Susie-Belle got me started, I'm still going but wish I wasn't.

I started writing in 2011 about the endemic problems in the puppy trade when Susie-Belle came into my life. I'm still at it but wish it wasn't needed.

Susie-Belle, the first miniature schnauzer I was to adopt, was a mature eight years old when I first met her and her body showed every one of those years. We met at the rescue centre and as she stiffly trotted across the grass towards me, I saw dark leathery skin showing through thin, patchy fur on her back. It wasn’t just her fur that was thin, her ribcage and hip bones stood out. I had never seen such a skinny schnauzer. I was told she had gained weight in the weeks since she had arrived at the rescue. I felt sick at the thought of how much she must have suffered but I tried to remain composed. I had Renae with me who was at the time not yet 6 months old, a lively, happy, healthy young dog who had known nothing but kindness, love and safety. We had bought her from a home breeder at 8 weeks old, a short while after we’d lost our beloved dog Jasmine, our first miniature schnauzer.

Where Renae’s nose was covered in healthy thick fur, Susie-Belle’s was bald. Her nipples hung large and low, lower still as her spine bowed from eight years of repeatedly bearing puppies. She was a dog unlike any I had ever met and she had a tough story.

Susie-Belle had lived her entire life in a shed, or large barn, precise details were never available to me, but over the years I have come to understand it was likely a disused agricultural building. I was told she’d been tied by rope around her neck but for how long she had been restrained in this way was anyone’s guess. As well as emaciation, her rescue had treated her for a prolapsed womb, multiple infections, a serious flea infestation, and she was almost blinded by cataracts and severe dry-eye.

Susie-Belle had come from the commercial puppy breeding world, often referred to as puppy farming.

This can be a misleading term in today’s landscape where low welfare breeding occurs in all types of locations, not only rural ones as once was more typical. The term ‘puppy farm’ it can be argued, is a valid description of anywhere that breeds puppies on an intensive basis, putting profits over welfare. An environment, or facility where the primary aim is making money to the detriment of the dogs’ health, whether that is their physical or psychological health. It might be an actual farm, or just as likely in today’s puppy industry, a suburban house. Or a shed in a small garden or many sheds on an industrial estate crammed with cages full of dogs are all places where puppies start their lives and their parents remain unseen, unknown and uncared for. For the dogs, their suffering is the same in whatever environment they exist when they are confined in conditions that most would regard at best, as inadequate, at worst, inhumane.

Before Susie-Belle, there was Renae and before her, Jasmine was the canine love of my life. It was the mid 90s when we bought her as a puppy and there wasn’t a lot of information around about puppy farming. The internet barely existed, let alone Google or Facebook or any other easy source of absolutely everything we need to know about everything and nothing that we’ve come to rely on today. However, as I wrote in Saving Susie-Belle, I wasn’t totally ignorant,

I know in all honesty that I never gave puppy farming a tremendous amount of attention. Like many people, once we had decided getting a dog was a good idea, we did a sketchy bit of research and went to a breeder within easy reach. Choosing Jasmine was as easy as going to the first breeder I found. I vaguely knew that a puppy should be seen with its mother and be interacting normally. We arrived at the breeder one hot August afternoon, driving into a large yard with a row of wooden sheds running along the perimeter fence. As soon as we got out of the car, the breeder came from the house and we explained we were there to buy a schnauzer. Simple as that, no searching questions from me…nor were there any questions from the breeder to ask me what sort of life I was going to provide for the puppy. It was as easy a transaction as buying a bag of sugar. How things would change for me a few years down the line when the full reality of what I was supporting that hot afternoon hit home.

The breeder confirmed she had puppies available and without much further ado went into one of the sheds and brought out a couple of puppies. It was a done deal as soon as the breeder placed the tiny ball of grey fluffy life into my hands. I vividly remember holding Jasmine for the first time. I was smitten. I just about managed to ask where Jasmine’s mother was. ‘Busy in the house with her pups’ was an answer I remember. It was only later I realised that Jasmine had not been brought from the house, but had appeared from one of the sheds. There were several adult schnauzers running freely and seemingly happy in the yard; they were friendly and looked well cared for. They were probably the breeding dogs, or unsold puppies awaiting the start of their breeding lives.

In recent years the scale of puppy breeding has exploded. Money is made easily when the sale of puppies is the priority and the health of the dogs is not even considered, let alone a lesser priority. A look at news reports covering the few prosecutions which succeed shows the level of income involved in the puppy trade. In the illegal trade there are few deterrents when scaled against the massive financial rewards sat there for the taking.

In the kinds of places where dogs are commodities and given the bare minimum to keep them alive and productive, their suffering stays invisible to the world and the buyers of their puppies. But their puppies are not invisible.

They are in living rooms and bedrooms and kitchens and parks and forests, on beaches, on walks, on social media, their puppies are everywhere and nowhere. Few ever say they bought a puppy farmed puppy, or one from a less than great breeder, or that they don’t really know the origins of their puppy. But with a recent report from Naturewatch Foundation indicating that an estimated 80% of puppies in the UK come from unknown sources, there’s a very good chance that the puppy in the park you meet, or the one on Instagram you follow for their cute antics, left behind a parent whose life is, or was, at the very least, miserable and probably one full of abject cruelty and neglect.

Some puppy buyers may genuinely not realise what they are supporting with their purchase. The industry is deceptive and efficient at covering up its worst cruelties. But others will suspect, or know for sure, that they bought their puppy from parents condemned never to see the light of day, nor feel a human touch of kindness. Or simply to live as a regular member of a family not expected to earn their place by producing puppies. But they push away any pricks of conscience as what they really want, and feel perfectly entitled to have, is the puppy. Few, when they post photos of their puppy on social media will say they left behind a worn out, abused mother like Susie-Belle. Or even, a parent dog who is not abused, but whose life is restricted to breeding the puppies that make the money that make the breeder happy that makes them blind to the needs of the dogs they confine.

In my darker moments I am haunted by thoughts of Jasmine’s mother and father. Most who share their homes with puppies bought quickly, thoughtlessly and badly, never want to see the faces of the parent dogs who are forced to sustain today’s rampant puppy breeding business. But they exist. Thousands of them exist to supply the trade. A trade which is booming, despite the economic challenges the country faces, the cost of living crisis, the rise in veterinary charges. Little seems to be impacting the breeding of popular breeds of dog.

Recently a friend, while taking her adopted, elderly ex-breeding dog for her annual eye-check was told by the ophthalmologist that she sees two or three litters of miniature schnauzers a week.

A week! That’s one ophthalmologist, in one referral centre, seeing dogs of one breed, from what we must assume are breeders operating in the more repsonsible end of the breeding world as they’re at least taking the puppies for their checks. It boggles my mind to think how many of this single breed - let alone all the other dogs - are being bred every year to satisfy the demands of puppy buyers. And how much money is being made from their sale. While at the same time, the UK’s rescue sector is faced with overwhelming numbers of dogs needing help.

Adopting Susie-Belle in 2011 changed my life. I began writing about her before I had even officially adopted her. She startled me into taking responsibility for my past actions when I bought Jasmine from a place which was undoubtedly all about making money from breeding, dealing and selling puppies. I put this in the first book I wrote about Susie-Belle as I wanted to be honest from the outset that I had made a mistake as a novice puppy buyer. A big mistake.

As I have come to understand the full horrors endemic in the commercial dog breeding world, I have wrestled a lot with my conscience. Whilst I felt uncomfortable, I still pushed aside concerns, as I had fallen instantly in love with my chosen puppy. I cannot change what was done, all I can do is hope that by sharing what I know, others may not repeat my mistake.

Since writing that, a few more books and many articles and establishing a charity in Susie-Belle’s memory, I feel even more strongly that I have a responsibility to help others not support an industry which is out of control and a complete catastrophe for the dogs. One day I hope not to have to write about this. I dream of the day all this is confined to history. And I can just write about flowers and France and happy healthy dogs and all things nice.