Boycott Petland/Harbor Pets

HSUS Undercover Investigation of just one of MANY investigations showing the poor practices and terrible quality of care these poor animals receive.

I know what you are thinking. Here comes the diatribe from an angry, mourning woman who had just lost her soulmate dog and wants to rail against PetLand/Harbor Pets.

Absolutely. But hear me out! Am I thankful that I just so happened to be in that horrible store at the right moment where Maggie was unfortunately being discarded like trash? Yes! I am forever grateful that I was there at that second to pipe up and volunteer to take this little bundle of fur and wrinkles home!

Petland/Harbor Pets gave me my soulmate. The light of my life. My best friend.

But I will FOREVER educate and inform people on the dangers and poor practices they utilize and how these poor puppies are products of backyard or amish breeders and are usually sick, have health problems (and usually chronic issues) all while Petland/Harbor Pets laughs all the way to the bank.

Take Maggie for example. She was from an amish breeder that Petland purchased her for $150.00 and they were going to turn around and sell her for $3999.99. Do not fret! Petland was so giving to those who cannot afford these sweet babies a credit card with “financing”! [Insert gagging noise here!]

You think to yourself that NO one in there right mind would purchase a puppy from a petstore where they have to finance (or spend thousands of dollars for that matter) but I can tell you that in my daily work at a local veterinary clinic I see these puppies CONSTANTLY. I also see the shock on their faces when their new expensive bundles of joy do not have valid vaccination records, have health issues (such as hernias, heart murmurs, cleft palates and more) or that the petland “warranty” is basically just a glorified piece of toilet paper.

This is an example of some of Petlands “glorified toilet paper”. Here is a copy of a “petland vaccine record” found on google. Note that the “vaccines” have no documentation of being administered by a veterinarian. They also do not list manufacturer, lot number or when they expire. You also do not know if these vaccines were handled properly or administered properly. Most veterinarian’s will not accept these records as they are not complete, not completed by a veterinarian and note that there was no physical examination completed by a licensed veterinarian so you have no idea what you are purchasing.

So how does Petland continue to get sales? In my honest opinion? They know how to play on the heartstrings of empathetic animal lovers that most likely have no idea what they are embarking on by purchasing one of these poor puppies. If you saw these sad, lonely puppies that live in groups with bars for walls and grates for grass wouldn’t it pluck at your heart strings?

  • Images shot as an undercover shopper show cages crowded with puppies at the Kennesaw, GA Petland store, 9-6-2018. The puppies spent all day in their cages and were not let out for regular exercise.

My best advice? DO NOT BUY FROM PETLAND/HARBOR PETS! Ever. Point. Period. I know what you are thinking (or going to say) “But…But…this is where you saved Maggie from!”

You are right! This is where I rescued Maggie from but I only rescued her because I did not pay their prices thus supporting the vicious cycle. Maggie was considered trash to them, garbage, unable to profit them in anyway so of zero use to them.

Those that say they “rescued” their pets when they bought them from these stores I am sorry and I know this is an unpopular opinion but you BOUGHT an animal from them. You supported them. These stores do not care if you think you “saved them” or “rescued them” in fact they do not care what you do with these babies just as soon as your payment clears.

A former employee at Petland in Boardman summed up their thoughts on these animals with one melancholy statement, “A man came in and was looking at one of our rottie puppies. He was allowed to interact with her in one of the “rooms” where he suddenly began to hit her. I ran over and interrupted the abuse and was met with our manager who informed the man that he did not care what he did with the dog ONCE he bought it but until then the dog was Petland property and he was NOT allowed to behave that way…”

Petland did not care that this man was clearly a psychopath and hitting this dog, they did not care that the man was going to continue this cycle of abuse once he brought the dog home, Petland only cared that he purchased the dog first before “damaging” the goods.

Maggie Mae was the absolute light of my life and my saving grace in so many ways but it was no secret that I referenced to her as my adorable but very real “mutant” — she had bladder cancer, kidney stones, kidney failure (that had been years in the making), she came to me with an inguinal hernia, her dental disease was atrocious. She was every sense of the term a mutant but she was all mine. She was MY mutant and my best friend and I had an idea of what I was getting into by taking her home (and luckily I work at a veterinary clinic that helps take the “sting” out of almost bi-weekly veterinary visits, medications, diagnostics etc.,) but most families are overwhelmed once they fell in love with these tiny sweeties and take them to their vet’s only to find out they have a health condition or need a surgical procedure that choke you with dollar signs and not only that but takes a major emotional toll on you as well.

Personally I do not support breeders at all. I do not . That is strictly MY opinion but I tell families if they MUST buy from a breeder to PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do your homework. Research the breeder, their practices, their policies, their veterinary care in DETAIL. Be almost intrusive and invasive. Ask to see where the puppies live, ask to see their mothers and their living spaces. Do not be suckered in by cute photos of puppies only to find you have been hoodwinked and out hundreds if not thousands of dollars. Ask your veterinarian if they have breeder recommendations (they may be able to help you).

The best way to defeat these horrible places is to NEVER support them. Do not purchase anything from them. Do not allow yourself to be sucked into their stores and pressured into applying for their credit card for a puppy. Do not let them tug on your heartstrings because you are only fueling the cycle again and again. These stores know what they are doing. They do not care HOW they get a sale they just want a sale.

Write to your local state government. Stage a peaceful protest at these locations. Create a petition. Report them to the Better Business. Use your voice to be the voice of these poor puppies but also for their “moms” who are left back at the backyard breeders who are living in horrible, deplorable conditions and continued to be bred and bred past the point of exhaustion. Fight the “good fight” and help shut these businesses down!

In honor of my sweet angel, Maggie Mae 09/13/2006-01/25/2021

Category: Awareness, Maggie Mae | 2 Comments on Boycott Petland/Harbor Pets

The Emotional Roller Coaster of NYE

NYE – a time for people to come together and reflect on the past year while making resolutions for the fresh new year ahead but sometimes it can be emotionally exhausting for some (especially those overly empathetic or sensitive like I am!).

Needless to say the last few months have been a surreal experience – Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s… where this year the memories will be different, despite my best efforts to remain inside the comfort of habit of the holidays come and gone I am forced to accept change and must endure the vacuum inside my heart … suffering in waves the sorrow and loss of my heart and soul – Maggie Mae.

I did know know what a “heart pet” was until I started working in the veterinary field — for those of you not familiar with the term a “heart pet” is something of a “soul mate” (but for four legs not two!) and simply a term that has coined an animal that has left such a profound effect on your life in ways you never thought imaginable.

Now, I get e-mails all of the time, “but Suzi what about the rest of the land of adorable misfits at your house?”

I love every single one of my “adorable misfits” and they enrich my life and fill my heart with love that overflows but they aren’t Maggie.

Maggie who was there when I turned 18 years old – so confident that since I was officially an “adult” (insert giggles here) and knew everything there was to know about “adulting” (again insert giggles here).

Maggie who was there when I moved into my first house – who we huddled together on the nights the old furnace didn’t keep us completely warm, or the summer days that were too hot but despite that Maggie always needed to be touching me (or on those real hot days “peel” was a more correct term).

Maggie who was there when I turned 21. Who was there when I experienced my first major break-up, Maggie who gave us the strength to uproot and leave a toxic, abusive relationship.

Maggie who was there when I got married. Who was there when I turned 30.

For every photo with Santa (and the Easter bunny!), for every halloween costume, every St. Patrick’s day we dyed her green (non-toxic of course!), for every Christmas that we carefully laid her stocking out to be filled with gifts and snacks or every New Years Eve that Maggie was the first kiss of the New Year.

You get comfortable — they are there for all of the milestones and in your mind and heart you convince yourself they will always be there.

Until one day they are not.

And then you feel like you are lost and standing in the middle of an open field and it is just a whirlwind of emotions.

And for every storm there comes a rainbow! For as much as I was mourn and miss my holiday traditions with Maggie Mae … I am starting brand new traditions with Maxwell.

Happy New Year Friends! Just like all of you I am sure that 2021 was full of highs and lows, dips, stomach dropping adventures — but we made it! Here is to hoping we all have a happy, healthy & prosperous new year!

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Happy Heavenly Birthday Maggie Mae

They say that no one is safe from death. We are all moving towards the same outcome in the end though there are people, pets, memories….that we wish and pray we could save from the embrace of death. I continue to remind myself that though the grief is sometimes too much to bear I wear my sadness like a badge of courage, an honor to have such an unfathomable grief — because that meant that I loved something with such passion and gusto and now that Maggie has passed there is no where for that love to go and it manifests in such agonizing grief.

I would not trade any of this for anything in the universe. All of the memories, the good, the bad, the downright ugly — I replay them in my mind as if they were home movies in a nostalgic attempt to bring me back to those glorious times.

As I reflect on Maggie Mae’s “first” birthday in Heaven today I reminisce about her very first birthday here on earth! A baby faced 18 year old (convinced that I knew everything about being “grown up” — now that I am in my 30’s I can see how very VERY wrong I was — don’t tell my parents they were actually right about this!) working a crap minimum wage job and in college rocking the title of “poor college student”. Did I have any right having a dog? Absolutely not! Not for any other reason other then I was 18 years old! I knew nothing about responsibilities, the decisions I would have to make (or do) surrounding this little curly tailed ball of fur or when something would effect ME that it meant it also effected Maggie Mae. For the very first time in my immature young adult life I had someone else to think about, to worry about, to put before my own wants & needs.

I suppose as I reflect on Maggie Mae’s birthday, her life, ALL of the things that SHE accomplished in her life (and let me tell you, she accomplished quite a bit! What other pug can say they rode around in style on a custom made 1975 trike with there mom and grandpy? Or could go swimming whenever they wanted with mom and grammy because (my) grandparents have a swimming pool? Or all of the parades, the events, the PLACES that she went — I can say with all sincerity that no other dog can say they had the amazing, full life that Maggie Mae had) and it fills my heart with such bittersweet love that I can close my eyes and for a split second I SWEAR that I feel her brush against me, her black velvet ears, her little oinks she would make that almost expressed her inner thoughts to me, or her clawing/pawing at my arm when I was not giving her the amount of attention that Maggie felt SHE required (and let me tell you that Maggie Mae got ALL of the attention and then some! She sometimes had a “flare for the theatrics” and play the part of the “sad neglected pug” anytime I had to do chores or schoolwork — she was funny like that!).

I suppose that Maggie Mae played a MAJOR role in how my life began to shape and turn out. Without Maggie Mae I doubt I would have had the courage to leave a mentally & physically abusive relationship, without Maggie Mae I don’t think I would have had the determination to finish college, go to vet tech school and continue to learn as much as I possibly could, without Maggie Mae I wouldn’t be the person at work when clients thank me for such tenderness & compassion because I remind them that “I would want someone to extend the same love and compassion to MY animals so I will ALWAYS extend that same courtesy to others…”. Maggie Mae kicked off my endeavor to have the “house of misfits” – full of love, funny memories and general shenanigans with her handicat brothers, her epileptic brother Roscoe and even the devil child that set up camp in our basement (Lucy, she’s a calico so we cannot hold her sauciness against her!) — Maggie Mae is my reason for EVERYTHING.

So, for as much as my heart will forever ache for the little smooshy face, oinky pug that changed my ENTIRE life…. the total opposite course my life was attempting to take — I will always be grateful for her and cherish her for ALL that she did for me — she saved my life. For this I am forever in her debt and will for the rest of my days always remember and honor what a special day today is (September 13) because that is the day that the universe brought Maggie Mae into the world — by Thanksgiving 2006 Maggie and I had crossed paths and the rest is history!

Happy Happy Heavenly Birthday my beautiful, funny, affectionate, courageous Maggie Mae. Mere words will never be able to express just how much I love you, miss you and will forever appreciate you. Thank you for showing me parts of myself that I did not even know I could conjure up (and for reminding me that I can be a mom to a rag tag group of hanidpets — I learned a great deal of patience from being Maggie’s mama!). I love you baby girl.

September 13, 2006- January 25, 2021 ; forever in my heart & soul.

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151 Days.

Maggie Mae

September 12, 2006- January 25, 2021

They say that grief is not linear. It does not follow a predetermined timeline and it is okay to allow yourself to feel the rise and fall of the waves as they come. If you would have told me that on June 25, 2021 I would have survived 151 entire days without my sweet Maggie Mae beside me I probably would have scoffed at the idea since there was no way I could manage without her here, that the very idea of losing her was just unfathomable and silly.

I can say I have (somehow) survived 151 days without Maggie Mae. It feels so strange to even say out loud. Its funny when you are a fresh faced, bright eyed 18 year old you think that life goes on forever and you really do feel invincible! I remember equally looking down at a brand new fresh face baby pug and felt we had a lifetime together and I would cherish every single minute together (call it 18 year old naivety because I definitely knew better! But I suppose that’s what happens when you fall in love — whether its a spouse, friend, pet… you envelope yourself in everything they are and seem to forget the ugly inevitable) and in a strange, melancholy kind of love (or grief) even the “goodbye” I cherished despite wishing, hoping and praying I did not have to.

The morning we said goodbye to our sweet matriarch to our little land of misfits. I just KNEW. I know that sounds silly but I knew. Despite my husband trying to keep the faith and maintain optimism (he is pretty good at always seeing the “other side” of things and tries to instill hope in me the typical “doom & gloom” type) I just knew Maggie was ready so just like her and I had done for so many mornings prior to that fateful day — so many milestones, so many tears, injuries, love, frustrations… Maggie and I curled up on the couch together just like any other day and I held her close to me drinking up every single detail I could of her — the velvet soft ears that by now were salt and pepper colored and could no longer hear me, I wiped her little boogers away (even the gross little details of her I cherished, love makes you do crazy things right?), and I pulled her closer to me letting her snores vibrate against my heart while tears dampened her little head.

The drive to the veterinarian was the shortest, longest drive I will ever remember (if that makes sense). It was 8:30am Monday. It wasn’t snowing but nippy outside. Maggie was wrapped up in a fleece blanket as I held her inside my leather jacket (just like I had done her entire life) as my husband tried to keep my mind busy by talking about the weather, friends, general conversation but nothing could take my mind from Maggie Mae, reflecting on all of the amazing, fun, crazy (and sometimes stupid!) things we did together, that she truly was my co-pilot — there was not a place that I went that she did not go with me, even motorcycle rides she came with me and slept soundly as the breeze spilled past her face and ears — I laughed about the times I painted her nails, put jewelry on her, the thousands and thousands of photographs and videos we have together, once I dyed her for St. Patrick’s Day — I chuckled as I thought of how patient Maggie was when having me as her mama and tolerating all of the cute, silly little things I would do to her or with her.

I played in my memories like a carousel all of the foster animals I had taken in over the years and Maggie Mae just took everything in stride — it was like she KNEW that regardless of the fosters I took in, or the handicats I would eventually foster fail — that she was always my #1 (and she was right). She patiently handled hundreds of foster kittens that would crawl all over her, bathe her, try to bite at her ears and feet (she never minded — if she was over it she definitely let them know!), she would sit up ever so quietly when I was bottle feeding newborn kittens, or mourning those fosters that lost their fights with illness or injuries — Maggie was always there by my side.

And in those nights of frustration and insomnia — when I would toss and turn cursing the moon and the stars– there was Maggie Mae always, the ever so patient “mama” always there, always keeping an eye on the situations unfolding around her.

My mind snapped back to the car door closing. After that I remember blurred little “blurbs” of that day — I remember holding Maggie and walking into my clinic sobbing. I didn’t care how I looked or how loud I was– I was losing my best friend and no amount of tears or wailing would rectify that. I remember standing in that room with her letting the fog and tears stain my glasses and cheeks while my husband held Maggie and I. I remember kissing Maggie’s face and reminding her how much I loved her and that she was absolutely the love of my life and that would never change, I told her I would spend the rest of my life mourning her and I sang her her favorite song — the pink panther theme song I used to hum to her as a baby getting her to nod off to sleep.

Maggie was tired though. I saw it on her face and in her warm brown eyes. She was tired. She had been fighting transitional cell carcinoma of the bladder for almost a year on top of kidney stones and elevated bloodwork levels, she was tired of the menagerie of medications everyday, the subQ fluids, the injections, the transdermal medications, she was tired of trying to resist getting her pills in the morning. For as much as it physically and mentally pained me to do it I knew that I had to let her go, she was tired and there was no amount of things I could do to fix that but to let her rest until I saw her again.

And for a brief moment — almost so quick if I blinked I would miss it — I was 18 again with a brand new, fresh little pug who had managed to absolutely take over my life and had me better trained (as much as I wanted to admit it was the other way around it was not!) was looking back at me with her head cocked in a quizzical look. I knew that when it came to Maggie Mae I made the best choice — when I adopted her (when I had no right owning a dog! But you know, at 18 you know everything there is to know about the world and want so badly to be an “adult” again call it dumb teenage naivety), when I picked her over boyfriends, when I protected her against the evils of the world, when I was hungry but I made sure she always ate first, when we were cold and I always ensured she was snuggly and warm first, that for as much as I reached out to Maggie for comfort and solace that she had always relied on me for those things.

I will forever wish I had more time with Maggie Mae (that goes without saying! Whether it was 15 years or 100 I will ALWAYS wish I had more time with her) and I would trade everything for her time and time again.

Today I still cannot believe I have made it 151 days. It feels like an eternity but in the same breath feels like yesterday. Everyday I am thankful that I was able to spend my formidable years, so many important milestones … with my co-pilot by my side.

Maggie Mae is why I took Maxwell and very much believe that he and I crossed paths for a very important reason — we needed each other. Maxwell needed someone to love him and be patient with him, to love him despite his “flaws” and not give up on him — and I needed him to help soothe my grief stricken soul that manifested itself almost in a physical pain. I would like to think as Maggie was exiting this lifetime and Maxwell was entering it that they crossed paths and Maggie gave Maxwell instructions to push all of my buttons, to be cute but be ornery also (Maxwell was born on the day Maggie Mae passed away) and most importantly have a sign forever imprinted on him — Maxwell has a black “birthmark” on his chest — it is the only black mark on him and it is in the shape of an “M” right over his heart — right where I have Maggie’s name and picture tattooed on me — over my heart. I believe the universe played matchmaker between my sorrow and a spoiled, rotten, adorable, “broken” little pug that someone was trying to toss away like trash — just like the petstore had tried doing with Maggie.

Maxwell Seamus

(Maxwell James)

People will forever ask why I take the “broken”, the “dejected”, those animals that need just a little extra patience and empathy — I will always ask them “why not” take them? If I had not taken a chance on something beautiful that someone was trying to simply toss away I would have never been blessed with Maggie and had my life changed forever for the better. Even before Bifford, before Bart (“handicats”) there was Maggie — paving the way for my specially-abled pet journey and just another way that Maggie Mae influenced my life and continues to influence my life.

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Dear Maggie,

Saturday. 02/27/2021 10:46am

It’s a grey, dreary, rainy, bleak day. The fluorescent lights of the local laundromat sit harsh and heavy on my hazel eyes as I watch the dryer tumble my bedspread over & over, I became entranced by the light hum the dryer was making and the monotony of its assignment at hand.

And for a moment I feel “normal” again, whole if you will but in the blink of an eye that moments gone and passed and my mind brutally taunts me…that for the first time in 14 years I am all alone, you are gone and now I am trying to remember my life before you blessed it, how I functioned, how I made it through my days but honestly — I can’t.

As much as I sift and comb through the complexities and anxieties of my mind, I cannot even pretend to remember a time before you because honestly that time never mattered.

Fourteen years seems like such a long time until you’re living without your “shadow” , your best friend, — your soul mate… then it starts to feel like a tiny drop in the ocean if you blink you miss it. And it’s true fourteen years was not at all long enough and here I am craving and yearning for more seconds, more minutes — as if trying to barter with the cruel universe that stole you from my life.

They say losing your “heart” pet changes you and that you are not the same after that. You convince yourself that won’t be you, but it will be. This is a pain that everyone takes on when they fall in love with their “soul” pet that amplifies every minute you further fall in love with them by the time you are at that horrible fateful goodbye the pain is so ungodly unfathomable it teeters on physical pain.

I teeter in and out of denial that you are actually gone and are resting comfortably among the stars (I would say quietly also but given your sweet, adorable, lumberjack snores I retract the “quiet” statement!) because some days my mind plays tricks on me – eagerly anticipating you to come bouncing from around the doorway with your ears flopping up and down like tiny velvet pig-tails and your little curly tail tightly curled resting on top of you like a bun.

Maggie Mae there will never be enough words, enough ways to explain or describe how much I miss you. WE miss you. The house feels like a vacuum with you absent from it, a repair not easily fixed. I miss you sorely but know that as long as I continue to talk about you, educate & advocate AGAINST horrible places and practices of “businesses” such as “harbor pets”, “petLand” and the “backyard breeders” they do business with…then I know you are never too far from my heart and soul. Love you my sweet girl.

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