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Animal Rights and My Right Against It

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Let me set the mood. It's the earliest hours of the morning, long before the sun begins to contemplate rising. Darkness tells your internal clock that it's far too early for this, but something is driving you to throw back those warm covers and shiver your way through a quick morning routine. What is that? It's the love and passion that drive us dog fanciers through insane rituals that have been taking place for a hundred or more years. We spend almost all the money we have and even some we don't have to make our way across the country in vans and trucks loaded with grooming supplies, food, water, kennels and of course...dogs. It's all in the name of sport, but it's something we take pride in. It's one of those things in life that few can appreciate, but the ones who love it completely understand.

The art of breeding, raising and showing dogs is in danger, and I am using the only tool I have to make an impact. My voice. Animal rights activists are using every angle and every tactic they can to make sure that the sport we so dearly love is eliminated completely, and through scare-tactic campaigns and sad TV commericals, they are quickly turning the people of America into misinformed citizens who don't have a clue.

The animal rights activists make us dog breeders out to be the demons that are the source of nightmares. According to them, we exploit and gentically modify dogs to be the machines we desire as humans, making them into the perfect specimen for the pure sake of stroking our own egos. Is all that true? Absolutely. If working as hard as I possibly can to breed the best possible dog and selling puppies to try and make back some of my hard-spent cash is exploitation, then call me guilty. If generations of strict breeding regimens and countless nights spent getting zero sleep in hopes of creating the best possible dog I can is genetic modification, then yes. Dog breeders do their utmost to produce the most oustanding model of their breed possible, and through studying of pedigrees and removing any lines that do not meet standards of perfection, we come pretty darn close to eliminating things like hip dysplasia and eye defects. I know, I know, producing healthy and happy dogs is a wretched thing to do. But I won't appologize.

Dog breeders are made to hang their heads in shame for what we do. But I am sick and tired of it. Take a trip to a local dog show once, and you will see a collection of hard working and far-from-rich folk. Ever notice that those animal rights hotshots seem to be rolling in style? Pulling up in their Audi's, sitting in plush offices wearing fine suits. Take a look at what the dog breeders are wearing, or driving. I'll guarantee that the dogs recieve more medical attention than their human caretakers.

So I am here to say that as a dog lover, fancier and handler, I will not go away. I will not appologies to PETA, or the HSUS for loving animals and enjoying the bond I have with them. They can keep their cars, their clothes and their fancy houses. They can keep their lives without animals. Because to me, that's not a life at all. They will never know the joy of waking up to your best friend smiling no matter how rough you look. And that in itself means that we have already begun to win the war.

I will fight until I win, and if that means standing on the rooftops and shouting my cause, then keep your eyes peeled for me. Because I'll be there.




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