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“We’re with a security and private investigation firm. Recently, we’ve been looking into a couple of men who are selling puppies that we believe are bred in a puppy mill or stolen. All of the dogs have fleas, bacteria, some have damaged paws or legs, others have open wounds.”
“That’s horrible!” said Julian. “I can assure you our dogs are treated better than most people treat their children. They are our children.”
“We can see that,” said Pork. “We don’t think the men selling the dogs are the ones actually getting the puppies. They could be stolen, or they’re just using females to breed new litters non-stop. Is there anyone, any reason you could think of someone would do this.”
“Money,” said the duo in unison. They laughed, hugging one another, and Pork couldn’t help but smile with them. Love is love. It didn’t matter who you found it with. It’s a wonderful thing and should be held tightly.
“Money is the only thing,” said Sasha. “Well, money and cruelty. I’m sure you gentlemen are aware that some folks are mean just to be mean. But cruelty to children and animals? I’ll never understand that.”
“We’re in the same boat,” said Baptiste. “Yesterday, our team discovered that they had drowned eleven crates of puppies. All were sick and probably dying anyway, but nevertheless.”
“Horrible,” frowned Julian. “You’re welcome to look around if you’re concerned about what we’re doing.”
“Not at all. It’s clear that you’re running a beautiful facility here,” said Baptiste. “My niece and her husband run the animal sanctuary down near Lafitte.”
“Oh, we’ve heard of the wonderful things they’re doing! Didn’t they save a few elephants not long ago?”
“Yes,” laughed Otto. “Lucy has a heart the size of Texas and can’t seem to turn animals away. Neither can Baptiste’s mother.”
“My kind of people,” smiled Sasha. “I wish we could be of more help, but we breed our own dogs here. All of them are former champions, and we make sure their bloodline is pure. We do get the occasional person who pays for one of the puppies, but these dogs are worth thousands of dollars.”
“Thousands? How much does first place in a dog show pay? I might want to change my profession,” said Pork.
“Are you ready?” smiled Julian. “Nothing. Zero.”
“What?”
“Zero dollars, my friend,” he grinned. “Westminster, the biggest show in the country, gives a five-thousand-dollar donation to a kennel or facility of your choice. The rest is just bragging rights.”
“How can you afford to do this? It must cost a fortune,” said Otto. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”
“No, it’s fine. We get asked that a lot. I develop software programs right here on the property and sell them to tech companies around the world. Sasha is an artist specializing in animals. He works on commission. Both of our families were comfortable and raised dogs and horses to show.”
“That makes sense,” nodded Baptiste. “Gentlemen, you’ve been very kind. Thank you for being so open.”
“Sorry, we couldn’t be of more help. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to do this with dogs, but we know that it happens. There’s no way that it’s someone who loves animals. It kills me just to have to give the dogs their medicines or shots. I wish I could tell you where to look, but I can’t fathom this type of behavior,” said Julian.
“Neither can we, which is why we’re doing this,” said Pork. “We appreciate your help.”
“You know, this probably isn’t any help, but a while back, there was a van with the animal control logo on it driving around out here. We were concerned that they might be looking for a predator, one that could harm our dogs.
“When Julian stopped the van to question the two men, the van smelled horrible, and the men weren’t much better. I remember him saying he was appalled that the parish would let their equipment get so bad.”
“Did you get a name? License plate number?” asked Baptiste.
“No, I’m sorry. I did call animal control to give them my opinion about their van.”
“What did they say?” asked Otto.
“They said they don’t use vans. They use trucks.”
Antoine, Sven, and George walked into the animal control facility near Chalmette. Famous for her Civil War battlefields, still marked by cannon fire, it was a small, quiet community. The facility seemed well-maintained, clean, and well-staffed.
“Good mornin’,” said the woman at the desk. “Can we interest you in adoption today?”
“Not today,” laughed Sven. “We’d like to speak to someone about a possible puppy mill that’s happening in the area.”
“Oh, lord. When are folks gonna stop bein’ so cruel,” said the woman, shaking her head.
