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Why on earth was the amazing Baby Bear injected and killed?

I'm writing in honor of Baby Bear, a small, terrified dog I met on death row – a dog pound death row.

In this part 2 of our welcome series, I explain why I started this new group (after I worked as the Chairman of PETA for 20 years, before I left in the year 2000).

The reason: I met a dog named Baby Bear, while I was volunteering in a dog pound, in poverty-stricken Mexico.

I've been to Mexico before, and the thing I hated was seeing starving dogs. Everywhere.

So, I went to the local dog pound … it held up to 700 strays at a time.

stray dog, dogs, rescue dog

They were also killing at least 50 or more -- every day -- to make room for the 50 or more new ones who came in every day.

They also told me that Mexico has about 20 million strays and the few who end up in dog pounds are "the lucky ones -- at least they don't starve to death."


The first day, I called home to discuss bringing back some of the dogs with me, and everyone said:


"Are you crazy? We already have thousands right here -- and every single one of them also needs a home. If you fly any of them to Florida, they will only prevent other poor dogs who are already here, from getting rescued -- not to mention from the rest of the country."

stray dog, dogs, rescue dog

My thinking turned to the immediate problem at hand.


"Do whatever I can, to ease the suffering of the 50 who are going to die today.

The situation is out of control.


The least I can do is reduce their misery -- even if only a bit -- during their last minutes on earth."

I then saw the dogs being killed, one at a time. One worker held the dogs down, while another injected them with a needle -- and less than 5 seconds later, the dogs were no more.


The dogs desperately struggled against being held and injected. Those who fought to escape were muzzled, only worsening their pain. 


Worse yet, some of the workers didn't care. They didn't care about the suffering, and they were borderline abusive. 


So, right or wrong, I made the immediate, unplanned decision to offer to hold the dogs myself.

stray dog, dogs, rescue dog

At least this way, for their last seconds on earth, they would be in my arms -- a stranger who at least cared -- instead of the arms of a stranger who didn't give a damn. 

If I can't stop the killing -- I can, at the very least, do this one tiny thing.

Right or wrong, I had to. Either way, the whole thing was, and is, horrible.


After a while, they also had me go and get the dogs out of the cages and bring them to the killing room. 

This is when I found Baby Bear, shaking violently in fear, cowering in the back of a dirty cage.

He was covered with the dreaded skin disease mange.

Worse yet, he was half-starved. Skin and bones. Heartbreaking. 

Baby Bear was gentle and weak, as I lifted him. Yet, somehow he remained strong in spirit.

I hugged him and held him close, trying to console him as he was trembling.

Here I was, loving him, and at the same time knowing I'd soon participate in his death. 

After a bit, Baby Bear started to open up and he began licking my face, but he suddenly stopped when he felt the sting of a needle going into his vein.

The lethal "sky-blue sodium pent" drug was on its way to his heart, to end his life.

With the needle in his vein, he looked me right in the eye.

And his face spoke to me, asking …

Why? Why are you doing this to me? I thought you were my friend … my only friend.

In that very instant, he collapsed.

His face fell heavy into my hand, and his soul was gone. 

I began to cry … and I tried to hide it … and then I just broke down. 

There I was, a grown man, crying … over the loss of a small helpless dog I barely knew.


The sight of dead bodies piled up. Others, littering the floor … like garbage.

The smell of excrement.

Bodies decomposing.

The cries and whimpering of other puppies, on their way to die. 

To this day I'm ashamed.

To my dying day I'll regret not saving him, despite the plight of the thousands of others here at home.

Despite the 50 who were going to be killed the next day, and every day. 

If I could, I would save them all -- who wouldn't? 

And the other 20 million strays in Mexico? 

How on earth am I ever going to save them?

It crushed me.

stray dog, dogs, rescue dog

As I slowly regained my composure, it sunk in – his suffering, loneliness and early death was 100% preventableBaby Bear was just one victim in a sickening, never-ending cycle of suffering.

I became so angry -- angry at myself.


Angry at the whole situation -- so angry that I swore to find a way to bring this needless insanity to an end. 

I swore I was going to find a way to end this cycle of suffering.

I swore to Baby Bear:

No more temporary fixes. No more "band-aid solutions."

This overpopulation problem has been going on for far too long. 

I have to find a permanent end to this sickness.

cat, feral cat

This is why I founded 600MillionDogs


Dedicated to ending the # 1 cause of suffering for dogs and cats: overpopulation,  by developing a one-dose, permanent-lasting 'super' birth control cookie -- that will in effect spay or neuter, without surgery.


A cookie that can end their cycle of suffering. 


We're a small grassroots group, doing the work that drug companies should be doing -- but they refuse to help. 

We receive no help from the government and no help from corporations … which is why a gift of any amount will help.

Please join me on this mission -- together we will end a huge amount of suffering.

For those of us with little money to spare but who still want to help, we have a $1 a month feature … because each of us can start helping animals for just $1 a month.

Thank you for helping us end the suffering.


P.S. Clearly this is scientific life-saving work that drug companies should be doing -- but to their disgrace, they refuse.  


Thus, it falls to us, 600MillionDogs -- a small $280,000 a year grassroots charity which receives no support from the government, and no support from corporations. Again, thank you for stopping the suffering before it begins.


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