Vivisection Exposed - Bernie the Beagle's Story

Hello, my name is Bernie and I'm a beagle. This is the true story of why I was born...

I was born into a breeding unit one cold dark day in November along with eight other puppies. We were my mother's sixth litter in a short space of time and she was worn out already even though she was not yet two years old. It was here, hidden away in the English countryside, that I joined the numbers that would later make up a shipment bound for a research laboratory. The price on my head would be 350.

I was taken away from my Mummy when I was only a few weeks old and placed into a different unit. It was such a shock to be away from the warmth of her body, the only thing that had been a comfort in the dank, smelly room that we had begun life in. I cried for her and nuzzled desperately into my brothers and sisters to remind myself of her smell. The new unit I was in was nothing more than a huge windowless shed and there were hundreds of puppies in there with me.

The noise was unbelievable. All the puppies were crying for their mothers and it was cold and cramped and dirty. We only had a concrete floor to sleep on and there was no fresh air and nothing to look at. The food we were fed was a cheap substitute low grade feed which made many of the puppies sick. Nobody noticed when we got ill, in fact nobody noticed us at all. There were no toys, no cuddles, no walks... we were left alone day and night apart from a brief appearance by the kennel worker at feed times and when the floors were hosed down to remove all the urine and excrement we were forced to stand in.

I spent about four months imprisoned in this hell - I had never even been outside - and all I knew was the constant sound of barking and the feel of the other puppies' bodies as they huddled up to me trying to get warm through the cold winter months. Then one day in the spring some men came and a bunch of us were grabbed and herded into huge crates. I didn't know what was happening but all of a sudden I could feel the warmth of the sunshine on my fur, it was an amazing feeling. It was so bright outside and I felt scared but excited, after all anything was better than being in that awful shed! But then as soon as it had begun it was over and we were inside a dark truck on our way to who knows where...

I later realised that the place we were taken to was an animal testing laboratory. If I had thought the breeding unit had been hell then I was in for a shock now as the real nightmare began. It took hours to arrive but once we did we were dragged from the travelling crates and shoved into much smaller individual cages, all contained in a barren white-washed walled room. I could see the other puppies huddled alone behind the bars of their cages and I knew they were feeling the same confusion I was. I had never slept on my own before and I was very afraid that night. I desperately missed the feel of my friends' and siblings' bodies and the smell of this room made my heart pound with fear. People came in and out of the room over the next few days, dragging me from my cage and poking and prodding me roughly. Cold faced humans in starched white coats, sometimes marked with urine, feaces and blood. When I had first seen them I had hoped they might show us some kindness but they grabbed us by the scruffs of our necks and shouted and scared us. I could hear other kinds of animals too, they were not dogs like me - I'm not sure what they were - but their screams made me cower in my cage. What could be happening to cause such anguished cries?

Then the horrors got worse. I was taken to another room and held down. I knew something bad was going to happen and I struggled, feeling frightened. The technicians holding me were getting angry and they shouted more than usual, pulling my legs apart and hitting my face. It was terrifying. Then there was a needle being put into my leg and a coldness as something was injected.

The next few weeks were a blur of misery. Life became an endless cycle of pain and fear. I was constantly shivering and would vomit every few hours. I was so weak but still they came for me, over and over again, dragging me from my cage. The vision of those white coats approaching me haunted my every waking hour and was symbolic of pure evil in my mind. When it wasn't me being taken I had to watch the others suffering the same treatment... leaving the room and coming back after some vile procedure or another, performed without anaesthetic, sometimes their flesh cut open, raw and bloodied, and all for what? "Tests" I heard the humans talk of, "data" they said, but they seemed to care little for the results for I heard that huge amounts of it got thrown away in the trash and the rest was tampered with to make it say what they wanted it to. It appears this research data is about as worthless to science as our lives are to these monsters.

Eventually the day came when it would at last be all over. I was only 12 months old but so very ill by this time, weakened by diarrhoea and sickness, my spirit totally broken and my eyes blank with despair. I saw the white coats coming for me, for the final time, and I was too tired to even resist. I looked into the eyes of my executor, there was no compassion there... and I can't tell you what happened next...

I now realise that I was not an individual, my life was only ever going to be exploited... all I am is a victim of the vivisection industry.

For more information about the vivisection industry see Bernie's Myspace profile: