When Missouri law enforcement and humane officials rescued the 12-year-old sheltie from a chronically problematic puppy mill, she was a heartbreaking contradiction: a dog who had spent most of her years producing litters, but who was barely hanging on to her own life.

The dog, who became known as CJ (short for Calamity Jane), bore all the symptoms of a puppy-mill breeding female: She not only had the blank expression and frail, bald body of a perpetually neglected animal, but also had untreated sarcoptic mange, ringworm, skin infections, dermatitis, ear infections, arthritis in her back legs (from years of close confinement), and early cataracts. What's more, she had lost many of her teeth, and those that remained were in immediate need of dentistry, due to poor care and nutrition.

CJ was one of 220 dogs at a commercial breeding facility in Howell County when the Humane Society of Missouri (HSMO), working with law enforcement officials, closed down the puppy mill in July 2001. Ultimately, HSMO was able to rescue and nurse back to health 165 of those dogs, but it wasn't easy.

Many of the dogs had severe medical problems that required a prolonged recuperation time before they could be placed in homes. Others with less serious problems were carefully matched with appropriate adoptive families within a matter of days, and the HSMO held a behavior seminar to help the dogs and their new families adapt to their lives together.

Then there was CJ and a few others—dogs so socially maladjusted that they had no interest in humans, which made it difficult to place them.

Just two months after her rescue, CJ looked dramatically better. Following countless hours of humane care and veterinary treatment, her coat grew back, her ear infections cleared, and her skin condition improved. But she was still disinterested in people, and her shyness kept people from adopting her.

That's when Linda Campbell, HSMO's director of programs, decided to foster CJ so that she could help the dog develop social skills. Campbell recalled seeing CJ at the puppy mill: "She was just existing—just there in body only. I remember helping her out of the carrier when we got her back here. She was almost completely bald and afraid of everyone, but I just fell in love with her. I played with her as much as I could, and I tried to make friends with her."

Within 24 hours of introducing CJ into her home in September 2001, Campbell realized that the dog was deaf, possibly as a result of untreated ear infections. She noted that there was some thickening of the ear tissue, a common sign of neglected infections. CJ's deafness helped explain much of her apparent disinterest, but it also meant that special training techniques would be needed.

The first thing Campbell did was help CJ relax when people touched her, no small feat for a dog who likely equated humans with cruelty. "We began by using a variety of massage techniques to help CJ learn to enjoy human touch," Campbell said. "We also groomed her with a soft-bristle brush. After the first months, CJ would often fall asleep during our sessions."

Campbell also used food to facilitate training: Treats were used as a lure to help CJ learn to walk on a leash, to approach people independently, to walk down the stairs, and to come to family members. With time, Campbell was able to switch to hand signals.

By December 2001, when CJ had adjusted to her new life and family, Campbell decided to formally adopt her. But even then, CJ still had much to learn about living in a family, but Campbell had secret weapons: her other three dogs, who helped train CJ by showing the former puppy-mill pooch how to interact with people.

CJ's confidence grew as more time passed. She followed Campbell around the house and yard, sometimes even initiating play. "She wasn't sure what to do with a ball because she never had a toy of any kind," Campbell explained, "and she still backs up and shies away if she is approached too fast because she was mishandled for so long."

The dog who initially recoiled at human touch came to enjoy being petted and brushed. CJ would even accompany Campbell to the obedience class that she teaches. "Little by little, she began to show signs of what her personality must have been like before the long years of confinement and social deprivation," Campbell said.

CJ's amazing recovery came to symbolize many things: the resilience of the canine spirit to overcome years of living in a filthy, desolate cage, bearing one litter after another; the hope that resides in even seemingly hopeless creatures to find love, trust, and happiness again; and the difference that humane, responsible care makes in an animal's health and well-being. CJ's before and after photos say more than a thousand testimonials.

In the end, however, CJ couldn't outrun her past, no matter how much care and affection she was shown. The lack of proper care early in her life was too much. The dog began suffering from uncontrollable seizures.

Heartbroken, Campbell and her husband, Marty, made the difficult decision to euthanize CJ. They decided they didn't want her to suffer in old age, like she did so much in her youth. They wanted her last days to be filled with the joy of their companionship, not the pain of her suffering.

"CJ's life wasn't as long as it surely would have been had she received proper care throughout her life," noted Stephanie Shain, director of outreach for The HSUS's Companion Animal section. "But she was lucky to finally know human kindness and devotion in her final years."

For most puppy mill females, though, there will be no such happy ending. Most communities have neither the resources to investigate puppy mills nor the space and staff to accommodate the large number of animals typically involved when a mass-commercial breeder is shut down. There are other options, however. The one promising way to end the suffering of dogs like CJ is to cut the flow of consumer dollars to those who sell dogs raised on puppy mills—namely retail pet stores, Internet sites and even people selling through newspaper ads.

As Campbell said, "Think about these animals and how they are treated, and decide that you're not going to support that."

If there's any solace to take from CJ's suffering and premature end, it is this: The operator of the puppy mill where CJ toiled for years will not be able to obtain another commercial breeding license from the state of Missouri, due to the numerous cruelty charges against her, as well as her subsequent probation violation. However, the Show Me State still has roughly 1,100 licensed dog breeders, many of which are no better than CJ's former mill.

There could be some hope on the horizon in Missouri, but only with continued community support. A state-wide audit inspired federal officials to focus more attention on enforcing Animal Welfare Act care standards. But inspections that result in puppy mill closures will also place sudden and unpredictable strains on area shelters, which must quickly accommodate as many as 200 animals at a time, says The HSUS's Shain. The medical, grooming, and behavioral needs can severely overtax a shelter, she adds, so community support of local shelters is crucial to the effort to help rescue and rehabilitate animals from puppy mills.