My baby was left dumped by a road

English bulldog holtz was stolen aged 18 months as she played in the garden of her home in Waltham Cross, hertfordshire, in June 2011. Pawnbroker Ruth Kirby, 34, searched tirelessly for her and always held onto the belief she would find her one day. OUR home, in a leafy, quiet part of Hertfordshire, was perfect for dogs. Holtz and my other dog, a Jack Russell called Scamp, could play in the garden, which was surrounded by a six-foot wall, whenever they wanted.

One morning I came downstairs and Holtz wasn’t there. I thought she had gone out into the garden using her dog flap, but it slowly dawned on me she was gone. It was just the worst feeling.

I phoned the police, I made posters, I put adverts in magazines and the local newspaper and I used social media to help find her. I would spend hours combing websites such as Gumtree, looking for anyone selling a dog like her. Sometimes I would receive messages about possible sightings, but it always came to nothing.

I loved her so much. I’d had her since she was a puppy. She was like a child to me.

Worse still, she hadn’t been spayed so she could be bred from, and with bulldog pups selling for £2,500, I knew this would be her fate.

The thought of her being cruelly treated was so upsetting. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I just wanted my baby back. Seven years passed, and Holtz was always at the back of my mind. When I received a call from a vet in Norfolk one day asking if I’d lost a dog, my immediate thought was that Scamp had gone missing — and I checked on him in his bed.

I didn’t think for a moment they meant Holtz. But it was! Her microchip identified her. I couldn’t believe it.

I drove the 100 miles to Norfolk immediately. Holtz had been dumped by the side of a busy road, along with an elderly Chihuahua who sadly wasn’t chipped, and had been miraculously found by a veterinary nurse on her way to work.

Poor Holtz had been through a terrible ordeal. She had been puppy farmed within an inch of her life. She had a huge tumour, severe mastitis, and her nails were so long she couldn’t stand.

She had spent seven years of her life in a pen, never loved or exercised. It was just heartbreaking — all to make money, and judging by the state of her, she had made them a lot.

Yet as she sniffed me, I saw her tail twitch as the happy memories came back.

As I now had a young family, I had a difficult decision to make. Poor Holtz needed a quiet life, so I arranged for her to live with my sister, Joanie.

I still see her regularly and my sister adores her. She sleeps a lot but is doing OK. At least she is living now and not just existing.