I CHOSE THE RESCUE LIFE

I CHOSE THE RESCUE LIFE

I CHOSE THE RESCUE LIFE

I chose the rescue life. And here I am, shit on my shirt, standing outside of the vet clinic in my mask in 90° weather as they tell me there’s a faint positive indicating this little fox-eared puppy has parvo. I spent the last two weeks giving oral and subcutaneous medication three times a day and forcing gruel down the throats of ten tiny puppies by syringe. Four of the ten made it and for that I was rejoicing. We had saved four lives! Five, if you include the sweet mama dog. And now, I was going to have to start all over
again. When do you know it’s time to throw up your hands? When do you decide that the price is too high? That your psychological health is greater than how many lives you could save? Like many people, my life is
complicated right now. I have twins that will be one this weekend. They have been going on rescue missions their entire 12 months. There are times I think they think they are dogs. My dream is, and always has been to have a happy little rescue where we save animals. We have saved over 300 so far! But I’m here covered in parvo poo feeling discouraged and helpless. In a world where I can’t keep a supply of bleach or disinfectant wipes I am trying my best.
 
Up until now, my small daycare and boarding business supported the rescue. The rescue dogs (and sometimes cats, rabbits, guinea pigs…) have slowly taken over the boarding facility while we raise money to build the shelter in the barn next door. We have been so lucky to have our community donate the food so we don’t have to worry about that. Each adoption fee helps to fund the next dog getting fixed and vaccinated. We also had a couple “Legacy” donations of $5000 which keeps a tiny cushion in the bank
for when things happen. Things like a parvo diagnosis. For the three years we have been a nonprofit, we have floated along. But during these uncertain times, I can’t predict how things will look in a month or a year. Things haven’t recovered for the for-profit, the Paycheck Protection Program funds have run out, and I feel overwhelmed and a little helpless. But this little bat-
eared dog needs my help right now. So that’s what I’ll concentrate on as I continue this rescue life.
One. Day. At. A. Time.

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