10/12/2026
There’s a first time for everything, and apparently the time has come for me to make a post I’ve never made before.
Comments like this and people like this are some of the biggest reasons why people walk away from animal rescue.
It’s not just the work, the financial burden, the sleepless nights, the sacrifices, or the fact that so often we’re the only ones willing to show up. It’s being treated like absolute garbage on top of all of those things that finally makes it not worth it anymore.
Let me be very clear: for over two years, I have been delivering entire trailers of free dog food to this community. Beyond that, I’ve personally delivered boxes upon boxes of food, trailers full of donated clothing and household items, and countless other necessities to families who needed them.
Last Christmas Eve, instead of spending that time with my own family, I personally hand-delivered over $2,000 worth of wrapped Christmas presents to this community so children could wake up Christmas morning with gifts under their trees.
I don’t say any of this because I expect recognition or praise. I say it because I want people to understand just how much of my own life, time, money, and resources I have poured into helping this community.
Now, let’s talk about this dog.
This dog spent her life outside. Every time I visited, I would find her either alone in an outdoor doghouse or lying in the dirt next to the foundation of a home. Alone.
Earlier this spring, I received permission from her owner to have her spayed. I personally drove to pick her up, transported her to the veterinarian, paid for her surgery, and kept her in my home for several days afterward to ensure she healed properly and didn’t develop an infection.
The owner paid nothing. Not for the surgery, not for my fuel, not for the food she ate while recovering, not for the space in my home, and certainly not for my time. And I didn’t ask them to.
My only reward was knowing that this dog would never again have to put her body through pregnancy after pregnancy, producing puppies that would likely end up living the same life she had.
At that time, I actually had someone interested in adopting her. Someone who wanted to give her a home. But her owners wanted her back, and because that was our agreement, I returned her.
Fast-forward a few months. The owners began receiving eviction notices because the housing community they lived in did not permit animals under their lease agreements. They reached out to me for help, and again, I showed up.
I agreed to take both of their dogs to help prevent them from losing their housing. I used my own gas, my own vehicle, my own time, and my own resources to go pick them up.
Since then, this dog has been living in my home as my personal foster. I have fed her, housed her, cared for her, and worked with her for months to help her overcome the anxiety she developed after finally experiencing what it feels like to live inside a home and be part of a family.
A dog who spent her life outside, alone, is now struggling with separation anxiety because she has finally learned what companionship, comfort, and belonging feel like.
And after ALL of that, this person, a relative of the owner, has the audacity to accuse me of taking their dog for free so I can turn around and make money off her.
Get over yourself.
Do you have any idea how much money, time, energy, and emotional investment goes into rehabilitating and caring for an animal? Do you honestly believe that after paying for her veterinary care, transporting her, feeding her, housing her, and spending months helping her adjust to a completely different life, I’m somehow coming out ahead financially?
The absolute ignorance of that accusation is infuriating.
And now, after asking me to take this dog because they couldn’t keep her, this person wants her returned to the very circumstances I have spent months helping her recover from.
Usually, when I share situations like this, I remove names. I try to remain respectful, avoid unnecessary drama, and maintain some level of professionalism while still being transparent about the realities of rescue but maybe after 17 years, I just don’t have much class left in me. Or maybe I’m simply exhausted.
Exhausted from being taken advantage of. Exhausted from being expected to give endlessly while asking for absolutely nothing in return. Exhausted from being bullied, insulted, and accused by the very people I’ve gone out of my way to help.
For 17 years, I have given pieces of myself to animals and people who needed someone to show up. I have sacrificed holidays, family time, financial security, sleep, and more of my personal life than most people will ever understand.
And somehow, even after all of that, there are still people who will look you in the face and treat you like you’re the scum of the earth.
This is what people don’t understand when they ask why rescues are closing, why volunteers are quitting, and why people who once had so much passion for saving animals finally reach a point where they just can’t do it anymore.
It’s not because we stopped loving the animals. It’s because loving the animals doesn’t make us immune to the cruelty of people.
Eventually, even the people with the biggest hearts get tired of being treated like they don’t have one.
I’m tired of being classy. I’m tired of being bullied. I’m tired of doing all the work, making all the sacrifices, and still being painted as the villain.
I have spent 17 years trying to be part of the solution, and I’m tired of being treated like I’m the problem.
I wear a tattoo across my arm that covers a scar from a time in my life when I wasn’t as strong as I am today.
That tattoo is in memory of Mikayla Raines, a fellow rescue warrior who endured relentless bullying and tragically took her own life.
But it’s more than a memorial. It’s also a promise I made to myself. A promise that I will keep going, even when things get hard. Even when people are cruel. Even when I’m exhausted, discouraged, and questioning whether everything I’ve given has been worth it.
It’s a reminder of how deeply words and actions can hurt someone, and how important it is to remember that the person on the receiving end is a human being too.
You have no idea what someone has already survived, what they’re carrying, or how hard they’re fighting just to keep going.
Your actions have consequences. Your words have consequences.
Stop acting so ugly.
