06/07/2026
Understanding the Gravity of Rescue
Animal Control stopped by today for a routine inspection, and as always, everything went well. During our conversation, one piece of advice they offered really stuck with me: they suggested I consider not publicly sharing our losses.
And honestly? I understand why.
Sharing losses is hard. Sometimes it creates criticism. Sometimes it creates drama. Sometimes it causes people to question our care or our decisions. It would certainly be easier not to talk about it.
But I share those losses anyway.
I share them because I believe transparency matters. I want the people who follow our journey to see the reality of rescue—not just the happy endings, but the difficult moments too.
The truth is that many of the birds who come through our doors don’t arrive healthy. They often come from situations where they’ve had poor diets, limited enrichment, little or no veterinary care, inadequate housing, and years of physical and emotional stress. Many have spent their lives confined to small spaces, only seeing the outside world through a distant window. Even when they’re finally safe, the stress of rehoming and adjusting to a new environment can take a tremendous toll on their health.
My goal is never to shame previous owners. My goal is to help people understand what rescue actually looks like.
The officer and I talked about how loss is unfortunately a reality in rescue work. It happens in small rescues. It happens in large rescues. It happens in shelters, veterinary hospitals, wildlife centers, and sanctuaries. The difference is that most people never see it.
Because they don’t see it, it’s easy to assume those losses don’t exist.
But behind every organization are people carrying that grief. There are veterinarians, technicians, kennel attendants, volunteers, foster homes, shelter workers, and rescuers who go home heartbroken. There are people who cry in their cars after difficult days. People who question themselves. People who wonder if they’re doing enough. People who carry the weight of every animal they couldn’t save.
I know because I’m one of them.
When I share both the victories and the losses, I’m not looking for sympathy. I’m trying to create a space where we can have honest conversations about animal welfare and the consequences of the systems we’ve created.
If we’re only willing to look at the success stories, we’ll never fully understand why rescue exists in the first place.
The animals deserve that honesty.
And so do the people trying to help them.