09/10/2026
knowing your limits is part of responsible rescue, too.
Love them enough to alter them.
Love them enough to recognize suffering.
Love them enough to know your limits.
And love them enough to make a plan for the day youāre no longer there.
š¾ WHEN DOES RESCUE BECOME HOARDING? AND WHAT HAPPENS TO THE ANIMALS WHEN WEāRE GONE?
This is going to be a long post, but after what we have witnessed this year, I think itās a conversation the rescue community desperately needs to have.
Is animal hoarding a mental illness?
Animal hoarding is recognized as a serious mental-health/behavioral problem. One of the most troubling characteristics is that many people who hoard animals genuinely do not recognize the suffering they are causing.
And hereās something we donāt talk about enough:
Hoarding doesnāt always look like a filthy house filled with unaltered cats. Sometimes it starts with rescue.
Iāve been involved in cat rescue for three decades, and over the years Iāve seen both sides of this coin.
Weāve all seen what most people picture when they hear the words cat hoarder.
Cats breeding uncontrollably. Kittens everywhere. F***s covering floors. Overwhelming ammonia. Disease spreading from cat to cat. Sick kittens dying while more kittens continue to be born.
Yet the person living in the middle of it often doesnāt see what everyone else sees.
They love the cats.
They name the kittens.
They enjoy watching them being born.
They mourn them when they die.
Then they allow another litter to be born and repeat the cycle.
Some actively seek out more animals. Some want another color or breed they donāt already have. Others genuinely believe theyāre rescuing them and that nobody else could possibly care for the animals as well as they can.
I see some of this same thinking among what I call community-cat feeder/breeders. They love their cats and feed them faithfully, but year after year they allow those same cats to reproduce.
Whatever the intention, the result is the same:
Generation after generation of preventable suffering.
But there is another form we need to acknowledge.
RESCUERS CAN BECOME HOARDERS TOO.
It can begin with the best intentions.
One more cat needs help.
Then another.
And another.
Eventually someone becomes convinced that nobody else can care for these animals properly. They stop saying no. They exceed their financial, physical or emotional ability to provide adequate care.
Sometimes they stop adopting animals out because nobody is āgood enough.ā
Sometimes they keep suffering animals alive because euthanasia is emotionally unbearable.
Sometimes conditions slowly deteriorate and excuses replace solutions.
When our feelings become more important than an animalās welfare, we have stopped rescuing.
The number of animals alone does not determine whether someone is a hoarder.
Someone can responsibly care for 50 sanctuary cats while another person may be overwhelmed with 15.
The difference is capacity, care and reality.
Are the animals altered?
Are they receiving appropriate medical care?
Is their environment sanitary?
Do they have adequate food, water and space?
Can the caregiver financially support them?
Can the caregiver recognize suffering?
Can they say NO when theyāre at capacity?
Can they make difficult decisions based upon the animalsā quality of life rather than their own emotions?
And there is one question we donāt ask nearly enough:
WHAT HAPPENS TO ALL OF THESE ANIMALS IF SOMETHING HAPPENS TO YOU?
That question has been haunting me this year.
We have encountered one massive cat situation after another.
One involved an apartment with 30+ unaltered cats living in horrific conditions. F***s inches deep. Ammonia strong enough to burn your lungs. Cats continually reproducing and kittens being born into conditions where most would simply suffer and die.
The situation was essentially ignored until the owner was being evicted when we learned about the cats.
Then there was a completely different situation.
A woman running a sanctuary took her own life, suddenly leaving 50+ altered, well-cared-for cats behind. The home had to be sold.
Those cats were loved.
They werenāt living in filth.
They werenāt reproducing.
But suddenly they had nowhere to go.
More recently, a woman was evicted from a rural property after foreclosure. She knew this was coming. The property was sold at auction, and eventually law enforcement had to trespass the family from the property.
More than 20 cats and kittens were abandoned. Many were unaltered. They had apparently been reproducing for years. The conditions were disturbing, and what neighbors had endured was disturbing as well. These cats are still at risk. Their lives hang in the balance.
And now weāve learned about another situation in Cottonwood.
Weāre being told there may be 80ā90+ cats.
Many are reportedly intact.
The owner is in hospice.
The home is being sold.
And apparently there is no real plan for the cats.
Weāve even been told the families only plan may simply be to stop feeding them.
We donāt yet know the entire situation. Weāve only been told that it is ācat hell.ā
And right now, I have absolutely no idea what will happen to the majority of those cats.
That breaks my heart.
But these situationsādespite being very differentāhave one enormous thing in common:
THERE WAS NO ADEQUATE SAFETY NET FOR THE CATS.
Even the cleanest, most responsible sanctuary can face catastrophe.
Cancer.
A heart attack.
Dementia.
Loss of income.
Foreclosure.
Eviction.
A house fire.
A car accident.
Death.
Circumstances can change in a breath.
If 50 animals depend entirely upon one human being, there needs to be a plan for the day that human being canāt care for them anymore.
This subject is personal for me.
When my mother passed away, I took responsibility for her 30+ cats. They were altered, loved and well cared for. Like my mother, most were already very advanced in age.
But I knew those cats would become my responsibility.
There was a plan.
Thatās how it should be.
Iāve had my own sanctuary for decades. Iāll readily admit Iām a second-generation crazy cat lady. š¤£
But Iāve always focused on altering and rescue.
The number of cats in my care fluctuates. When appropriate homes become available, I place cats.
And every year I foster an ungodly number of kittens.
Not because I enjoy collecting kittens.
Quite frankly, Iām not even a fan of kittens.
Iād rather NOT foster them.
Iād rather none be born in my lifetime.
But too often Iām their last hope.
There is an enormous difference between wanting more animals and reluctantly taking responsibility for animals because there is nowhere else for them to go.
And even after three decades of rescue, I have to recognize my own limits.
Iām fortunate to have a young adult daughter who intends to carry the torch when I no longer can.
She also knows something that isnāt popular to say publicly.
If catastrophe struck and our sanctuary cats suddenly had nowhere to go, my choice would be humane euthanasia for our feral cats, rather than abandoning them or pretending dozens of unsocialized cats will magically find appropriate homes.
I hope that decision never has to be made.
But Iām a realist.
A painful plan is still better than no plan at all.
Every sanctuary, rescuer and person caring for a large number of animals should have an emergency and succession plan.
Someone should know:
Who has authority to enter the property?
Who takes immediate responsibility for the animals?
Where are their medical records?
Which animals are altered?
Which animals are adoptable?
Which are feral or sanctuary-only?
Where will the money for their care come from?
Who can legally make medical decisions?
What happens if there simply isnāt anywhere for them to go?
Write it down.
Tell your family.
Tell your veterinarian.
Make sure someone besides YOU knows the plan.
Because āanother rescue will take themā is not a plan.
Rescues are drowning.
Shelters are full.
Sanctuaries are full.
Fosters are exhausted.
There isnāt some magical place waiting to absorb 20, 50 or 90 cats when disaster strikes.
So what is the answer to animal hoarding?
I wish I knew.
Mental-health intervention?
Family intervention?
Support groups?
Earlier involvement from animal regulation?
More affordable spay/neuter?
Better laws?
Helping overwhelmed people surrender animals BEFORE the situation reaches catastrophe?
Probably all of the above.
But one thing we absolutely know:
ALTERING PREVENTS SUFFERING.
Thirty altered cats do not become 100 cats.
Twenty altered cats donāt produce litter after litter while their caregiverās life falls apart.
A community-cat colony that is truly managed through TNR eventually decreases rather than producing another generation every few months.
Spay. Neuter. TNR.
It isnāt glamorous.
It doesnāt produce adorable kitten pictures.
But it prevents suffering before rescue is ever necessary.
And perhaps we in rescue need to become more comfortable checking one another, too.
Not attacking.
Not shaming.
Checking.
āHow are you doing?ā
āAre you overwhelmed?ā
āCan you still afford this?ā
āDo these animals have what they need?ā
āDo you need help?ā
āWhatās your plan if something happens to you?ā
And sometimes:
āYou need to stop taking animals.ā
Because loving animals does not automatically mean weāre doing whatās best for them.
Sometimes love means taking one more.
Sometimes love means finding another home.
Sometimes love means saying NO.
Sometimes love means making an incredibly painful end-of-life decision.
And sometimes love means recognizing that we are no longer capable of providing what these animals need.
Thatās the line between rescue and hoarding that matters most to me:
When we put our feelings, wants or delusions ahead of the welfare of the animals, thatās no longer rescue.
After three decades of doing this, I donāt pretend to know how to stop every hoarding situation before it happens.
Iām open to suggestions.
I would genuinely love to hear from mental-health professionals, animal-control officers, rescuers, sanctuary operators, veterinarians and people who have dealt with hoarding within their own families.
How do we intervene BEFORE there are 80 cats?
Because by the time someone calls us about the house with 80ā90 cats, the catastrophe has already happened.
And this year, we have already taken on two massive groups of cats.
We simply cannot take another.
Thatās heartbreaking to say.
But knowing your limits is part of responsible rescue, too.
Love them enough to alter them.
Love them enough to recognize suffering.
Love them enough to know your limits.
And love them enough to make a plan for the day youāre no longer there. š¾ā¤ļø
