This morning started the way too many do – before the sun had even risen, our phones were already ringing. By 7am, we had already answered several calls from people asking to surrender their animals. Not one person called to adopt.
And this isn’t unusual.
Call after call, it’s the same refrain – “I need to give up my dog.” “My new apartment doesn’t allow pets.” “Can you take my cat today?”
Sometimes there’s panic. Sometimes cold detachment. But almost never is there the weight of responsibility that should come with caring for a life. And somehow, that hurts the most.
Then, there was Reba.
Someone threw her from their car. Just threw her. Like a piece of gum spat out a window. Like she didn’t matter. Like she didn’t feel pain. Like she didn’t love someone once.
She was found trembling, dirty, scraped up, and heartbroken. A one-year-old cat who had no idea what she did wrong. You look into her eyes and see the ache of betrayal, the question all abandoned animals carry in their hearts: Why wasn’t I worth keeping?
We say we’re a nation of animal lovers – but where is that love when it’s inconvenient? When the cost of vet care goes up? When a baby is born? When someone moves or a landlord says “no pets”? Love doesn’t walk away like that. People do.
Let’s be clear: animals are not burdens. They are not disposable. They are not mistakes to fix by handing them off to someone else.
They are beings – sentient, emotional, and deeply bonded to the people they trust. And they suffer when that trust is broken. Every single time.
At our rescue, we are doing everything we can – taking in the neglected, the unwanted, the forgotten. We are holding the ones who were thrown away, and whispering to them that they matter, that they’re safe now, that we won’t give up on them.
But we can’t keep up with the pace of abandonment if the world doesn’t change. If people don’t start treating animals as lifelong commitments – not temporary comforts.
If you’re reading this, I’m asking you to think about the Reba’s of the world. To speak up. To educate. To adopt responsibly. To never look at an animal and think: It’s not my problem. Because if you have the heart to care, it is.
We can do better. And we must.
Because Reba isn’t a burden. She’s not a mistake. She’s a soul – and she deserves better than what this world gave her.
Signed – a tired rescue worker with hope still in her heart.
