Some days it feels like the phone never stops ringing.
A dog was found tied to a fence. A cat was discovered wandering a parking lot. Someone’s relative passed away and they don’t want to inherit their dog. A family is moving in two weeks and doesn’t want to bring their pets. A couple is having a baby. A landlord changed their mind. A roommate doesn’t like fur.
And the same words echo again and again: “Can you take them today?”
People want quick solutions. Instant fixes. They want the responsibility gone before the sun sets. They expect rescues to be ready, open, and waiting – with space, money, and time. They want us to say “yes,” and they want us to say it now.
But what so many don’t understand is this: animals are not boxes to be handed off. They are not mistakes to undo, or inconveniences to erase. They feel every moment of this rejection. They carry the confusion. The betrayal. And we – rescuers – carry the weight of trying to soften that fall. Of being the ones who say yes when we don’t have the room. Of rearranging everything to make space for a broken heart in a kennel.
This culture of urgency and disposal – this mindset that animals are optional until they’re not convenient – hurts more than just the animals. It pushes already stretched rescues to breaking points. It sets impossible expectations. It overlooks the fact that a rescue center is not a catch-all solution. We’re not limitless. We’re not warehouses. We’re doing our best, but we are human. And there’s only so many lives we can lift up at once.
It’s not fair. It’s not realistic. And it’s not okay.
So, if you’re reading this, and you love animals – even a little – let’s change how we talk about them. Let’s stop expecting rescues to be emergency dumps. Let’s encourage people to plan, to train, to keep. Let’s teach that rehoming should be thoughtful, not reactionary. And that commitment means for life.
Because we’re not here to make it easy to walk away.
We’re here to be the last chance – for those who had no other.
And it’s time we stop being everyone’s first escape route.
