For the past 15 years I’ve blogged and authored books on the topic of the positive effects of the dog-human relationship. My dog Quint came into my life just seven weeks after my late husband’s passing and has been my quintessential companion since the earliest days of my loss. It’s hard to believe that Quint’s fifth birthday, and the fifth anniversary of Rich’s passing will take place in three months. 

When I first moved to my new community in rural Florida in 2023, I became involved with a local animal rescue group, adopting a puppy I met during my first visit to the facility. I also served for a time as a board member for the rescue. It was a good way to meet like-minded people and make local connections. Although no longer a board member, I try to help when I can.

I enjoyed working with my colleagues on fundraising projects, but in hindsight, I think the pressure was too much for me. The problems here seemed so large here, nearly insurmountable, and my new associates had no way of knowing that I only had so much to give after all the losses I’d sustained. I came here as a “blank slate” but sometimes that has its challenges as well. We can silently burn out even while still truly caring.  

One of the major successes of that rescue was the launching of a mobile spay and neuter unit to serve an underserved community where many can’t afford their own health care let alone surgical procedures for their pets.

Due to several factors, however, and through no fault on their part, this rescue could no longer maintain their low-cost spay and neuter offerings. Now its fate lies elsewhere. As a former fund raiser for the organization, I was disappointed to learn that the final procedures took place last week. Everyone involved tried hard to make the mobile unit a success, and there is hope it still can be in the near future. Getting veterinarians to come to a rural area when many veterinarian facilities are now corporately owned and operated brings another level of challenge.

There are now four dogs residing in our household. Quint, who is blind has adapted well to country life, but it was with great sadness to be informed that his mother, Shasta, suddenly passed just days ago after a medical incident. Shasta was a pregnant stray dumped on the streets of California and pulled from the shelter by Joy Manley and her R & R Rescue just in time to give birth in a foster home. Unfortunately, lack of accountability has no geographic borders.

Those who adopt their pets often don’t know much about the animal’s past life situation and take them into their own homes on blind faith. Sometimes even a shelter can’t know. Sometimes I see a correlation between these discarded pets and the situations of many who are widowed. In each case, they’ve lost their most important person, the vital centers of their universe. Each of their lives have been changed often without warning and all are in need of caring individuals to provide hope and a chance for the good lives they deserve. Maybe that’s why widowed folks bond so closely with their pets, especially those that have been re-homed. 

I still help the local rescue, and those I’ve come to know personally. But, I’ve learned to conserve and protect my personal resources and to know my limits because I don’t want to burn out. I think I found myself in this rural area for a reason, and I hope some day I can be a larger part of the positive change that is so needed here.

Have a restful and restorative Saturday. Always know that even the “smallest” effort or donation can make a difference.