every rescuer at some point wants to quit...we all want to throw in the towel, we can feel ourselves dreaming of walking away...we can feel the gut wrenching bellows of " "F" OFF!" rising in our throats and we try to choke it back down.
like it is not hard enough to take in the world's unwanted and give them a place to stay. it isn't enough to scrape together each penny to feed them and give them vet care. it isn't enough that you can never leave for more than a few hours because something might happen while you are gone. it isn't enough that you are on call for everyone for apparently everything, 24 hours a day, every day. you can hold a hundred animals in your arms and ensure they have a comfortable death, you can find another hundred homes in which to be cherished. you can mop up the pee and pick up the poop of the other hundred still here. it is not enough that you sit here and weep because god did not make you good or strong or smart enough or freaking rich enough either. it is not enough that you beg the forgiveness of the cuddles and clydes and all of the others that you let down. it is not enough that you carry the burdens and guilt to care for the animals here.
and you can even love every second that you care for them, you can love every tear, every pain in the heart and still it is never enough.
at the end of each day...tell yourself over and over, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter, it doesn't freaking matter. feed the barn. clean up the pee, go feed dixie chick because she is crying. stop and touch boots's face, ask him if all is well and did he manage ok today?. look to see if jewel is in pain, check on cuddles to see if his wounds are still clean. did the chickens and ducks get fed?, how many loads of laundry are there, and is mugsy any better tonight? what do jed's eyes look like, did they get washed out today? is jesse happy, does she need a walk? did i give out all of the medications? mix up the tube feed for princeton, is gideon eating better today? order the hay, order the shavings, call the shearer, call the vet again. answer the phone, answer the email, answer the 120th question of the day.
it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter, it just the fuck doesn't matter...do your job and screw the rest, the rest of the crap doesn't matter.
and don't even think about quitting, it is far too late for that.