Rescue Journal

almost 150 deaths in less than 4 years...

Carol  ·  Oct. 13, 2009

i wonder, what do people think about that? do they think i am used to it now, that i don't feel it as deeply as i used to?

these guys here...they are my guys...each and every one. i live with them, care about them, worry about them, carry the responsibility for them...7 days a week, 365 days a year. the saints animals are my family, i opened my doors so they could come home.

i am not always crying when they die now..i think spritely took the last of my tears away...or maybe she just borrowed them and eventually they will come back again.

five animals lost in the past month....spritely, boo, marty, muffin and grammy.. 26 this year alone, 150 in total...can anyone believe that i can still feel loss when they go?

i wonder how i can still feel anything at all..not just the emptiness of their passing...but even loving them to begin with.

bobbie brown's ex home called today...they have decided they made a mistake and want to have him back. i wonder if they remember that they asked me how to go about putting him down when i originally said we were too full to take him. how would you change your mind about that mistake, once he was dead?

anyway..i said no. i love that cat and i want him to be happy. but i also want him to be safe and loved. i lose these guys so often and mostly there is nothing i can do about it because basically, they just reach the end of their road. but i can't even concieve of looking to make their roads shorter because they are no longer convenient or the timing is wrong.

how does someone you love become inconvenient?..someone someday can explain that to me.

all that i know is after 150 deaths of animals i gave over my life to, my tears may have run out.... but my caring for them, the memory of them, the want of them back again never seems to give up. i can feel grammy's wool beneath my fingers, i can see spritely's deep dark eyes, i can smell clyde and feel his warmth, boo is still perched on top of my stove and dexter can still make me smile.

here is the thing about death for is a loss, it is irrevocable, it is eventually inevitable, but it is never nothing to me.

new old, arthritic, no longer of use horse, soon to be homeless pig whose family are moving, and four birds who the landlord says have to get out, now.

here is the thing about end of the road rescue...they come and you learn to love them quickly...every single picking favorites, no pretending you don't have to, that they just are not interesting enough to really putting it off too long the back and front of your mind is always .... they might soon be gone.

maybe i won't ever cry again...maybe i have cried enough for one lifetime. but this i do know...they come here to die because they have no where else to go. that alone makes them beyond precious to me.



I can't believe Bobbi Browns owners asked for him back! The nerve! It would have been even better to say "no we have found him a forever home that wants him for the rest of his days". I guess they just came back from a big trip to an empty house.

Marla from South Dakota

Perhaps you don't have any tears for their passing because in your heart you know that you did everything you could do for them, made their lives so much better, and helped them leave this world peacefully to go on to a better place where there is no pain, no distrust, no fraility, and only warmth, happiness, and grace. They knew love at the end of their days, and that's all that matters. Perhaps when they go, they've taken your tears with them: the tears you shed when they were frightened or in pain or making it through another crisis. Certainly they've all taken a piece of your heart, knowing that you will always have room for another who needs that same caring, compassionate, loving safety in their lives.


I admire your strength Carol....I've lost 5 companions in the last year and am still a blubbering baby. As I've said before, I don't know how you do it but I'm glad you do for them. Not crying shouldn't be a questionable issue when you are faced with end of lives so very often. I see it as you having great inner strength to continue on for the others.


Carol, these gifts from heaven don't come to SAINTS to die, they come to SAINTS to live - to rediscover life they had so long ago forgotten about or to discover it for the first time. How wonderful that so many have found you.

Mauro Salles

How many did you "save", direct or indirectly, including 150 gone in less then 4 years ?!?!?!? Don´t "count" them ... I "stole" the following poem from, that applies to cats, pigs ... and others "animals" :


The one absolutely unselfish friend that
a man can have in this selfish world,
the one that never deserts him,
the one that never proves ungrateful
or treacherous, is his dog.

A man's dog stands by him in prosperity
and in poverty,
in health and in sickness.
He will sleep on the cold ground where
the wintery winds blow,
and the snow drives fiercely,
if only he may be near his master's
side. He will kiss the hand that has no
food to offer, he will lick the sores
and wounds that come in encounter with
the roughness of the world. He guards
the sleep of his Pauper master as if he
were a prince.

When all other friends desert,
he remains.
When riches take wings and reputation
falls to pieces, he is as constant in
his love as the sun in it's journey
through the heavens.
If misfortune drives the master forth
an outcast in the world, friendless
and homeless, the faithful dog asks
no higher privilege than that of
accompanying him to guard against
danger, to fight against his enemies.

And when the last scene of all comes,
and death takes the master in it's
embrace, and his body is laid away in
the cold ground, no matter if all other
friends pursue their way, there by the
graveside will the noble dog be found,
his head between his paws, his eyes sad,
but open in alert watchfulness,
faithful and true, even in death.

-From a speech given by
Former Senator George Graham Vest
of Missouri. Delivered in 1870 when he
was acting as a lawyer in a suit against
a man who had killed the dog of his
client. -- He won the case."