A very wise man gave me this inspiring advice many years ago: Never volunteer to do anything. You’ll get stuck doing it forever.
At the time I thought this pearl of wisdom was pretty cynical. These past few years have taught me otherwise.
See, I got caught up in something called cat rescue. It was fairly unintentional. Or I should say, I didn’t mean to get in so deep. It just happened. And now I can’t figure out how to get out.
To be honest, I’m not even a big fan of the term “rescue” with regards to animals. And I run a rescue. I think that’s what you call ironic.
Growing up, my family took in many stray cats over the years. Of course, that was way back in the 1970’s, and the term “rescue” was not used in conjunction with the word “animal” unless said creature had fallen into a well.
Back then, it was just what good people did. If you saw a stray cat, you fed it. If it hung around and none of the neighbors claimed it, it was yours. End of story.
These days everyone has a rescue pet. Enthusiastic animal lovers sport “Who Rescued Who?” bumper stickers and brag about the rescue animals they’ve adopted. But what does the word “rescue” really mean in this context?
To my mind, it’s political. “rescue” is a catchy word. It’s flamboyant. It inspires emotion.
People are more likely to open their homes (and their wallets) to any creature that was in such dire straits that a rescue was called for.
Yes, there are many animals living outside that were cast off by thoughtless people and giving them a home is an absolute act of kindness that saves lives. “Rescue” just seems so dramatic, more appropriate in relation to a hero pulling someone trapped in a burning building from the flames. Maybe I am just too pragmatic.
Rescue. I’ve gotten used to the word. It’s part of our vernacular at this point and isn’t going away any time soon. We all agree what it means. But I still don’t like it. It reeks of self-importance.
I think I am entitled to say that because I founded a rescue and I’ve lived and breathed it ever since. It’s one of those “I didn’t know what I didn’t know” situations. Like finding yourself standing in quicksand, there just no easy way to get out once you’re in ankle-deep.
With so many homeless cats and so many thoughtless people adding to the problem every day the need is unending. And no matter how much we do, there’s so much more to do. To simply stop would mean leaving an area without other resources completely without resources again. And there’s never enough time, money, energy, or me, to go around.
I need rescue. The cats just need homes.
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