18/05/2025
When Rescue Becomes Performance — And Animals Pay the Price
There’s a particular kind of heartbreak that doesn’t get talked about much in the animal rescue world. It’s not the sad stories, the medical emergencies, or even the deaths. It’s what happens when rescue becomes a brand—and compassion becomes content.
Recent events in the community and reading about “Help a Paw Essex.” made me reflect. On the surface, it looked like everything we want to believe in: tear-jerking posts, before-and-after photos, and just enough warm filters to soften the edges of suffering. But dig just a little deeper, and you start to see the fractures. Thirty-seven dogs dead. Dozens more neglected. And one man finally arrested.
But the damage’s already done.
And let’s be honest: it’s not about the axolotl community or a particular group. It’s a pattern. A sickness spreading through the rescue community—especially online. We’ve glamorised trauma. We’ve turned vulnerable animals into content. And somewhere along the way, many “rescues” stopped asking, What’s best for this dog? and started asking, What will get the most engagement this week?
Let me be clear: real rescue is not a story arc.
It’s not a 48-hour turnaround.
It’s not photogenic. It’s slow. Quiet. Often boring. Sometimes brutal.
It’s water testing. Diet logs. Weeks of silence while you build trust with something too afraid to make eye contact.
It’s refusing to rehome too soon. Refusing to ship across borders for clout. Refusing to post suffering for pity-clicks.
It’s doing the right thing when no one’s looking—especially then.
I don’t run a big rescue. I don’t have thousands of followers. But I’ve cared for enough overlooked, mistreated creatures—some with gills, some with paws—to know what actual care looks like.
It’s not always shareable. But it’s always real.
If your rescue work requires branding, drama, and emotional manipulation to function, it’s not rescue.
It’s exploitation.
And the animals deserve better.