10/28/2026
Dear Kathy Balistreri, and any others who take offense. Why don’t you take a stroll through my page and look back over the last year and see how many times I’ve actually asked people for money?
The only times I have asked for financial help have been for veterinary care and, unfortunately, cremations when we lose an animal.
I’m sorry if you have somehow gotten the impression that all I do is ask people for money, but I can assure you that couldn’t be further from the truth.
We do an enormous amount of work at 1 Love Dog Rescue, and we do it because we genuinely care about the animals. The majority of the expenses come directly out of my own pocket, and every dollar I have is something I have personally worked to earn.
But you cannot expect one person to carry the entire financial burden of rescuing, rehabilitating, feeding, housing, and providing medical care for so many animals. Over 20 animals a month go through my doors sometimes more and that’s only because my ability to do more was crippled by another cruel person. Back then it was over 50.
There’s an old saying that it takes a village to raise a child. Well, the same principle applies to animal rescue. It takes a community of people coming together, each contributing what they can, to make a difference.
And when unexpected emergencies happen, sometimes I need to ask for help.
Believe me, asking people for money is not something I enjoy doing. It doesn’t make me feel good about myself. In fact, it’s one of the hardest parts of this job. But I also understand that sometimes allowing my pride to get in the way of asking for help could literally mean the difference between life and death for an animal.
So I swallow my pride, and I ask.
I don’t expect everyone to donate. I don’t expect everyone to agree with how I do things. And I certainly don’t expect anyone to give money they don’t have.
But I do believe there’s a difference between choosing not to help and going out of your way to criticize someone who is trying to help.
Your rude remarks don’t make my job any easier. They don’t make the veterinary bills disappear, they don’t put food in the dogs’ bowls, and they certainly don’t make the need for help any less.
Anybody who knows me personally or has ever visited my rescue knows that I’m not walking around wearing fancy jewelry, driving expensive cars, or living some extravagant lifestyle.
Most of what I own is something that somebody else considered junk, something I took and worked on with my own two hands to turn into something worthwhile.
And in a strange way, that’s exactly what I do with dogs.
I take animals that somebody else has discarded, animals that someone no longer sees value in, and I help turn them into somebody else’s greatest treasure.
But I cannot do that alone.
I don’t have some endless supply of money. I don’t have a wealthy organization funding everything behind the scenes. I don’t have a guaranteed source of income that covers every emergency, every surgery, every bag of food, or every unexpected loss.
And if you happen to know where I can find that kind of funding, I would genuinely appreciate your suggestions.
Because I can promise you this: The day I have enough reliable funding to cover every animal’s needs is the day I will no longer have to ask another human being for a donation.
Until that day comes, I will continue doing what I have to do.
Because the generosity of a few people can change the lives of so many animals.
And as far as cremating this puppy goes, I’m sorry that you don’t see the same value in giving him a dignified final resting place that I do.
But that little puppy mattered to me.
His life mattered. His suffering mattered. And his death mattered.
I held him, cared for him, fought for him, and did everything within my ability to give him a chance at life. And when that wasn’t enough, I made sure he left this world knowing warmth, comfort, and love.
I’m not going to apologize for wanting to give him dignity in death, just as I tried to give him dignity in life.
Everybody has different beliefs, different values, and different ways of dealing with death. I respect your right to make those decisions for yourself, and I simply ask that you respect mine.
You don’t have to donate. You don’t have to agree with me. But you also don’t have to make an already heartbreaking situation harder for someone who is simply trying to do some good in this world.
At the end of the day, I will continue rescuing animals, whether people agree with me or not. Because this has never been about money, recognition, or what anybody thinks of me.
It’s about the dogs. It always has been, and it always will be.
When I’m dead and gone, if anybody chooses to remember me or the life I lived, they’re probably not going to remember me because I was good at cooking barbecue chicken. They’re not going to remember me for the things I owned, the money I made, or the things I accomplished.
They’re going to remember me because I was
Justin the Dogfather.
The guy who dedicated his life to giving dogs a second chance. The guy who fought for the ones nobody else wanted, who loved the ones nobody else loved, and who never stopped trying, even when it broke his heart.
I’ve never needed to be famous, wealthy, or important. I just wanted my time on this earth to mean something.
And if my legacy is simply that thousands of dogs got to live better lives because I was here, then I think that’s a pretty damn good life to have lived.
Because at the end of the day, it was never about me. It was always about the dogs. ❤️🐾
