06/20/2026
I don't know if this post will even make sense.
Maybe I'm just emotional tonight.
Maybe being on vacation for two weeks has given me enough time to slow down and think. Maybe the walls I've spent years building to protect myself from the heartbreak have cracked a little.
Whatever it is, it's weighing heavy.
I keep staring at the walls asking myself the same question.
Is it worth it?
The heartache.The tears.The stress.The financial burden.The constant worry.
Is it worth it?
And every time the answer comes back the same.
Yes.
Because we've saved thousands of cats and kittens.
Thousands.
When I really stop and think about that, it almost doesn't seem possible for a tiny rescue like ours.
But then the next thought creeps in.
What happens next?
What does Kibbles N Kovers look like two years from now?
Three years from now?
Five years from now?
I don't know. How do we continue?
Do we finally push through the 501(c)(3) paperwork we've started and stopped more times than I can count? Every time we've tried, life happened. Kittens happened. Emergencies happened. Something always needed us more.
Would it help?
Would it change anything?
Do we start focusing harder on local adoptions again? We used to do them. We still do some. Could we do more?
And if we do, do we have the volunteers to make it happen?
Do we have enough people willing to help carry this weight?
And then there is the thought I always come back to.
The building.
For years I've talked about a building.
For years it felt like a dream.
Now it feels like a necessity.
Because I look at what we're trying to do and I honestly don't know how we continue at this level without one.
A quarantine room.
A kitten room.
An adoption room.
A place where people can come meet cats.
A place that gives us some stability in a future that feels increasingly uncertain.
We've been given the opportunity to buy a building.
The reality is we can't afford it.
We've been given the opportunity to lease it.
The reality is that feels impossible too.
Some months we're already wondering how we're going to cover spays, neuters, vaccines, food, litter, medical care, health certificates, and everything else these cats need.
How do you add a lease payment to that?
The thing is, I don't worry much about today.
We'll figure out today.
We always do.
It's tomorrow that keeps me wondering.
It's next
We've built incredible relationships with rescues up north. They have changed the lives of so many cats and kittens from our area.
But what if things change?
What if next year they're full?
What if they can't take the numbers they take now?
What if transport changes?
Kate has been nothing short of amazing. She charges us little more than a van rental, gas, and sometimes a hotel room. We've looked around. We know what transport normally costs.
We know how lucky we are.
But what if one day that changes too?
I guess nobody knows what the future holds.
But when you're responsible for 150 to 200 cats and kittens, you don't have the luxury of not thinking about it.
Maybe that's the hardest part of rescue.
It's not saving the cats in front of you.
It's making sure you're still able to save the ones that come next.
I know this rescue deserves a future.
I just don't know exactly what that future looks like.
So tonight I'm asking for ideas.
Suggestions.
Maybe someone that has an established rescue with a building and that does adoptions and everything we've mentioned can give us feedback?.
Maybe someone has ideas we haven't considered.
Or maybe someone wants to take a leap of faith with us.
Maybe there are enough people who believe in what we've built to help us lease a building for a year and see if it's the next step.
I don't know.
What I do know is that every time someone has told us something was out of reach, this rescue found a way to reach for it anyway.
Maybe that's what we'll do this time too. ❤️🐾 we may be a tiny rescue but we are mighty.
