16/04/2025
The unspoken truths about animal rescue... an observation.
This is going to sting for some, but it needs to be said - and if you truly care about animals, I know you'll understand why this conversation matters.
A lot of people get into animal rescue with hearts full of love. They’re usually incredibly sensitive, empathic people - the ones who can’t look away when they see suffering, who give everything they have to help. They feel things deeply, and their hearts break for every animal that’s abused, abandoned, or let down by humans. And that kind of empathy is powerful - it’s the reason many animals get a second chance.
And that kind of heart is beautiful. But the sad truth is: it’s not enough on its own.
Actually, it can become dangerous when it isn’t backed by boundaries, self-awareness, or emotional maturity.
Over time that sensitive nature - when left unchecked - might lead to burnout, resentment, and even harm. Many in the rescue space take on far too much because they don’t know how to say no. They push themselves past breaking point, because they feel they have to. They put the animals before everything, including their own wellbeing. And eventually, that compassion becomes clouded by exhaustion and chaos. People in rescue who start out with good intentions can get completely swallowed by the weight of it all. They can’t say no. They try to save everyone. They feel responsible for fixing what’s broken in the world. And slowly, without realising it, they begin to unravel.
Some end up angry, bitter, reactive. Others completely shut down, emotionally and physically drained. Compassion fatigue is a real thing.
Then there are those who enter rescue for more complicated reasons. Some do it for the recognition, for the “kudos” of being the hero, the saviour, the one who cares the most. It might not be conscious, but it’s there. They live for the praise, the dramatic social media posts, the applause. Their self-worth becomes tied to how many animals they save, how many people admire them - not what’s actually best for the animals.
And for others, rescue becomes a way to feel needed, important, emotionally fulfilled - even when their own lives are falling to crap behind the scenes. The rescue work fills a void. It gives them purpose, identity, and validation. But that emotional high often masks deeper wounds, and when things start falling apart, so does their ability to care properly.
Then there’s another shadow side no one wants to talk about: animal hoarding.
This one’s painful, because often it starts with good intentions. People want to save lives - but they end up taking in more animals than they can cope with. It spirals into neglect. The environment becomes unsafe. But because they still see themselves as rescuers, they don’t reach out for help. And animals end up suffering in silence, surrounded by love but lacking in proper care. This is not rescue - it’s trauma in disguise. And because the person still believes they’re doing “rescue,” they can’t see the harm they’re causing.
But this isn’t just happening on the small scale.
Let’s be brutally honest: some of the largest, most famous animal rescue organisations in the world are guilty too.
There are big-name international rescues using heartbreaking stories to rake in donations, gain fame, and funding their personal lifestyles - while behind the scenes, the animals are mishandled, mistreated, or forgotten. One of these major organisations is currently under investigation for fraud - and sadly, it’s far from the only one.
This is what happens when ego and emotion replace ethics and accountability.
Because rescue should never be about ego. It should never be about how many followers you have, or how good your stories look on social media. It should never be about being the saviour.
True rescue work is messy, unglamorous, exhausting, and deeply humbling. It takes more than a big heart. It takes boundaries. It takes emotional resilience. It takes being willing to look at your own wounds, so you don’t project them onto the animals or the people you work with.
We need to stop glorifying martyrdom and burnout in this space. We need to stop pretending every rescuer is in it for the right reasons. And we need to start having real, honest conversations about what’s actually going on behind the scenes.
This work requires structure, support, and sustainability. Without that, rescuers are just running on fumes and the animals deserve better than that.
It’s about showing up with heart, yes - but also with structure, sustainability, and self-awareness. It’s about doing your own healing work, so you don’t project your pain onto animals or others in the field. It’s about choosing integrity over attention, and asking for help when you’re in too deep.
Rescue work should be heart-led, but it also needs to be grounded, conscious, and sustainable. We need people who know how to hold boundaries, who are willing to do the inner work, and who can separate their own emotional needs from the needs of the animals.
Because the truth is: love alone isn’t enough. Not if it comes without capacity. Not if it comes without care for the self. Not if it comes with ego attached.
If we really want to help animals, we’ve got to start helping the humans doing the work too by creating safe spaces, open conversations, better support systems, and a whole lot more honesty.
It’s time we start talking about the real issues behind the scenes:
The lack of training and emotional support for rescuers.
The ego traps that turn rescue into performance.
The unresolved trauma people carry into rescue spaces.
The infighting, judgement, and lack of collaboration in the rescue community itself.
Let’s talk about the things no one wants to talk about - because that’s where real change begins. At the end of the day it is about the animals and they deserve the best from us humans.
Let’s raise the standard. For the animals. For each other. And for the future of rescue.
Your journey to a deeper connection with your animal companion starts here. I work with all animals to help their voices be heard. Welcome!
