12/12/2024
I felt this ❤️🩹
Rescue work doesn’t make you stronger.
It doesn’t MAKE you anything.
It reveals you.
“Well that didn’t go as planned,” is one thing you’ll say (probably with a few expletives thrown in) quite a bit. A lot in fact. In fact it’s hardly worth planning anything. Most things go t**s up. So it’s better to just take each day as it comes and fly by the seat of your pants, happy pants of course!
Control is a mere illusion... The thought that you have any, at any given time, is utterly false. One minute you’re calmly feeding a cow the next minute you’re chasing a pig down the lane. Your entire day can derail within ten seconds of the rising sun.
Sometimes sleep is a luxury... So are lunch and dinner. Oh and breakfast and brushing your hair. Odd socks are quite common too (or maybe that’s just me..)
You find muscles that you never knew existed from trying to stop an overly full wheelbarrow of horse p**p from tipping over. Or from trying to wade through 2ft deep mud without losing a welly.
Injuries become a regular daily occurrence and you find bruises which you have no idea where they come from, in random shapes and strange places.. you get used to saying “oh that’s a cockerel peck,” and “that’s a pig bite..” as if it’s as common as a paper cut. I’ve had black eyes from emus and toenails removed by cows.. but I expect the best are yet to come..
And it’s when one of theses animals is ill, you’ll go to heroic lengths to minimise their discomfort. Their needs come first. Above your own, above your partners, above your friends and family.. they have to. That’s what rescue is.
In summer heatwaves and on bitterly cold winter days - come rain, shine or snow - clean water, clean bed and plenty of feed. Before you have your first meal, they all eat. Standard.
They become your friends. You talk to them and they talk to you, just not out loud. They see you in all your “hedge backwards” hair glory, morning eye bags and evening mud packs and there’s still no judgement. Just love and appreciation for you saving them.
When you lose one of them, even though you know that day is inevitable, you still feel sadness, angst and emotional pain from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. And it’s a heaviness that lingers even though you must regroup and press on.
You’ll remain present no matter what because you must. There is no other option.
You’ll ask for so many miracles and hold out hope until the very last.
You cry a lot. You’ll laugh a lot. And you’ll need some really good soap!
You will, at least once, face-plant in the p**p pile and peeing outside just becomes the norm. When you gotta go, you gotta go - even if you are at the top of the sheep hill!
You’re always on sunset clock, knowing what time it gets dark and what time the chickens need to be put to bed. The earliness of this becomes a great advantage of the winter season.. probably the only advantage of the winter season.
You’ll become weirdly obsessive about the weather. And quite fearful of the wind. When it’s sunny you’re in the best mood because you can see the animals enjoying it.
You friends think you’re nutty but they love your craziness and big heart. And they know you’re always late for everything, with stories like, “sorry I’m late, I found a stray cat on the way..”
You’ll go out in public (which is usually only as far as the supermarket or animal feed shop) wearing dirty clothes, muddy boots and probably smelling of p**p. (Any dogs you meet have their noses superglued to your trousers, addicted to the smell of 500 different types of animal and animal p**p on you.) Muddy boots just become an extended part of your being. And wellies! You get excited about wellies! You’re envious of other people wellies, you’re proud of your own wellies, you’re devastated when your favourite pair get a hole in. Wellies are your life.
You can wash your clothes. They won’t look any cleaner, but they will probably smell nicer. As for your vehicle - it’s most likely a 4x4 or pick up and most likely has an interior lavishly decorated with straw and an exterior that resembles a mud hut on wheels. There’s no point washing that one.
But for all the mud in your life there’s an awful lot of love. And it’s the best type - unconditional love. For every tear in your eye, there’s a thank you in theirs. And that’s why you do what you do.
Rescue is hard - hard on the body, mind and hands! Heavy on the heart, but heavy with reward.
So should you ever have the opportunity to work or volunteer at a rescue or sanctuary, take the chance! You will never do anything more satisfying in your entire life.
Rescue doesn’t make you anything.
Rescue makes you.
