When all we can do is love them
When we rescue a cat, we always hope we have found them in time.
We hope to save their lives, heal their wounds, and change their world forever. We dream of giving them years of safety, comfort, and love after everything they may have suffered.
But sometimes, despite all our hopes, every effort we make, and all the love we pour into them, God has other plans, and our time with them is far shorter than we ever imagined.
Sometimes we find them too late and that is perhaps one of the hardest parts of rescue.
It is heartbreaking to open your heart to a soul, rush them to safety, fight for them, and then have to say goodbye only a few days later. So were the cases of our little baby Luna and, last year, with our adorable grandpa Toby.
We may not always be able to give them the years we had hoped for, but we can give them something equally important: the comfort of knowing that, in their final days—or even their final hours—they were no longer alone. That someone cared. That they were loved.
Then there are those found a little too late. Holly, Charlie, Cappuccino, and Nikki—precious souls whose suffering was so severe that, right after their rescue, the kindest thing we could do was to let them go peacefully, and the only memories we are left with are a few precious photographs of them lying in the carrier.
As hard as it is, we have to accept that rescue is not always about how long we can keep them with us, but about making sure that, when their time comes to leave this world, they are not alone.
That they feel gentle hands, warmth, comfort, and kindness. That they receive the care they so desperately need. That when their time comes, they cross the Rainbow Bridge with dignity, surrounded by love.
And then there are those we feed, care for, and try to protect but not all get to be rescued. In 2023, we could successfully rescue Cheeky and Frankie, but we lost little Blackie; he was run over and found lifeless at the side of the road.
Last year, we were fortunate enough to rescue Cricket and Vinny, but we also lost so many other little ones to roadkill. Some were gone before we could even reach them, and their lives ended without ever knowing the safety of a loving home.
This year, while Lunita was fighting for her life in the ICU, Lucy, Lea, Oreo, Jet, Patches, Archie, and Alfie succumbed to an aggressive outbreak of calicivirus in their colony. They were all just between one and three months old, babies born into such a hostile and unforgiving environment that they never even got the chance to grow up.
So, after almost 14 years of cat rescue, we have painfully come to terms with the fact that happy endings are not always guaranteed. Our mission is, above all, to give them the love, comfort, and dignity they deserve, and to make sure that they never leave this world forgotten, unseen, or unheard.
They will ALL live forever in our hearts.
