Getting into bully breed dog rescue has changed my life. I no longer have any free time on the weekends, but I love it. It doesn't matter if I'm standing outside in the heat at an adoption event, spending all of my gas money driving across the metroplex (south Ft Worth to Mesquite is a LONG drive) transporting dogs, creating newsletters to send, reading adoption applications, or inspecting random people's homes to make sure they are safe for our dogs.
I get messages from friends all the time, asking if I can help a dog they found. Sometimes I succeed and find a home. Sometimes I have to ignore my facebook feed because I can't save all of them. I follow several animal shelters on Facebook, and see all the dogs that need help. I hope and wish for the day when the steady stream of dogs in need of help stops. I cry when dropping one of our dogs back off at the boarding facility because a meet and greet didn't go well. I have had to teach myself to not fall hopelessly in love with every dog, because I can't keep them all. I despise the rules of apartment complexes that automatically say no to a bully breed because of the bullshit "aggressive" stereotype.
Yesterday I drove 2 hours to take a dog to heartworm treatments. I stayed to help the vet give 4 dogs their shots. I did it all over again today. I don't get paid cash for this. I get giant, slobbery dog kisses and butt wiggles. I get to see their excitement over receiving Pupachinos form Starbucks. I know that the effort and time I spend is saving an innocent life. And I'm teaching the kidlet that every life is worth saving.
Even when I'm disheartened by the number of dogs we can't save, I remember the smiles of the ones we have, and it makes me want to continue working towards the day when we won't have to rescue anymore, and I can take a weekend off :)