All of my pets have always been ‘rescues’.  I could never quite understand why one should encourage the perpetual breeding of domestic pets when there are always so many unwanted souls desperate for a good home.  It doesn’t seem to matter which country you live in – without doubt you will find rescue centres and animal charities bursting at the seams with deserving cases.  Such is the legacy of human fickleness or selfishness.

 Way back in the summer of 1993 I fulfilled a long-held ambition by opening a boarding kennels on a small croft in Lanarkshire.  No sooner had I established a fledgling customer base, than I befriended an elderly couple who dedicated their entire waking hours (and more) to the rescuing and re-homing of dogs and cats.  By my first Xmas I had a dozen dogs in my kennels, only 2 of whom were paying customers!  I must pay credit to my husband who, despite having a ‘proper job’, helped me to walk all dogs individually during weekends and holidays. 

Having been one to avoid the RSPCA re-homing centres – facing all of those pleading brown eyes and wagging tails would surely spell emotional meltdown – I suddenly found myself at the helm of a re-homing rollercoaster.  The good thing about my new ‘trustees’ was that they insisted on a home visit to match all dogs with prospective new owners, with a guaranteed option to ‘return to sender’ should things not work out: Many a time I’d shed a quiet tear at night, having said farewell to one of my ‘regulars’, only to see them reappear several days later.  For example, ‘Buster’ the springer spaniel – full of energy and mischief.  I fell for him big-time but could not keep him due to his only downfall, a desire to attack cats, of which we had three.  (Besides, by this time, I had already acquired 4 dogs of my own).  Buster left and returned three times before finally landing lucky.  Each time that little face reappeared at my gate I was never quite sure whether to feel happy or sad.  Others were lucky and found new homes relatively quickly.

 There were always ‘special cases’, such as a Staffordshire bitch and her puppies who had been bred specifically for the trade of dog-fighting.  I didn’t ask about the circumstances of their rescue, but had the pleasure of their company until a retired policeman travelled up fromYorkshireto take them to a re-homing centre which specialized in this breed.  The most personally rewarding case of all was a black lab bitch who I named ‘Leah’.  She had been found wandering next to a busy motorway and had obviously been previously tethered to something.  On arrival she cowered at the back of the kennel with fear etched in her sad eyes.  She was extremely nervous about being touched, especially around her neck.  This dog amazed me – after gradually gaining her trust through gentle words and treatment, by the end of 10 days she was enthusiastically enjoying walks on lead and collar.  A lovely lady and her teenage daughter came to see her and my lasting memory of Leah was seeing her snuggled up on a rug in front of a warm fire in their living room.

 Yes, there were tears – and much frustration at the shortage of new homes, but, on balance, these were far outweighed by the gratitude displayed in return for even the slightest bit of love and attention offered, and the magic of every ‘happy ending’.

 So if you’re considering getting a pet, please don’t overlook all the rescues out there.  Or why not foster until you find your perfect match!  Once my current brood have all gone to the great kennels in the sky I would like to consider fostering again (though on a smaller scale), however I’m sure it would not be long until I was up to full capacity again.

 Dawn Camilli

 Dawn lives in the Charente with husband, 3 children, 3 dogs and 3 cats.