In all things -Be Kind
There seems to be something going around the ‘interwebz’ of late. That something is a sense of entitled, rude, bullying behavior in email and social media directed at rescue organizations (and really, equine professionals as a whole), and it’s NOT OKAY.
I’ve seen similar posts, both from rescue directors I admire, who have been rescuing horses longer than this organization has existed. Both came from the same point of frustration, and both were a mirror to what I feel on a weekly basis. Then there are the posts from veterinary clinics who are bullied by owners who are not their clients, trainers who cannot humanly live up to an uneducated owner’s timeline of expectations, service providers who are working 20-hour days in an attempt to appease and grow their customer base…where does it end? It seems we all need a reality check if we want our industry to survive.
Professionally, I work with vets. I know about “compassion fatigue” and I recognize the signs. It’s interesting to me that we’re all feeling it. Perhaps it’s because the world is waking up after a year of isolation. It seems that everything surrounding rescue has gotten harder, not easier. COVID slowed and nearly stopped our ability to have fundraisers outside of this platform, but it didn’t slow the number of horses in need. On the other hand, people have gotten meaner, pettier, more entitled, and it seems like it’s harder for people to care about THIS horse, who is “safe” with a rescue, versus THAT horse, owned by a trader who is extorting money from people who aren’t even qualified to own a lap dog. Veterinarians, animal rescuers, social workers – are compassionate empaths by nature. But after a while, after the people factor gets to a certain point, you just get overwhelmed and burned out and stop caring so much because you simply can’t.
Rescue is hard.
It’s hard to tell people “no.” It’s hard to work toward solutions for an owner and their horse, (and know that we want to help, but sometimes we just can’t) only to be cussed because you don’t have the space and money to responsibly bring this particular horse into the organization immediately. Or because a horse is beyond saving. Or because we offer alternatives when we can’t say “yes.”
It’s hard to balance the needs of an existing herd, their fosters, volunteers who want to help but don’t have the skillset to be hands-on, volunteers who sign up but don’t show up so others constantly fill the gaps, and those who go above and beyond so consistently that they're probably burned out, too.
None of us who get involved in rescue think we’re going to give up our entire life to the rescue – but that’s what happens. It is a 24/7/365 job with no pay, and I can’t at this point count the number of nights I’ve spent in the barn or getting up every hour to check on someone who is touch and go to make it until morning, only to have a barrage of messages to respond to or else, the following day. It’s hard to fight to save a life – either with a legal case you desperately try to get custody of and are denied repeatedly, or for the BCS 1s that arrive so weak they may not live at all.
So please, don’t be “that” person. Understand that we are all volunteers. Most of us work full-time jobs, many of us have kids, most of us have our own horses and farms to take care of, and just like you, we all have professional and personal commitments. We occasionally overlook an email or can’t immediately return a voicemail. Right or wrong, we take care of horses first, put out fires second, and respond to casual inquiries third.
Rather than be that "keyboard warrior," I would invite you to volunteer. We’ll have the pitchfork and muck bucket readily available, and there’s a load of hay begging to be hauled and unloaded. -EH
