Rebel Rescuer

So unless you’re really new to RR, you already know that I spend a good deal of time, money, effort, and sanity rescuing dogs.  Like the Peace Corps, it really IS the toughest job you’ll ever love.  In fact I believe it’s WAY more difficult than digging wells in Africa or building huts in the jungle.  If you don’t believe me, just ask the tiny gray hairs that are starting to sprout out of my 31 year-old head.

Sure, the Peace Corps is a great group that does wonders for those who are water-free, vaccine-free, and hut-free.  But how would they feel if they had to bring the residents of these unfortunate places home with them?  As in, “Welcome to my home!  Be sure to bark a lot, pee on the floor, eat my furniture, and never, ever tell me if you feel sick and are going to puke in my lap!”  Granted, I don’t have to hop a plane and indoor plumbing is always a treat.  But it ain’t easy when you can’t hop a plane back home and leave it all behind, either.

And of course, the Peace Corps couldn’t possibly have as much drama as we have in rescue.  Not even on Univision will you find the cattiness, bitchiness, back stabbing, self promotion, grittiness, and sheer obsessive/compulsive argumentativity that you see in rescue.  (Disclaimer – not everyone is like this….but that’s just because they’re new).  Its rarely dull, has more battles than the Civil War, and really shows just how angry a bunch of people with the same goals can be.  I mean, it amazes me sometimes when I stop and think that we’re all on the same side, but we feel compelled to dish out verbal bloody noses with rapid regularity.  But on the other hand, we’re a passionate and stubborn group. 

Recipe for a Rescue Brawl

1 heaping cup of stubborness

6 cups of policies and regulations

3 tsp of exhaustion

1 pound of chopped personalities

16 pounds of protectiveness

Put all ingredients in a chat room blender, mix well until mixture is volatile.  Pour onto a cookie sheet and bake at 350 until someone breaks out the F-Bomb.  Serve while hot.

Frankly, I’m pretty certain that we’d all get along pretty well if we didn’t try to keep things so PC.  I mean, we’re mainly Chicks with Tudes who throw ourselves into the rescue world.  And we all know that ANYTHING involving a bunch of chicks can turn ugly (ever work in an all-women office?!).  Add to that the fact that some of us are rebels who have opted to start our own rescues and you have a regular powder keg goin’ on.  I think it would do wonders if we fought like men…ya know slam each other with our chests, throw our arms up, say things like, “What’s your problem, a-hole?”….stuff like that.  We could duke it out, throw down, and get up and be done with it.  But as “civilized” women, we simply can’t do that!  After all, isn’t it so much nicer to carry on these war crimes for years through email and the “buddy system”?  Not really.  Instead we let it brew in our guts until one day, just like a volcano of estrogen, we let it fly.  But it seems that we NEVER let it ALL fly.  We always hold back, unwilling to “go there” and are still left with a hunk of lava burning in our stomachs…albeit a smaller hunk…but a hunk just the same, waiting for the next erruption.

But if anything positive comes out of these bitchfests, its the fact that people are talking (though usually trough gritted teeth) and anytime the word “rescue” is uttered, its a good thing.  There is no such thing as bad publicity, right?

I guess if I had a rescue-wish, it would be that more people were involved and helping.  Its an overwhelming job to run a rescue, and some of us are turn all glittery when we get new volunteers that are willing to shoulder some of it for us.  And glittery is always a good thing.

So if any of you are short on drama, have big hearts, and want to save a life…all while making it up as you go…PLEASE give us a shout!  We have just the recipe for you!  And indoor plumbing as well….