08/26/2026
Today I spoke with Gary, a reporter, about why I walked away from Every Dog Matters – Alberta — and why I came back.
It wasn’t just the five abandoned dogs in High Level.
High Level may have been the situation that finally pushed me over the edge, but the weight had been building for a long time.
It is the never-ending pleas for help.
Every. Single. Day.
“Can you help this dog?”
“This dog needs to be gone by tomorrow.”
“We have nowhere for him to go.”
“She needs emergency veterinary care.”
“They’re going to euthanize him.”
“This dog has been abandoned.”
“This dog is being abused.”
“There are puppies out here.”
“The rescue is full.”
“The shelter can’t take them.”
“The owner is desperate.”
“Who can drive?”
“Who can foster?”
“Who can pay the vet?”
“Who can PLEASE help?”
And behind every message is a living animal.
That’s the part I can’t shut off.
You can put your phone down.
You can close Facebook.
But once you’ve seen or heard about that dog, you know they’re out there.
And sometimes you know that if nobody steps up, you already know how that story may end.
So you start calling.
Messaging.
Begging rescues that are already drowning.
Searching for fosters.
Finding transportation.
Trying to raise money.
Calling veterinarians.
Contacting authorities.
Sharing posts.
Trying to connect one desperate person with another exhausted person who might somehow have room for just one more.
Then another message comes in.
And another.
And another.
There is no finish line.
The five High Level dogs became a massive undertaking. They were abandoned, difficult to capture and hundreds of kilometres away. People fed them, travelled for them, donated, transported and ultimately helped get all five to safety.
I sought official assistance during that situation and was told Animal Protection didn’t have the resources to deal with it.
And I kept coming back to one question:
Then who does?
Because saying there aren’t resources doesn’t make an abandoned dog disappear.
Somebody still has to show up.
And far too often, that “somebody” is an exhausted volunteer, rescuer, advocate or ordinary person with a vehicle, a credit card and a conscience.
High Level eventually became surrounded by disagreements, accusations and public attacks.
I won’t pretend I did everything perfectly.
I didn’t.
I have regrets.
I trusted conversations when I should have documented everything.
I should have had clearer agreements and boundaries.
I took on too much.
And I allowed myself to become financially, physically and emotionally consumed by trying to help.
Those lessons are mine to own.
But High Level wasn’t what exhausted me.
High Level was what finally broke me.
It was every dog before them.
Every urgent rehoming.
Every medical emergency.
Every abandoned animal.
Every cruelty report.
Every desperate owner.
Every overcrowded rescue.
Every person saying, “I don’t know who else to call.”
And every time I couldn’t help, I carried that too.
Eventually I couldn’t carry anymore.
So I shut Every Dog Matters down.
For a moment, I thought I was finished.
Then the pleas kept coming.
Of course they did.
Because the dogs didn’t know I’d quit.
Animal cruelty didn’t stop.
Dogs didn’t stop being abandoned.
Owners didn’t stop becoming desperate.
Rescues didn’t suddenly have empty kennels.
The system didn’t suddenly acquire the resources it desperately needs.
Nothing changed because I walked away — except there was one less person trying to help.
And that realization hurt.
A lot of people who dedicate themselves to animals have been through something themselves.
Maybe that’s why some of us recognize the forgotten ones so quickly.
Maybe we know something about being scared.
Being misunderstood.
Being discarded.
Or needing somebody to show up.
Whatever the reason, there are people who simply cannot look away when an animal is suffering.
But those people are human too.
They burn out.
They make mistakes.
They run out of money.
They get overwhelmed.
And sometimes the very community that should be holding each other up becomes another source of damage.
Accountability matters.
Transparency matters.
Questions should be asked.
Mistakes should be acknowledged.
But cruelty toward another human being doesn’t become acceptable simply because you’re fighting against cruelty toward animals.
So yes, I walked away.
And today, I’m back…..
Not because everything suddenly stopped hurting. Or problems have been resolved.
Or I’ve forgotten all the slanderous lies.
And definitely not because I’ve forgiven.
I’m back because I remembered what Every Dog Matters was supposed to be about.
Not me.
Not Facebook.
Not rescue politics.
The dogs.
Going forward, things will be different.
Better documentation. Clearer boundaries. Greater transparency. Defined responsibilities. And an understanding that I cannot personally carry every dog that comes across my screen.
But I can keep speaking.
I can keep connecting people.
I can keep asking uncomfortable questions.
I can keep pushing governments and organizations to address the gaps.
And I can keep bringing attention to the animals who would otherwise be invisible.
Because Alberta doesn’t just have a five-dog problem.
We have a capacity problem.
A resource problem.
An abandonment problem.
A cruelty problem.
A veterinary-access problem.
And we have burnt out volunteers and rescues being asked to hold together a system that is stretched beyond its limits.
That is the story I want told.
High Level didn’t create the problem.
It showed me just how deep the problem already was.
I stepped away because I had nothing left.
I came back because unfortunately, neither do far too many of these dogs.
I can’t turn off what my soul tells me I need to do …
Every Dog Matters.
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