by Sue Burkhard

Yesterday I was ready to quit doing Animal Rescue & Adoption. I was tired. Tired of the hopelessness, the never ending flow, the anger, the personality conflicts and the egos. Tired of unproductive arguments about unimportant issues and minor details. I acknowledge I am not a people person. I relate better to myself then others. I am a straightforward, no nonsense speaker and I'm not afraid to speak my opinion even when its not popular. But, I'd rather be actually doing something then sitting around debating what should be done. Yesterday I was tired. I felt trampled, unappreciated, and battered.

Today I met Annie. Annie reminded me of what was really important in Animal Rescue and Adoption. Annie touched a piece of my heart I thought I had shut down and locked away 100 rescues ago. I looked into her deep, sad eyes and I wept.

I'm still not sure Annie will make it. Her prognosis is grim. And I wonder if she came into my life so I could save myself by saving her...to reconfirm my commitment to help those who are to weak to help themselves. Or did she come into my life to remind me that sometimes all I can do is my best, not knowing whether the outcome will be happy or sad, but refusing to fall prey to senseless conflicts that would have me do nothing at all.

Annie's story is similar to so many others I have seen before. Yet for some reason Annie is different. A poor pathetic shepherd mix. A young girl who should be at the prime of her life, but who is struggling for enough strength to hold her head up. A dog who should weigh an easy 60lbs and barely tips the scales at 30. A victim of many forms of abuse and neglect. First left to scavenge and roam on the streets, contracting a horrible disease (parvo) that most dogs don't survive. Lying down in a vacant lot in the heart of a poverty stricken ghetto. Only looking for a quiet place to try to make the pain go away, then falling victim to juvenile delinquints who figured to waste away their boredom on something more helpless then themselves. I wonder how much amusement they found in throwing bricks at this already tormented soul.

When I found her she couldn't stand. Lying in a pool of her own blood, raging with fever. As I picked her up and carried her to my car, memories started flowing. And as I sat and stroked her head, looking into her eyes and asking her if this was a battle she wanted to fight, I remembered other battles. Other souls. Some lost but so many more saved. And I delved deep into my emotions looking for perspective. Looking for balance and understanding. Trying to comprehend how pain and heartache could go hand in hand with hope and peace.

I thought of dogs I had lost. Most recently Ms. Britty and her lesson of time and I remembered that yesterday is gone. Tomorrow may not come. But today is here and happening now, and what I do with today is what matters. I thought about Niki and her lesson of the importance of showing your love today and not having to live with the regret of having not shown it tomorrow. I remembered Max. The last stray rescue I cried for as he died in my arms and the promises I made him. Then there was Journey the kitten who never knew love before she was rescued by caring rescue people. There was Miracle, who grew from a broken, battered, shadow into a beautiful girl thanks to a caring foster family with lots of love and patience. I thought of all the returns that tax the emotions of adoption groups, yet they are not cast aside and forgotton. All the volunteers who fight to help that one, even while knowing that dozens more are waiting in the shadows.

As I sat gazing into Annie's eyes I remembered we are all human. No matter what our role in Animal Rescue and Adoption. We will never achieve the perfect, unconditional love of self and those around us, that those animals we save have. But somehow we find the strength and inspiration to continue to try. And sometimes that inspiration comes in the battered, pathetic form of a furry angel.

And what we do really does matter. Whether Annie lives or dies, it still mattered to Annie that someone cared enough to try and loved enough to cry. It matters to her. And now I remember...It matters to me.