Recently my wife and I had the pleasure of adding Logan to our family. He is a rescue from the Bernese Auction Rescue Coalition, Inc. It is a wonderful non-profit organization dedicated to rescuing and rehabilitating Bernese Mountain Dogs from dog brokers, dog auctions, puppy mills, and any other dangerous, exploitative or abusive situation.

The folks associated with BARC are some of the most passionate, loving people you will ever meet. They are the type of people you come across in your life that are making a difference in the world. Their efforts make you ask yourself, “How can I do more?”

Such was the feeling when I read the following account of “A Day in the Life of a Rescuer” by E.S. Everitt. It is the heartbreaking tale of a typical ‘auction’ day and what goes through one rescuer’s mind as attempts are made to help as many dogs as possible.

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A RESCUER
E.S. EVERITT

I rise at 4 a.m., get coffee, check supplies, and leave by 5. I drive alone, my van full of empty crates. As I drive through the cold dark morning, my only company is the churning of my emotions. Hope that most of the crates will be full of dogs on the way home. Anger than anyone could bring puppies into this world with no plan other than a quick profit. Sorrow that companion animals are viewed as, even legally classified as livestock, rather than the family members they should be. And fear that I will fail them.

I know that I will fail some of them. I cannot save them all. Neither I nor my organization have the money, the manpower, the political clout or enough other resources to remove all of them from harm. But we will keep trying, because we can and because we have to. We can at least save some, give them the gift of love and family and future.

I don’t want to go. I have been on a roller coaster all week, distracted and angry and so grateful to all the others who help these innocent creatures. I read again some of writings from one of the Web rescue sites and am almost reduced to tears.

But I don’t have time to weep. I pull in to the auction site, park in the pasture and scan the vehicles, perhaps hoping that it’s been called off, or that some agency has swooped in and shut down the auction, taking all of the dogs to rescue, to safety. But no such luck. So I go in to get registered, grab a catalog, and go see the dogs.

The stench slaps at me the moment I walk into the building. As dog auctions go, this is supposedly clean and well run, but in two days they are running more than 500 dogs through the selling floor, some of them healthy, some of them not — the stack cages and the kennels are full. High school age kids rinse kennels with the hose and squeegee waste into the canal that runs along the floor.

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