Rescue Skills

It takes a certain amount of talent to go rescue a baby beardie and come back with a juvenile box turtle too.

I wonder how I'd list that on my resume? 

More details on next posts. 

Limitations

There's a fine line between feeling confident in my ability to help sickly animals and assuming I'm a superhuman that can save them all. 

Some days I feel like a superhero rescuer. Cue the music! Sarah to the rescue! 

Some nights, like tonight, I am far less confident. Baby Dragon threw up tonight. He's been doing so good. My head is racing with a million questions-- what's wrong? What am I doing wrong? Is he not going to make it? What's happening? 

I have to remind myself that I canNOT save them all. Some are too broken, too diseased, too far gone to be pulled back. 

GAWK!!!! 

I hate it when they die. I hate the sadness in my heart and the questioning that happens. I hate the "What If" questions that play in my head. 

So there's also a fine line to walk between cocky and confident, between all powerful and limited. Despite my very best efforts, some rescues still die. Some still won't be happy; some still will be stressed. I can only do what I can do even when that's not enough. 

Carrying the ownership of every critters' success has its moments of choking me. I don't want the people & critters in my home to be sad or unhappy-- with the exception of Junie. I accept the fact that Junie is a brat and that will never change. He's happy when I leave him alone. 

Anyways-- rescue is a hard & rewarding business. Some days you feel like a superhero and some days you feel like a janitor forced to clean up other people's messes. Somehow along the way you hopefully figure out how to enjoy the ride. 

Just my musings tonight. . . . . 

"Rescue" is Messy & Harsh Work

This is my "Rescue" blog. And I have a "Rescue" Facebook page. And the key word is "Rescue."

Rescue means taking in abused, neglected, sick, & dying reptiles. It means missing limbs & toes & tails. It means massive quantities of snot and stinky poop and blood. It means the odds are always stacked against me and death is always an option.

Rescue is NOT fun. It is not pretty. It is not cute and adorable. It is heartbreaking and shocking and disturbing.

Rescue is hard work. 

There are many many blogs & pages & groups out there that focus on cute animals, adorable reptiles, unique breeds, etc. You never have to worry about seeing blood or death or anything disturbing. Those are NOT "Rescue" pages.

If the harshness of rescue work is too much, I invite you to check out "Cuteness Overload" and similar websites. If the harshness of rescue work is too much, you are welcome to unfollow my blog and unlike my FB page.

But "Rescue" is my reality. So please don't fault me for showing what it is really like and not painting a rosy picture of sunshine and rainbows and happy endings. If that was "Rescue," then no one would need to do it.

Another Day in (Rescue) Paradise

MuShu keeps pooping blood and I can't get ahold of my vet. Bugsy sounds like a whoopee cushion when he breathes. Lil Foot pooped in the laundry room and then spread it into the kitchen. The baby tortoises won't eat their food because I added calcium to it. Turbo is grumpy and bobbing at Ginny who is shedding & arches her back like a two year when you pick her up. My dogs keep barking at the parade goers lining outer street so we can't let them out. I'm babysitting Ozzie this weekend and so half of my males are black bearding and posturing. Turbo pooped on my bathroom floor, got some on his tail, and then smeared it all across the floor and onto the carpet. 

Welcome to our crazy zoo! :)