This is well worth the time to read:

 

THE FOUR STAGES OF ANIMAL RESCUE

 

PHASES

Those of us who work on behalf of and who dedicate our lives to animals go through four phases in our career evolution. As we are unique, so are our individual stories, but we all go through a similar process and, if we survive that process, go on to understand that we wanted to be here in the first place.

 

PHASE ONE

Red hot and raring to go, we are out to change the world. We are high on life. We know we can make a difference, that our efforts on behalf of animals will ease their plight. We work what seems like 25 hour days yet are energized. Our enthusiasm overflows, our capacity for challenge is limitless. We eat, sleep and live in the cause for animals. Our friends don't understand our obsession and turn away or just fade away, and we let them for we meet new ones. Some of us, though, don't make new friends; we're too busy working for animals. Some of us become loners with only our canine or feline companions to keep us from total isolation. We're content because we have a cause. In our zeal, we tend to affix simple solutions to complex problems, that every animal should be sterilized or that no animal should be euthanized, we are late to appointments because we try to rescue animals from highways and streets. We think we understand the problem and we know we can fix it if only people would get out of our way.

 

PHASE TWO

Our Phase One enthusiasm has turned sour, the bubble has burst and we crash and burn. We see the same people coming into the Shelter with yet another litter--they haven't heard our message. We continue to euthanize, there seems to be no end to it. Even our friends, those we have left, don't understand us. We can't seem to reach anyone. Animals are still abused and neglected, their plight seems unchanged despite all our efforts. We have lost the boundless energy that characterizes Phase One. We have become horrified by the work we have to do. Even our dreams are filled with the horror. Every animal we take in, every animal we euthanize is yet another nail in our coffin of defeat. Somehow, we are to blame for our failure and it is destroying us. We raise an emotional shield to protect ourselves. Our shield gets thicker and thicker. It blocks the pain and sadness and makes our life somehow tolerable. We continue on because every now and then we get a spark of Phase One energy.

 

PHASE THREE

In this phase, our Phase Two depression has turned outward and we're mad as hell. Hopelessness turns to rage. We begin to hate people, any people, and all people unless, like our coworkers, they dedicate their lives to animals the way we do. We even hate our coworkers if they dare to question us, especially about euthanasia. It occurs to us to euthanize the owners, not the pets. Let's take everyone who abuses (or even surrenders) animals and euthanize them instead. Our rage expands to our out-of-work life. That guy in front of us on the highway, the one who is in our way, euthanize him. We rage at politicians, television, newspapers, our family. Everyone is a target for our anger, scorn and derision. We have lost our perspective and our effectiveness. We are unable to connect with life. Even the animals with whom we come into contact seem distant and unreal. Anger is the only bridge to our humanness. It is the only thing that penetrates our shield.

 

PHASE FOUR

Gradually, and over time, the depression of Phase Two and the anger of Phase Three become replaced with a new determination and understanding of what our mission really is. It is "big picture time." We realize that we have been effective locally and, in some cases, even regionally and nationally. So, we haven't solved the problems. Who could?

 

But, we have made a difference for dozens, even hundreds and sometimes thousands of animals. We have changed the way others around us view animals. We begin to see our proper place in our own community and we begin to see that we are most effective when we balance our work and away-from-work lives. We realize that work is not our whole world and that if we pay attention to our personal lives, we can be more effective at work. We understand that some days we work 14 hours and some days we knock off after only 8 hours. We take vacations and we enjoy our weekends. We come back refreshed and ready to take on daily challenges.

 

We see that all people are not all bad. We understand that ignorance is, in most cases, curable. Yes, there are truly awful people who abuse and neglect animals, but they are in the minority. We don't hate them. When we find them, we do all we can to stop them from hurting animals. We recognize that the solutions are just as complex as the problems and bring a multitude of tools to the problems at hand. We use them any way we can, and begin to see the results one small step at a time. We reconnect with the animals. Our shields come down.

 

We understand that sadness and pain are a part of our job. We stop stuffing our feelings with drugs, food or isolation. We begin to understand that our feelings of anger, depression and sadness are best dealt with if we recognize them and allow them to wash over and past us.

 

We recognize our incredible potential to help animals.

 

We ARE changing the world. Some people seem to get frozen in Phase One (the zealots), or in Phase Two (the zombies) or in Phase Three (the misanthropes -- haters or distrusters of mankind). Others shift back and forth.

 

Many leave animal work during Phase Two or Phase Three, never to return. Some seem to move rapidly to Phase Four, while for others it takes years.

 

Some never get a sense of peace to go along with our purpose; they work their entire career on the frantic pink cloud of Phase One, or depressed or angry.

 

I have been in all four phases in my 26 years in animal protection. Can the journey from Phase One to Phase Four be sped up? Can we avoid the pain, discomfort and agony that go with the journey? I wish I knew.

 

By Douglas Fakkema

(reprinted from the "Mazer Report")