The Puppy I Ignored & The Guilt I Can't Escape
The Miracle of Ozzy and Casey
Ozzy and Casey shouldn’t be here. By all accounts, their lives should have ended before they had even begun. And yet, today, they run and play as though the past never touched them. Ozzy darting with quick, bright eyes, and Casey bounding forward with three legs as if he never lost the fourth.
Watching them together is nothing short of a miracle. They survived the unthinkable, and their joy is living proof that rescue matters.
Ozzy’s Fight for Life
The first to come into our lives was Ozzy. She was just a fragile puppy, but her little body carried the devastation of 40% burns.
She had been taken to a vet who wanted to discharge her with nothing more than a tube of cream. No real treatment. No chance of survival.
If she hadn’t come to us, Ozzy would have passed away. Instead, with proper care she survived.
Casey’s Struggle
Not long after, Casey, Ozzy’s brother, arrived. His condition was heart breaking. He too was covered in burns, and a deep wound tore across his abdomen.
The burns on his leg were so severe that they had burned down to the bone, leaving no option but amputation. Like Ozzy, he was given the chance to live. He survived & thrived.
The Sister I Ignored
In Casey’s video, there was another. Their sister. She had mange, but otherwise, she appeared healthy. And so I didn’t interfere, these dogs were not under my care.
I convinced myself she wasn’t in immediate danger. I knew there were others who needed help more urgently. I looked away.
A Family Torn Apart
Then came another cruelty: the puppies’ mother was poisoned. Soon after, the little sister the one I had dismissed as “healthy enough” fell sick.
She was diagnosed with parvo and passed away suddenly, shortly after arriving at a local clinic.
The Moment Everything Crashed
When I heard she was gone, my world stopped. The grief hit me like a physical blow. I am crying as I write this now. My chest tightened, my throat burned, and my thoughts raced back to that moment in the video, the moment I saw her and chose not to act. The truth was unbearable: I had seen her. I could have done something. And I didn’t.
The Guilt I Carry
Since that day, I have lived with the weight of this. I saved Ozzy. I saved Casey. But I didn’t save her. Every time I close my eyes, I see her face. Every time I think of her, I hear the voice in my head whispering: She died because you did nothing.
People tell me, “You can’t save them all.” Maybe they are right. But that doesn’t quiet the storm inside me. It doesn’t silence the guilt. I feel like a murderer because in choosing not to act, I let her down. I abandoned her to a fate she should never have faced & I am ashamed of myself.
When I See Them Play
Today, Ozzy and Casey are so very happy. They run, they stumble clumsily, they chase each other with the reckless joy that only puppies know. When I watch them, my heart swells with pride and relief, I see survivors.
And yet, behind that joy, there is always a shadow. Because when I see them play together, I see the empty space where their sister should be. Every wag of a tail, every playful bark is a reminder that she will never have those moments. She will never tumble in the grass with them. She will never know the safety that I gave to her siblings but withheld from her.
It is like watching a play with a missing character, the absence is loud, deafening even. Their happiness only magnifies my guilt, because it proves what could have been. If I had stepped in, she too could have been here. She too could have known life.
The Haunting
There is no comfort in this. No neat lesson. Just the truth of rescue work: for every life saved, there are others who are lost. Her death haunts me, and it always will. There is no escape from it, no excuse from my inaction.
Her story may have been short, but it matters. She mattered. And I will carry the weight of her loss with me for the rest of my life. She is & always will be the dog I failed. And I hate myself for that






So I want to be practical and honest because I know this pain is so personal. The world of rescue is shit because the world has too many people who are cruel, or who don't care about animals or who convince themselves there is nothing they can do because the problem too big, so just enjoy the live their own animals give. Then there are rescuers and animal advocates who try their best to manage to help, one animal at a time, one dog and another .... And there are those of us who support them, imperfectly. But despite the overwhelming odds you, Michelle, find a way, because you are indomitable, a force of nature, at much personal cost. The guilt is horrible, but don't let it become dominant. You are strong. Let that pup's star shine through the work for others. You know deep down, that you cannot save every dog, as much as you wish you could. Because of the many people who are cruel or won't help (when they could). But you have to keep your energy for good. Guilt can eat away, reduce your hope, steal your energy.. Use it for good because you will have to prioritise the most needy, because they have the least chance in a very unfair world. That's why those terrible choices are made, not because they should be. But that isn't only your burden. It belongs to us all.