Honestly about our limits
Why we sometimes say "we can't take them"
We currently care for 77 dogs and 80 cats. That's not an abstraction or a number for a report — it's the daily work of two people, scheduled hour by hour. Here we explain what "no space" actually means, and what can be done if an animal needs help today.
People write to us every day. Most of them care: they found puppies in a cardboard box by a shop, a kitten in a basement, a dog on the roadside. These are decent people. So when we answer "we can't take them right now," it sounds strange — you have a whole place out there, surely one small puppy will fit?
Usually we say no for two reasons at once: there's no free space to take a new animal, and no time to care for one the way it needs. Below is how that works — honestly and without reproach.
Space is not territory
When people hear "no space," they picture the yard and the enclosures. And it's true: there's almost always a free metre out there. But space in a refuge isn't measured in square metres.
Space is three resources at once
a free quarantine box + free hands + a free veterinary budget
If any one of the three is missing, there is no space. An empty yard is irrelevant.
Quarantine
Every new animal is a potential infection for the 157 already in our care. Parvovirus, distemper, panleukopenia, ringworm, worms, ticks. An animal can look perfectly healthy and still be incubating. One un-quarantined animal can kill dozens.
Quarantine isn't "a carrier in the corner." It's a separate room, separate bowls, separate cleaning equipment, separate footwear, a separate route: healthy animals first, quarantine last, never the other way round. Minimum 14–21 days. When the quarantine places are full, there is physically nowhere to put an animal — even if the yard is empty.
Hands
There are two of us. Feeding, washing bowls, cleaning enclosures and litter trays, parasite treatments, medication on schedule, vet trips, post-op care, photos and write-ups for rehoming, correspondence with potential families, home checks, paperwork, supplies, repairs.
There are 24 hours in a day, and they're already allocated. Each new animal isn't "one more bowl" — it's another slot in a schedule that has none.
Money
Food, vaccines, treatments, tests, surgery, medication. This isn't "a little bit more" — it's a fixed monthly sum per animal, and it doesn't go away until that animal leaves for a family. Which may take a year.
We can take exactly as many animals as we can feed and treat to the end. Taking more isn't mercy — it's a decision made at the expense of those we've already taken.
Nobody funds us
Not the state, not international foundations, not grants, not any other organisation. We receive no public money and have no standing donor. Everything here rests on two things: help from people who care, and our own resources.
So our "budget" isn't a line item that can be increased. It's whatever people transferred this month. Fewer transfers means less capacity to say yes.
What one puppy or kitten actually costs
This is the important part, because puppies and kittens are what people bring us most often — and they are the most expensive.
An ordinary day with a two-month-old
- 00:00
Warm the milk replacer or soak the food. Feed. Make sure it's eaten, not spilled. Wash up.
- 00:30
Clean. A youngster toilets many times more often than an adult: pad, bedding, floor.
- 03:00
Same again. Yes, at night. It can't be skipped — blood sugar drops fast in the young.
- 06:00
Feeding. Check the temperature in the box: the young can't regulate body heat, they need a separate warm space with temperature control.
- 09:00
Feeding and a check-over: eyes, nose, stool, appetite, weight. The young get sick fast — things change within hours.
- 12:00
Feeding. Socialisation: hands, sounds, other animals, toilet and lead training.
- 15:00
Feeding, cleaning, laundry.
- 18:00
Feeding. Parasite treatment or medication if scheduled.
- 21:00
Feeding. Settling for the night.
Five to six feeds in 24 hours, night feeds included, and cleaning after each one. Plus vaccination on schedule: first shot, booster three weeks later, then rabies. Deworming every 2–3 weeks.
And that's the version where everything goes well. When it doesn't, it looks different: what an adult dog shrugs off in a day can kill a kitten. A night drive to the vet, IV fluids, syringe feeding every hour, a round-the-clock watch by the box. Sometimes for days. Sometimes without success.
One more thing: without socialisation and training, you get an animal nobody will take. A youngster there was "no time for" becomes, a year later, an adult dog who stays with us for good.
One puppy or kitten takes more time than ten adult animals. Not "five extra minutes a day." And it's the young ones people bring us most.
The maths
A few numbers, so this doesn't stay at the level of feelings.
- 157
- animals in our care right now
- 247
- animals have already found their family
- 4 412
- sterilisations — ours and through the family assistance programme
Why one more animal is a risk to all of them
A refuge isn't a house where the animal count simply goes up. It's a system with limited throughput: so many quarantine places, so many hands, so much money per month.
Overload it, and it isn't the new animal who suffers. Everyone does.
Cut quarantine short, and one infection sweeps through. Stretch the hands, and someone's medication is late. Stretch the budget, and instead of a planned operation we're choosing who gets treated first.
That's why "just one more" isn't a neutral act. It's a decision we make not for ourselves, but on behalf of 157 animals who are already relying on us.
A new animal arrives when the previous one has gone home
Our goal isn't the largest possible number — it's decent conditions. A warm dry place, food on time, treatment, walks, hands and attention every day. That's what all of this is for.
Those conditions have a limit. The more animals there are, the less time, space and money each one gets — and the worse everyone lives, including those we've already taken in. Fewer animals in decent conditions is better than more animals in poor ones.
So we don't take animals "just in case." A new animal arrives when the previous one has found a family and freed up its space, its time and its budget. That's why the honest answer is often "not right now" — and why every rehoming directly saves the next animal.
What you can do right now
If we said "we can't take them," that isn't the end of the story. Here's what actually works, most effective first.
- 1
Try rehoming the animal yourself — we'll help
This isn't a brush-off. We'll show you how to take photos that work, how to write the listing, where to post it, what to ask someone who responds, and how to check the home. We'll also publish the listing on our own page so more people see it. Very often an animal finds a family within a week or two — and never enters a refuge at all.
- 2
Become a foster home
The animal lives with you; we cover the veterinary care and the search for a family. It's the most realistic way to save the specific animal you've found. Not forever — just until rehoming.
- 3
Pay for a sterilisation
One unsterilised female on the street means another 5–8 young in six months, and as many again a year later. Sterilisation is the only thing that reduces the number of homeless animals rather than moving it around.
- 4
Adopt from the refuge
That is the only way space opens up. Every animal who leaves for a family is, quite literally, our ability to say yes to the next one.
- 5
Support us financially
A free quarantine box and a full store of food are the ability to say yes next time.
- 6
Share
Sometimes a repost finds a family faster than we can. It's free, and it works.
Frequently asked
You're a refuge — aren't you obliged to take an animal?
We're an NGO and a home-based refuge, not a municipal service. We have neither an obligation to accept animals nor a budget for it. We take as many as we can feed and treat to the end.
You have a yard — why not put up one more kennel?
Because space isn't territory. It's a free quarantine box, free hands and free money. A kennel without quarantine, care and veterinary cover doesn't save an animal — it creates a risk for the rest.
I've found puppies. What do I do right now?
Write to us — we'll walk you through it: how to check the youngsters over, what to feed them in the first days, how to take photos and write the listing, where to post it. We'll publish the listing on our page too. If you can keep them as a foster home, the odds of finding a family go up several times over.
Who funds you?
Nobody. Not the state, not international foundations, not grants, not other organisations. We work on donations from people who care, and on our own resources. So our ability to say yes depends directly on how much help arrived this month.
How long does an animal stay with you before rehoming?
It varies: from a few weeks to a few years. The young go quickly; adults and black dogs take the longest. That's why space frees up so slowly.
Finally
We don't say no because we don't want to. We say no because we want the 157 animals already in our care to live to meet their families — healthy, socialised, and not at each other's expense.
There's no state, no foundation and no sponsor behind us. There are people — those who transfer money, bring food, foster, adopt. So every yes we manage was paid for by someone: by a quarantine box that freed up, a bag of food, a foster home, a sterilisation that stopped another litter being born on the street.
If you'd like the answer to be yes next time — this is what that's made of.