A scruffy cocker spaniel mix with soulful brown eyes lay curled on a flannel blanket, her four wriggling puppies nestled against her belly, nursing at her side. Kara smiled, recalling the afternoon the pregnant dog had been brought in and the relief she had felt that the little lady had given birth safely at the rescue—but this also meant that there were now four new puppies needing adoption.

Sighing, Kara stood and continued down the row.

Kara wondered if the rescue would make it to the next month—or, for that matter, if she would. The shortage of volunteers only exacerbated the problem. With fewer hands to help, Kara worked around the clock, her own health and well-being taking a backseat to the needs of the animals. The physical toll was evident in her aching muscles and the dark circles under her eyes, but it was the emotional strain that weighed heaviest.

Caught in an endless cycle of day-to-day crises, her fundraising efforts and strategic plans to move the rescue forward felt like distant dreams she could barely bring herself to think about, let alone implement. Being at full capacity meant more than just a lack of space for additional animals. It meant skyrocketing costs across the board. The food bill alone had doubled in the past month. Veterinary costs were spiraling out of control—routine check-ups, vaccinations, and unexpected emergencies had depleted their meager savings at an alarming rate. Even basic supplies like cleaning products and bedding were becoming luxuries they could scarcely afford.

The once-bustling adoption events had dwindled to sparsely attended gatherings. Potential fosters and adopters seemed few and far between. Even those who showed initial interest often hesitated when Kara outlined the true costs and resources required for proper animal care, their excitement dimming into uncomfortable silences and polite retreats as the reality of long-term commitment sank in.

What was she going to do?

Kara had exhausted every avenue, including reaching out to other rescues to see if they could take some of her animals—even temporarily—but that lifeline had dried up as well. Her inbox was a graveyard of well-meaning rejections. Just this morning, she’d received an email from Loving Hands Rescue in the next town over, confirming that they were also at capacity. It was the same story with Paw Pals last week, and Hopeful Hearts the week before that. Even Whisker Wishes, two counties away, had turned her down last month. Full kennels, strained budgets, and overworked staff—it was the same story everywhere she turned. The pattern was clear: Every rescue in the area was facing the same uphill battle, leaving Kara with the unsettling truth that help wasn’t coming.

Why were there so many animals in need of a home right now?

Maybe it was time to expand—but how?

Second Chance Rescue didn’t have a steady influx of cash; they couldn’t set up more housing.

Kara wracked her brain for potential solutions, no matter how unpleasant. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Her mind drifted to her father, and for a moment, she considered asking him for help again.No way. Not now. Never again.

She could already hear his disapproving tone.

“Kara, when are you going to realize that playing Noah’s Ark isn’t going to pay the bills?”

“If you’d taken over the pharmacy, you wouldn’t be drowning now.”

“I built our family business. You’re running a petting zoo.”

The thought of facing his criticism now, when she was at her lowest point, made her stomach churn. She would figure this out on her own.

Grabbing a broom off the wall hook, Kara began sweeping the concrete walkway between the kennels, wincing at the accumulated fur and debris.

A bark erupted from the far end, followed by a splash. Kara rushed over to find Finn, Labrador mix, had knocked over his water bowl, creating a puddle that began to seep into neighboring kennels. As she mopped, the unmistakable smell of diarrhea wafted from another section. Kara groaned, steeling herself for the mess awaiting her. Hurrying to grab cleaning supplies, she was stopped short by an ear-splitting whine. She turned to see Max, the anxious husky, frantically pawing at his kennel door. To her horror, the latch was bending and could break at any moment.

One more disaster, she thought, and she might just lose it completely.

An hour later, Kara found herself back where she started, broom in hand. She’d managed to clean up the messes, calm Max, and reinforce his kennel latch.

With the sweeping finally complete, Kara moved on to the next task, changing out the bedding in each of the kennels. As she worked, her mind wandered back to her predicament.

Something’s gotta give.

As she approached the last kennel at the end of the row, her eyes fell on the faded name tag affixed to the gate.Benny—the name belonging to a grizzled miniature schnauzer whose graying muzzle and world-weary eyes marked him as one of Second Chance Animal Rescue’s most tenured residents. He had been overlooked at adoption events time and time again; mostly because of his age, Kara assumed, and that he was much slower these days, with the stiffness in his back legs giving him a little limp when he walked.

Kara stepped inside the kennel and closed the gate behind her. “Hey there, Benny,” she whispered.

Benny stood from his blanket, stretching out his front paws as he took a few steps toward Kara, his tail wagging as she reached down to stroke his wiry hair. Once a rich salt-and-pepper, twelve years had softened Benny’s distinctive schnauzer coat to a silvery-gray, lending him an air of quiet dignity and hard-earned wisdom.

“How are you doing, boy? Get a good nap in?” Kara’s fingers found that perfect spot behind Benny’s ear, and she grinned as his back leg thumped against the floor. “You’re such a sweetheart, Benny. Don’t you worry, we’ll find someone who appreciates a distinguished gentleman like you.”

He let out a whimper and closed his eyes.

Kara patted Benny’s head. “I know, sweet boy. It won’t always be this way. For now, let’s get you a fresh blanket, okay?”

She laid out the fresh blanket, smoothing it with her hands. “There we go. All nice and clean.” Reaching into her pocket, she grinned. “Look what I’ve got.” She offered Benny two Riley’s Recipe treats, which he devoured, his eyes brightening with a spark of his younger self.

Kara gave Benny one last scratch behind the ear. “Okay, buddy, you get some rest now. We’ll go for a walk later, and in the meantime, I’ll keep working on finding you the perfect home. Sound good?”