If you were to climb into a time machine and head back ten years, where would you find me? In filthy, tattered coveralls, covered from head to toe in dirt and gunk, volunteering full time at one of the biggest shelters in the world {the Refugio Franciscano} in one of the biggest cities in the world, Mexico City.

I was between undergraduate and vet school. Looking to volunteer and continue my animal advocacy, but wanted to travel and be abroad and utilize my Spanish skills.

It took me approximately 2 minutes to become totally overwhelmed. I began volunteering 7 days a week, all day, trying to help. To get there, I would take two subway lines and then a bus and travel over an hour each way, during which time I would bear witness to tons of suffering, starving, diseased animals on the streets of Mexico City.

It was depressing at the shelter. Depressing outside the shelter. There was no reprieve. None of the usual resources or animal welfare agencies to help. The situation was absolutely awful and so immense it was hard to comprehend.

I remember one day in particular I arrived at the Refugio and it had been raining all day. I arrived to find out that one of my favorite dogs, Serafin – a large, strapping Shephard mix, had been killed in a dog fight. I spent the day shlepping around doing my work in the rain and the muck, and then ended it as I always did, at the make-shift infirmary where the sick and injured animals were kept.

My heart sunk as I entered the infirmary and realized that Chacha, another one of my favorite dogs, a darling little scruffy terrier, was in one of the cages. Sick, depressed, and utterly pathetic. The Refugio did not have the resources to treat animals aggressively with veterinary care so I knew that in most cases, illness meant death.

I remember sitting down on the floor of the Refugio and looking all around me. Looking outside to the thousands of dogs swarming about in the rain,trying, in vain,  to find a dry spot;  looking at sad Chacha’s face pressed against the cold metal of the cage;looking down at myself, covered in mud and excrement and sopping wet from the rain — and the enormity of the problem hit me with a physical force that literally felt so powerful I was unable to move.

So, I just sat there.

I sat there and wondered what the hell I was doing there. What was I supposed to do? What could I do? Given the magnitude of the suffering I was facing and the seemingly insurmountable crisis facing the animals, what in the world could anyone do?

So, I did nothing.

I just sat there.

I continued to sit there and sit there and a good 15 minutes must have passed before suddenly, without even realizing what I was doing, I was up.

I was up and I was moving toward’s Chacha’s cage and I was opening her cage and I was taking her out of the cage and I was taking her out of the Refugio. I brought her to a local veterinarian and got her immediate veterinary care and ultimately adopted her out into a loving home.

I did the one thing I could do at that moment, which was the impetus for unthinkable action to come.

Myself, and the man who would ultimately become my husband, Moncho Camblor,  started rescuing more dogs like Chacha, one by one, until suddenly we were rescuing hundreds upon hundreds, and now it is ten years later and we have saved well over a thousand lives just like her.

Then we started massive spay/neuter events and projects. Then humane education. Then humane euthanasia. Then veterinary training. Then working with low-income Latinos on both sides of the border. Then rescuing dogs in need from the Central Valley.

Compassion without Borders has evolved over the past decade into an organization that I am so proud to have brought into existence. Our accomplishments as a grassroots, nearly all-volunteer group are truly amazing.

Yet, even ten years later, I remember exactly what it felt like to  sit on that floor, in the rain, on that grey afternoon. It was  literally my own personal crossroads: I could choose to sink into the paralyzing stranglehold of despair or I could choose to muster up every ounce of courage and particle of hope in my being and get back up.

I am grateful every day that I did get back up and continually amazed by the momentum that single action created.

Help keep that momentum going, take action yourself.

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