The Days Nobody Sees

What a Day Running an Animal Sanctuary Can Actually Look Like

You can listen to me read this post using the player above.

I was meant to be writing something different today. I had plans to share a photo collection of the beautiful animal friendships forming at the Hen Haven, with stories about each one. Instead, I’m writing this at 10pm with Max the bunny hopping around beside me on the bed, but no friendship photos as I did not have time to take them.

But perhaps sharing what a day can look like here is just as important.

Today started with a juvenile rat trapped in the heavy-duty mesh grate underneath one of the coops. We use these grates for predator protection, to stop foxes digging under. I’m guessing the little rat used to be small enough to dart through the gaps. She wasn’t anymore. Her little body was twisted in an S shape, stuck through two squares of the mesh, and she was terrified.

It was already hot and she was in full sun. I can’t believe this heat in April! It’s meant to be Autumn.

I tried the handheld wire cutters first, but the mesh is heavy-duty metal. When I could get the cutters right next to her body, I’d use those, but they could barely get through it. For the sections further from her, I had to use the angle grinder, sparks flying just centimetres from her.

For 45 minutes, I alternated between the two, cutting her free bit by bit, terrified I’d hurt her, terrified she’d die of stress before I could finish. When I finally freed her, I honestly expected the worst. But after I’d set her up in a carrier with a blanket, some food and water and given her some dark, quiet time to destress, she was totally fine.

I, on the other hand, was absolutely done in.

And yesterday’s news was still rattling around in my head.

I found out that a grant we’d been really hoping for isn’t going to happen. It was a miscommunication, me getting my wires crossed, and nobody’s fault really. But it means we’re sitting on a stack of vet bills with no clear way to cover them.

This is the part of running a sanctuary that I find hardest to talk about.

Don’t get me wrong, losing someone or witnessing animal cruelty is always the hardest part, and nothing compares to that. But the thing I find hardest to talk about is the money. It’s having to constantly ask for help and feeling like you’re bothering people.

It’s that horrible, creeping feeling that you’ve somehow failed the animals.

It’s wondering, at age 42, whether I’ll still be doing this at 80, scrambling from one bill to the next.

I started NSW Hen Rescue in 2010. I really thought that by 2026, I’d have things on more sustainable footing. Our amazing regular donors (our hen heroes) and our new paid Substack subscribers cover the feed and water deliveries, and I can’t tell you how much that means. But the vet bills are a different beast entirely.

Which brings me to this afternoon. I had two girls booked in at the vet: Lydia and Valerie.

Lydia is an ex-battery hen who had a terrible time with reproductive disease when she came out of the cage last year. Her suprelorin implant saved her life, and she was due for a new one before it wore off.

These implants are one of the things people don’t always budget for when rescuing hens. When a hen stops laying, most people think she’s just having a break, or worse, they think she’s “useless” and get rid of her.

But often, something is going wrong inside. These girls have been selectively bred to lay far more eggs than their bodies can handle, and it takes a real toll. The implants help manage that, but they need to be renewed regularly, and they’re not cheap. It’s one of the reasons hen rescue is such an expensive rescue to run.

Valerie is a girl who was dumped by the side of a road in a box because she was no longer laying eggs. Valerie’s abdomen is swollen, so she was in for her implant today too.

While I was in the waiting room, I got chatting to a lovely older couple with a beautiful, young staffy. They told me her story. They’d recently found her in the middle of the road. Well I say found, they actually nearly ran over her.

When they tracked down her previous owners, the person said they didn’t really want her. So this couple, who had never planned on having a staffy, took her home. Her old name was Shadow, but she never responded to it, so they renamed her Lucky and now she wags her tail non-stop when they say her name.

The chat really made me smile because I could see how much love Lucky was being showered with now and how these people had welcomed her into their family. I love how they stopped and took action when so many would have kept driving.

But it was also a reminder that it’s not just chickens and rabbits who get discarded when people decide they’re inconvenient. It’s dogs and cats and horses and so many other animals that people treat as disposable.

When I got home, I was meant to sit down and work on my planned article. The friendship photo collection. The audio recordings. And then work on adding plants and perches to one of the rooster enclosures. Instead, my body made the decision for me. I lay down on the bed, and Max the bunny hopped up and pressed himself right into my face.

If you’ve never experienced bunny healing energy, I highly recommend it. It almost felt like magic radiating off him, soaking into all the parts of me that were depleted. I was asleep within minutes.

I really hope this doesn’t come across as a massive whinge. I’m writing it because I think it matters for people to see what a normal day at a sanctuary looks like. Not dramatic rescues or the cute photos (although here is a very cute photo of my bunny nurse).

Max the healing snuggle bunny

Not the triumphant “she’s safe now!” posts. But a day in April where it’s too hot for autumn, a rat needs saving, a grant falls through, two hens need expensive implants to stay alive, and the person trying to hold it all together falls asleep with a rabbit on her face even though there are a million jobs I should be doing.

I’m guessing all the stresses of the last week mounted up and took me down today, because really there was nothing more challenging about today than any other day. Occasionally our bodies just say, ‘nope, you won’t be doing all those tasks you need to do. You need to rest,’ and there is no fighting it. So that is what I did until 5pm when it was time to care for the animals again.

The animals still need feeding, and the vet bills don't pause just because I do.

The people that keep this place going are our hen heroes (regular donors) and our paid Substack subscribers. If you’ve ever thought about becoming either, days like today are exactly why it matters. And if you’re already one of them, thank you.

You are the reason Lydia and Valerie got their implants today.

And if neither of those is an option right now, that’s completely okay. Sharing this post, or just knowing you’re here reading it, means more than you might think.

Love Catherine x

P.S. Max is now in full of beans mode because it’s nighttime and he thinks I should stop writing and play. And those friendship photos? They’re coming soon, on a lighter day. I promise.