Loving animals is a gift—but sometimes, it comes at a cost.
As caregivers, healers, rescuers, and animal lovers, we pour our hearts into the animals who need us. We soothe their fears, tend to their wounds, and offer them love—sometimes at the expense of our own well-being.
I know this feeling well.
I remember sitting with my beoved cat, Duchess, during her final days. She had advanced cancer, and watching her struggle took an emotional toll on me. Every breath she took seemed labored, and I was desperate to bring her comfort.
One day, as I prepared to give her a Scalar wave healing session, she did something unexpected. She looked me straight in the eyes, let out a small sigh, and refused to settle in—until I gave up and started working with my own energies.
She insisted that I start with myself.
So, I did. I took deep breaths, placed my hands over my heart, and let the healing flow to me first.
And then, something shifted.
As I relaxed, Duchess relaxed. As my body released tension, hers did, too. She started breathing more easily, her body softened, and she curled up beside me in peace.
That moment changed everything for me. It showed me that true healing begins with us.
But as animal caregivers, how often do we forget this?
Compassion fatigue is the exhaustion that comes from continuously caring for others, often at the expense of ourselves.
For those of us who work closely with animals—whether professionally or personally—it’s easy to ignore our own needs. We tell ourselves, “They need me more than I need rest.” We push through exhaustion, believing that love alone will sustain us.
But as time passes, the cracks begin to show.
–Physical signs: Chronic illnesses, fatigue, body ache and more.
–Emotional signs: Irritability, anxiety, feeling detached or numb.
–Behavioral signs: Avoiding responsibilities, loss of motivation, self-criticism.
Ignoring these signs doesn’t make them disappear. Instead, they deepen, slowly chipping away at our health, our joy, and even our ability to care for the animals we love.
I have a friend who runs a rather sizable rescue shelter. She is always on the ground—feeding, cleaning, rescuing. She works from dawn until late at night, never taking a break.
At first glance, she seems unstoppable. But I have seen her progress over the years and the damage that has happened to herself because her body can no longer bear the load. She is now struggling with chronic back pain, high blood pressure, overwhelming fatigue, and insomnia.
Emotionally, she has started losing patience. The anger and frustration she had kept bottled up has started to spill over onto her loved ones.
And this is what she says, “I love these animals, but I don’t feel like myself anymore. I feel like I’m running on empty.”
This is the paradox of overgiving. The more we neglect ourselves, the less we have to give. In the end, the animals lose, too.
So, how do we break the cycle? How do we care for animals without sacrificing ourselves in the process?
For years, I had a ritual—a promise I made to myself. Once a year, I would step away from everything and take a one-month retreat. It wasn’t easy. In fact, every time I packed my bags, a knot would form in my stomach.
My cats—my heart, my world—would watch me with curious eyes as I gathered my things. They didn’t know what “retreat” meant. They only knew that suitcases meant change. And change, to them, wasn’t always welcome.
The night before I left, I would sit with them, one by one, running my fingers through their fur, whispering words only they could understand. I would look into their eyes and say:
“I am not leaving because I love you less. I am leaving because I want to love you even better.”
And I meant it.
Because I knew that if I kept pushing myself if I kept giving without replenishing, there would come a day when my love would start to feel like an obligation. A day when my patience would wear thin when exhaustion would replace tenderness when I would be physically present but emotionally absent.
I never wanted to reach that day.
So, I would walk out the door—aching, guilty, but knowing in my bones that this was the right thing to do. And every time I returned, something beautiful happened.
They would greet me, their paws pressing into my lap as if to say, “You’re back. We knew you would be.” And I would hold them, knowing that I had come back not just as their guardian but as someone whole. Someone who could love them with renewed energy, presence, and devotion.
Taking that time for myself wasn’t a betrayal of our bond. It was a way of honoring it.
Because the truth is, when we love deeply, we must also care deeply for ourselves. Only then can we love fully, without resentment, without depletion, without losing ourselves in the process.
And that’s what I want every caregiver to remember: Taking care of yourself is taking care of them.
Physical Care: Move your body! Walk, dance, do yoga, practice Qigong—whatever brings you joy. Nourish yourself with good food, hydration, and proper sleep.
Emotional Care: Journal your feelings, practice gratitude, and use EFT tapping to release stress. Set boundaries—say no when you need to.
Holistic Support: Meditate, practice Reiki, or simply allow yourself to pause and breathe. And yes, sometimes, a long bath or a spa treatment is exactly what you need.
When to Seek Help: If you feel overwhelmed, reach out. When you ask for help, you do so from a position of strength. It is ok to allow yourself to be helped by someone – a therapist, an energy healer, or a community that nourishes you.
Here’s a simple Reiki meditation to get you started. This creates a healing space both for you and your beloved animals.
Duchess taught me that healing is a two-way street. The energy we bring into the space—whether it’s exhaustion or peace—affects the animals we care for.
The greatest gift you can give them is a version of you that is rested, present, and full of love.
So today, I invite you to pause. To breathe. Ask yourself: What do I need?
And then, give yourself the same kindness you so freely give to the animals.
Because when you heal, they heal, too.
Would you like me to help you with your animal companion? Book a discovery call.
I hope you enjoyed reading this post. If you want me to help you with your animal companion, just book a discovery call.
