Is it just a Cup of Coffee?

I’ve been working on a project for the past year, which has taken me all over South Africa. Shelter to shelter. Province to province. Gravel roads, early mornings, long days, heavy conversations. Seeing what animal welfare really looks like on the ground when the cameras are gone, and the budgets are thin.

On one of those days, in between shelters, I pulled over and bought a coffee.

One of those coffees.

The takeaway kind that costs an arm and a leg.

The one I’m usually the first to roll my eyes at.

I’ve said it for years: Why would you spend that much on a coffee when you could feed an animal for three days with the same money? It’s been my mantra. It’s still my truth.

But I won’t lie.

That day had been hard.

Emotionally hard.

The kind of hard that sits in your chest and makes your shoulders feel heavy.

And that coffee?

It helped.

It was warm. It was familiar. It gave me five quiet minutes in my car to just breathe. It was a brief pause in a day full of responsibility, heartbreak, and problem-solving. It lifted me just enough to keep going.

And suddenly I understood something I’d been arguing against for years.

It isn’t just a coffee.

That’s why coffee shops are everywhere. That’s why people queue. That’s why we justify it to ourselves. Because it’s a little spoil. A moment of comfort. A tiny act of self-care in a world that is relentless.

And yet… even as I drank it, the guilt was there.

Because I know what that money could do.

I know how far it could stretch in a shelter.

I know how many bowls it could fill.

And I think that’s where we need to talk about balance.

In animal rescue, everything comes down to sacrifice.

How little we can take.

How little we can survive on.

How much more can we give?

And don’t get me wrong: that sacrifice is why shelters survive. The sector is held together by people who give their time, money, energy, weekends, sleep, and, often, their emotional health.

Anyone who chooses this life gives up a lot.

And once you’re in it, you’re in it for life.

But here’s the thing we don’t say enough:

Just because you work in rescue doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to.

You deserve rest.

You deserve moments of comfort.

You deserve a cup of coffee if that’s what gets you through the day.

It’s okay to have that coffee.

It’s okay to choose yourself sometimes.

It’s okay to need a boost.

And it’s also okay to choose not to have that coffee and instead help an animal in need.

Both things can be true.

What matters is finding a balance that lets you keep going, because burnt-out rescuers help no one.

To the people in animal rescue:

You are lifelines.
You are the last stop for animals that the world has given up on.
You are doing something extraordinary, even on days when it feels like you’re barely holding it together.
You are deserving.

And to the public, I’m not here to tell you to give up your coffee. Life is hard. That coffee might be the best part of your morning.

But maybe, just once in a while, spare a thought for the dogs in shelters. For the people doing outreach. For the animals waiting for guidance, healing, and a second chance.

You don’t have to give up all your coffees.

Just give up one.

One coffee, once a month, can feed a dog in need for days.

And that?

That balance can change lives, including your own.