When people think about Bideawee or any other animal welfare organization, what do they usually envision? Some picture sad dogs and cats behind kennel bars. (Cue Sarah McLachlan) Others might have a more positive view and imagine the wagging tails of dogs being rescued, kittens playing in a free-roaming shelter space, and the ultimate goal of animals finding their forever homes. And while some of those moments are very much at the heart of our work, I’ve been reflecting on something a little different lately; a different way to think about the work that we do. Because we aren’t only an animal welfare organization; in many ways, we are a human service organization, too. And I’m really starting to think those of us in the animal welfare space should start framing our missions and conversations with the outside world with that in mind. Hear me out.
Every program we run, every single one, connects people and pets in powerful, often life-changing ways. Our community cat initiative supports the dedicated caretakers who feed, shelter, and advocate for cats living outdoors. Our pet memorial parks provide peace of mind and comfort to families who are saying goodbye to beloved companions. Our pet therapy program offers children, seniors, hospital patients, and students a moment of calm, joy, and connection that eases stress and heals hearts.
Our animal hospital and low-cost spay/neuter services empower pet owners to provide the care their animals need, regardless of financial circumstance. Our adoption team works tirelessly to create matches that don’t just change the lives of animals—but profoundly change the lives of people. And our community outreach efforts, from free medical clinics to pet food giveaways, help keep pets in loving homes, supporting families during their most difficult times.
So, what if we reshaped the narrative? What if we stopped framing animal welfare as a mission apart from people, and instead recognized it for what it truly is: a mission rooted in strengthening the human-animal bond and uplifting communities, ultimately helping people who need our services?
I believe this shift matters—not only for how we tell our story, but also for how we grow our mission. It broadens the understanding of why our work is so essential. It helps us reach those who may not see themselves as “animal people,” but who care deeply about supporting families, children, seniors, and communities. And yes, it can open new opportunities for funding, partnerships, and recognition that ensure we can keep doing this critical work for the next 120 years and beyond.
At the end of the day, our work has always been about more than animals. It’s about people and pets, together. It’s about compassion and connection, resilience, and healing. And as we continue to expand and evolve, I invite you to join us in reshaping the narrative—because when we care for animals, we care for people, too.