23/01/2026
People in rescue.
“They say people in rescue are rude, short, and generally unpleasant.”
I understand why that reputation exists — though it’s rarely earned in the way people think.
I mostly keep to my own colony, take in the occasional mini panther, and stay out of the wider circus. But I do read posts from fellow rescuers — especially those written by people I know and respect.
Yesterday was one of those days.
There I am, eyeballs barely functional, trying to focus, while my dog Maya — a pit-cross-with-God-knows-what — lies at my feet. Calm. Grounded. Guarding, as she does.
A friend had posted. One of those posts you can feel — exhaustion, frustration, burnout leaking through the words. So I responded. Kindly. Thoughtfully. In context. Because the author knows me, and I know her.
Important distinction: this part was fine.
Maya has taught me a great deal in the last two years and change. Understanding your dog — the one in front of you — matters more than labels on paper.
Yes, says the human who speaks fluent meow.
Enter… not my friend.
A random human. A drive-by opinion merchant. A professional f**k-nugget.
I get tagged.
Curious, I go read.
Apparently, I’m embarrassing myself. Apparently, I think I know what I’m talking about when it comes to my “mutt.”
Nowhere did I say Maya isn’t mixed.
Nowhere did I deny her pitbull lineage.
Nowhere did I claim expert status, mastery, or divine canine insight.
What I did say is that I’m learning — because arrogance is pretending you already know everything, and that has never been my game.
Still, in strolls Cupcake:
“Sit down. You’re embarrassing yourself. You think you know everything after 11 months with a mutt.”
And in that precise moment, the WTF rose like a tidal wave. No warning. No mercy. High ground useless.
I responded publicly — politely. Because I respect passion, even when it arrives badly dressed and socially ill-mannered.
But the ember didn’t die.
So I climbed into my friend’s inbox instead — not to stir drama, but to say, plainly and clearly: this behaviour is not okay. Not from strangers. Not on her page. Not in the name of rescue.
Because here’s the broader issue:
Within three seconds, cupcake demonstrated exactly why rescue workers are branded as rude — not because we’re exhausted, but because some people confuse “education” with condescension.
Social decorum is a skill.
If you plan to teach humans anything, you might want to acquire it first.
And just for clarity:
I am not a cupcake.
I am a moist chocolate mousse cake.
But subtle insults require nuance, and nuance requires a brain larger than a pea.
🎤
As you were.
mic drop, exits with dignity
© The Velvet Hammer