I am usually a little suspicious about rescue; all my dogs were shelter dogs, so I like the idea of second-hand dogs, but I've had a little bit too much contact with people who were both passionately involved in helping animals and terribly, terribly immoral in how they went about it. Rehoming biters, adopting dogs to inappropriate people, spreading disease through not doing any vet work, etc. So I don't usually join into the chorus of hugs over rescuers; to me, simply preventing a random dog from dying is not enough to qualify a rescue as a good thing. But now I want to say that I was at my vet on Saturday. I was just there to pick up medicine, but it was the clinic's emergency hours and while I was paying my bill, they got a phone call about a rescue that was bringing in a litter of puppies to be put to sleep. They had parvo. And for all I would put any rescue, that one included, through the third degree before I trusted it to give me a good dog, as much as parvo is one of those things even a slipshod rescue probably wouldn't fool around with--for all of that, I was struck by how hard and painful a way that is to spend a Saturday. Driving around in the cold wind, taking a litter of puppies to be killed, and not having to do it. Being completely free to say 'screw it, I'm staying home with my beautiful, beloved, healthy dog' and choosing to grind away at cleaning up other people's messes instead.