Sylvia's Diary 10-04-25

Diary – A Week of Wonderful Young Visitors

This week, we’ve had a stream of children visiting from England to help out. Apparently, the Easter holidays start a week earlier there than in Wales—something I now consider both useful knowledge and a minor scheduling nightmare. Still, it meant extra hands (small but enthusiastic ones), and the dogs have never had so many walks or cuddles.

Today was Rosie’s birthday, and rather than a party with balloons or cake overload, she asked to spend the day with us at Many Tears. Now that’s our kind of celebration. I asked her, “Do you have a dog?” She looked at me with great seriousness and replied, “No, I have two younger brothers. Until they’re a bit older, we won’t get one.” Utterly logical, very grown-up and quite possibly younger than her sense of responsibility suggested. She helped all day with her mum, and the dogs loved her. I know this because I saw tails wagging in stereo. She’d come all the way from Bristol just for us.

Another impressive young visitor was 16-year-old Kallissa, who had actually booked an appointment to interview me for her college EPCs. She wants to become an animal rights lawyer and fight for the voiceless, a noble (and much-needed) ambition. She asked me about dog breeding, how it could be improved, and how it might be stopped. I explained that if there was no demand for puppies, breeding would stop, but that not all breeders are bad. Some truly care. At Many Tears, we welcome everyone to look around; we hope some take away ideas to improve their own facilities, whether they’re breeders or not.

Kallissa and her mum had come all the way from North Yorkshire. She spent the day shadowing what we do, meeting the team, and observing our work. She told me she thought the staff were helpful, the animals were happy, and the place was well run. I hope she smashes her goals, she certainly has the focus and heart.

Then, this evening, we had a late visitor. A boy named Harry came with his sister after hours. She explained that Harry was afraid of dogs, and it had become a problem, especially since their dad’s new partner has two dogs, and visits are now a bit of a terror mission for Harry.

So, I invited them in. Harry is five and spoke mostly in nods. To build trust, I brought out our giant wolfhound  We all sat together on a bench, and then Hank the Tank (the wolfhound) decided to sit on our laps. Yes, all three of us at once. It’s his signature move. Harry and his sister giggled, success! Then Bill’s golden retriever look alike, Base, joined in. He believes it’s his divine purpose to charm every child (and their entire extended family), and it seems he’s very good at it. Within ten minutes, Harry had relaxed. I wouldn’t say he’s cured, but it was a start. I made sure to tell him not every dog is friendly, and to always ask before saying hello.

A Visit Through a Child’s Eyes (as seen by Max, aged 7, who may very well be a future vet - and definitely a future heart-melter) and is also my grandson!!!

And what a refreshing, honest (and occasionally hilarious) perspective they bring with them! I decided to look at the rescue through their innocent eyes. Eyes that don’t miss much and speak straight from the heart. So here it is, an unedited interview with Max, age 7, whose love for animals might just rival ours:

“My name is Max and I really admire you guys for rescuing animals. I mean, what needs help more than an animal in trouble? I respect all the staff here because they take great care, because they’re like superheroes for animals. They don’t mess around; they just get on with it!

Many Tears is a super rescue. They take sad animals and make them not-sad. They help them have fun, go on walks, play around, and enjoy life like proper dogs should.

But what happens to all these animals is sad ... I think sometimes people have to give them up, not because they’re bad people, but maybe they’re moving house and the new place doesn’t allow dogs. That’s what happened to my dog Buddy. He came from here too.

We actually have three dogs from Many Tears now my mum says no more, but we’ll see. Buddy is my special boy. He sleeps in my bed and he’s always next to me. He’s my best friend and he helps me when I feel sad.

I think when people adopt animals, it’s because they need a little friend to make life feel better. It’s like, sometimes life is having a hard moment, and then you get a dog and it feels a bit less hard.

I saw the staff here and they really love the animals. You can see it. They’re happy, the animals are happy, even the horses look happy and that’s a good sign!

I’m 7 now, but when I leave school, I’m coming straight back here to work. I’ll lend a helping hand, or maybe I’ll be a vet! Or both.

I thought after all he said we had better keep a space for you on the team I thought I should thank him for reminding us what love and kindness look like when you strip away all the grown-up nonsense.

My Day at Many Tears – by Sydney (Age 12)

Hi, my name is Sydney. I’m 12 years old and I absolutely love animals! I’ve been coming to Many Tears for as long as I can remember—usually once or twice a year—and it’s one of my favourite places in the world.

This morning started early. It was still dark and freezing outside when we got up. We made up tins and dishes of food for the dogs, putting “blobs of meat” on each one and mixing it all up with a spoon. The dogs absolutely loved their breakfast—but I’m VERY glad I didn’t have to eat it myself!

Not all the jobs here are glamorous. For every cute puppy cuddle, there’s a poo-cleaning session waiting around the corner. But if we want the animals to be happy and comfortable, we must do the not-so-fun stuff too. One of my favourite parts of the day is sitting with the puppies and playing with them. It’s fun for them and fun for me, and they’re learning so much without even having to go to school. (Honestly, I wish I could do the same. I learn more at Many Tears than I do in the classroom!)

The days are long, but I don’t mind. The animals need us, and that makes everything worth it.

I’ve even helped in the vet’s room ever since I was tiny. I used to stand on a stool just so I could reach the operation kits to scrub them clean. Then I’d pop them into the special machine that sterilises everything.

The cats are lovely too, although cleaning up cat poo isn’t quite as lovely. They live in an area that’s a bit dark and noisy, but I know Many Tears is working hard to make a happier space for them. I’d help if I could, but I’m absolutely useless as a builder!

I love the horses here as well. There’s one really old horse who walks super fast on the way to the field, then takes ages to come back again, probably because she knows her breakfast is over! There’s also the tiniest pony who came from a place that made her really scared. We all make sure to be gentle and kind with her. I know, just like my dogs at home, she’ll be happy soon.

Speaking of home, I have loads of dogs and cats who came from Many Tears. One of our dogs is a Staffie called Piggy. He arrived at Many Tears completely bald, and we felt so sorry for him that my mum brought him home. He got even balder at first, and then the vet discovered he has something called Cushing’s Disease. Now he takes pills, and his fur has grown back. He spends most of his day cuddled under blankets, snoring.

We also have a dog who was so scared you couldn’t even touch her. My mum brought her home before I was even born! She’s really old now, about 17, and she loves us all so much.

Some of the dogs from Many Tears even become champion agility dogs! They go off and compete in all sorts of places.

One day, I want to be a zoologist and learn everything I can about animals. But in between, I’ll always come back to Many Tears, because I love it here.

Meet Lilly (Age 6 and Full of Opinions)

This interview was recorded during a show-around at Many Tears. It features a brilliant little girl called Lilly, who came to meet the dogs.

Before we started, I asked her parents if I could have a quick chat with her. They said, “Sure, but she never stops talking.”

They weren’t kidding.

Lilly turned six in January, and she was full of energy, questions, and extremely serious dog opinions.

Me: “So, why are you visiting Many Tears today?”

Lilly: “We’re here to choose a dog ‘cause we don’t have one anymore. Ours went to live with Nanna ‘cause she’s lonely. Grampy left too.”

(Sounded simple enough… at first).

Me: “What kind of dog did you used to have?”

Lilly: “Nanna’s dog. ‘Cause we gave it to her.”

Me: “Do you know what kind of dog you’re looking for today?”

Lilly: “One that’s not too big. In case Nanna wants it too.”

(At this point, her parents quietly pulled me aside and explained that Nanna had actually passed away years ago, and their pet dog had just recently died. So, they’d told Lilly that the dog had gone to keep Nanna company… in heaven).

When I asked Lilly what she thought of the rescue, she didn’t hold back.

Lilly: “No. It’s horrible. And too sad.”

I gently explained why the dogs were there, and how lucky they were to get second chances and find new homes.

She paused to think, then sighed dramatically and said:

“My mummy says I can only have one. It’s too sad ‘cause there are millions of dogs I can’t have here.”

To cheer her up a bit, we gave her a friendship bracelet. She was very pleased with that.

Lilly and her family left to have a think about which dog they’d apply for, but I’ve got a good feeling. I reckon whatever lucky dog they choose is going to be just fine.

George, 5 years old was here when a retriever pup arrived. His mum asked why he had come in, and I said because he has a bad heart, George piped up, no he’s not he’s got a kind heart. Of course he was right, but sadly the pup now named “George” does have a heart that beats strangely but luckily it’s a low grade murmur and the vets say it could improve as time goes on. It is not affecting him at all, in fact last night whilst playing with him and his buddy, Promise, they ran rings around us.

These children, they’re the future for our dogs, cats, ponies, and every other voiceless soul. If we can help shape their kindness and compassion, then maybe, just maybe, we can be part of changing this sad world. And I desperately want to be part of that.

When I was a child I would have given everything to be able to come to a rescue like many Tears, but the only rescues I went to were sad places where the staff didn’t stop to talk and no one smiled. Maybe that’s another reason I wanted to create a rescue just like Many Tears. I pray it never gets too big to remember all those who help, never too big to smile at people and never too big to chat to a child.

Next I talked to children from the failed fosterers club. They all had parents who had failed as fosterers and all had learnt plenty it would seem from their experiences.

 Diary Entry – Josh, Age 14, Son of a Failed Fosterer

 Hi. I’m Josh. I’m 14, and I live with my mum, my dad, and a small canine army.

Why? Because my mum is a failed fosterer. Not just a little bit failed. Like… Olympic-level failed. Let me explain. Mum is really good at the normal mum stuff. She makes epic breakfasts, drags me out of bed like a drill sergeant, and says “no” faster than a ninja when I ask for another ice cream, a new video game, or to stay out past 10..

But when it comes to dogs? She’s hopeless.

It all started with one dog. ONE. Then Mum discovered this website called Many Tears Rescue. Which, by the way, sounds like an emo band to me , but no, it’s a dog rescue.

So Mum and Dad decide, “Hey, let’s foster a dog! You just look after them until they find a new home.”

Simple, right? Wrong.

The first time the rescue van arrived, it was packed with cages and dogs and Mum came home sobbing like she’d just watched the end of The Notebook.

But she was buzzing about helping this one dog get happy again, and honestly, it was great for me.

All her attention shifted from “What’s Josh up to?” to “What’s the dog doing?”

I could have built a rocket in the garden and she wouldn’t have noticed.

But then… the crying continued.

She cried when the dogs arrived.

She cried when the dogs left.

And Dad, who’s a solid, logical man, was like, “Maybe this is emotionally wrecking you?”

And Mum was like, “No no, I’m fine, I’ll get better!”

She did not get better.

One day, a dog came off that van… and it never left.

Then it happened again.

And again.

And again.

We now have FIVE dogs. FIVE. That’s not fostering. That’s… adoption on repeat.

Mum says they’re all “special cases.”

I think she means she’s the special case.

Now she’s out every morning and evening with her dog squad - walking, training, talking to other dog people like some kind of furry cult leader.

Dad and I just play video games and pretend we’re not in a sitcom. Everyone’s happy.

Except Mum’s not allowed to foster anymore. Dad made a law. A No-More-Dogs-Act.

Last year, I even picked up litter to raise money for the rescue’s fuel fund. I was like a binman with a purpose.

But STILL! Mum is banned from fostering.

She keeps muttering, “But five is an odd number… even numbers are better…”

I’m an only child, and I like it that way.

But if Mum thinks we need to be evened out… Pray for me.

Luie, Age 7 – Mini Fosterer with Maximum Energy

Many Tears is amazing because they look after all sorts of animals, even the wonky, wobbly, sneezy ones. The people there are super kind and basically magical. If an animal’s got something wrong, they help fix it up and then ta-da! New home! Or foster home. Or our home… which is now a bit of a zoo.

I try to help by fostering tiny baby animals (even though Mum says they take over the house faster than laundry). We now have 2 cats, 3 dogs, and about 400 toys the dogs keep stealing. Dogs are my favourite because they do zoomies and lick your ears when you’re trying to sleep. What’s not to love?

Oz, Age 10 – Has a Kitten Who Thinks He’s a Dog

Many Tears is the best! They rescue loads of animals. Like… LOADS. I think if you shook the rescue van, animals would just keep falling out like a doggy vending machine. But in a nice way.

The staff are awesome and spend so much time helping the dogs feel better and get adopted. We’ve got a kitten from MT, and guess what? He thinks he’s a dog now. He plays fetch, follows me around, and tries to bark (it’s more of a squeak). Basically, I have a cat who needs therapy but it’s brilliant.

Eleanor, Age 13 – Professional Foster Sister & Dog Matchmaker

Many Tears rescues animals like it’s their full-time superpower. I honestly don’t think they could be better unless they started handing out free snacks to foster kids. (Just saying).

The staff are lovely and the volunteers get to walk dogs, which is a major perk - plus it counts as exercise even when you’re mostly being dragged across a field. I love fostering because it’s like watching tiny, furry reality TV stars grow up, find their forever families, and live happily ever after. And I get to meet the adopters and approve of them. It’s like being on The Dog Bachelor.

A Week of Sunshine, Smiles, and a Smidge of Worry 

The weather’s been amazing this week and so have the children helping out. Two of them are my own grandchildren, who, between feeding pups and filling water bowls, somehow manage to drop the most wonderful inspirations about life. They see joy in the muddiest puddle and hope in the eyes of every tail-wagger. It’s contagious. But as always, no matter how much good there is, we’re reminded that we just can’t keep up. The need is too great.

Take Promise, the brain-damaged pup who can now trot happily along on 6K lead walks, ride in the car to the park, and get cuddled by strangers who fall in love with him on the spot. He is a miracle. But still he has no home.

Then there are the dogs from Spain and Cyprus, some absolute mountains of canine magnificence, but no interest, no applications, no homes. Is it the new website (which is lovely but still not running quite right)? Are the dogs too big? Too broken? Too… unsocialised? I honestly don’t know. But I’m worried. Capital W. Worried.

Staff wages need paying. So do vet bills, equipment, food, and every other never-ending cost. And just when I think it can’t get more absurd, in comes the council. Yes, the very council we help by taking strays out of hours, collecting for them, working with the police, caring for dogs after someone has died. They’ve decided we owe double council tax. Why? Because the house, the one with the grooming room, the dog kitchen, the office, is now a “second home”. Apparently, if it’s furnished, it’s taxable. It’s manned 24/7. It’s not a second home. It’s not even a first home. It’s a lifeline.

Next job, I’m writing to BT to ask for eight telegraph poles to help build a cattery, because the flood of kittens is coming and the cats are already arriving. Many are left behind by elderly people being moved into care. Social workers call, desperate for help. The cats are all these people have, and giving them up breaks their hearts.

It all feels like a bit of a brick wall some days. Or maybe several. And I’m the one banging my head against it.

Still, the dogs are happy. The sun is shining. The children are laughing. And most people I meet, despite everything, are smiling. So we press on, a little weary, a little worried… but very much still wagging.

Please this week look at the new competition and enter. This is only running for a month, and we are all hoping each of your £3 entry fees will generate enough money for us to keep travelling to pick up the dogs far and wide.

Thank you again for your support, your kind words, and especially to the children for their smiles.

Sylvia x