A Safe Place to Land

By Holly Kasperbauer

I grew up in a home where loving animals was simply part of who we were. We always had cats and dogs, and I had horses. Some of my earliest and happiest memories involve animals. No doubt, I got that love from my mom. Horses were especially our thing. My mom would load up the trailer and haul my horse and me to shows all over the state of Iowa. I was young enough that I probably didn’t appreciate everything that went into those trips. I just knew that my mom was there, my horse was there, and we were doing something we loved together.

My mom passed away when I was seven. At seven, I didn’t really have the words to understand grief, much less explain what I was feeling. But I had my horse. Somehow, when I was with my horses, things felt a little more okay. I always felt like there was no problem that couldn’t be solved from the back of a horse. More than anything, horses made me feel close to my mom. They had been something we shared. After she was gone, they remained a place where I could still feel connected to her.

I didn’t know it then, but I think that was my first experience with the healing power of animals.

Feeling of Home

One of the first truly “grown-up” things I did was getting a kitten. I was a sophomore in college and had just moved into my first apartment when I got Toby, a beautiful black and white kitten. Toby proceeded to accompany me through pretty much every version of young adulthood. He was there when I was making questionable decisions. He was there when I was student teaching. He moved with me from Iowa to Texas, back to Iowa, then to Virginia, and eventually back to Texas again. When Nick and I moved to Texas the first time, we decided we were ready to get a puppy. Enter Pepper, a sweet little rat terrier. Toby was not consulted about this decision. And as you can imagine, he wasn’t particularly excited about the new member of the family. Eventually, though, Toby and Pepper became buddies. They were with us through moves and new jobs. They were there for the good days and the not-so-good ones. 

Technically, they depended on us. We fed them and cared for them. We packed them up each time life took us somewhere new. But the truth is, we needed them just as much. After long days at school or work, we knew that when we walked through the door, they would be there waiting for us. Addresses changed. Jobs changed. Life changed. But wherever Toby and Pepper were, that was home. Eventually, we had to say goodbye to both of them. And our house was far too quiet.

Rescue Becomes Part of the Story

We knew we wanted animals in our home again, but this time we decided we wanted to rescue. Today, our home includes three rescue dogs. Lola is our 11 year old rat terrier mix, Murphy is our 10 year old rat terrier mix, and Gracie is our 6 year old pit bull mix. They bring an incredible amount of joy to our lives, along with a bit of chaos you might expect from living with three dogs.

After adopting Lola and Murphy, I knew I wanted to become more involved in animal rescue, so Nick and I signed up to foster dogs. Needless to say, Nick had one concern. Would I ever be able to let them go. And to be fair, that was a reasonable concern.

Almost ten years and more than 90 foster dogs later, we’ve only kept one. Gracie holds the distinction of being our one official “foster fail.” The rest have left our home and gone on to complete someone else’s family. Fostering has taught me a lot. Sometimes a dog comes into our home scared or unsure of what is happening. Some haven’t learned yet that people can be safe. Others simply need a place to land while they wait for whatever comes next. Our job is to give them that place for however long they need it.

We feed them and care for them. We give them time to decompress and watch as their personalities begin to emerge. Sometimes the dog who hid in the corner on the first day is stretched across the couch a few weeks later, completely convinced that it belongs to them. And then, when we’ve done our job, we let them go. You would think that means we’re the ones doing the rescuing. I’m not so sure.

Gracie Was There

There is one moment that probably explains better than anything I could write what I mean when I talk about the healing power of animals. A few years ago, Gracie and I picked up a hobby called nosework. It turns out Gracie loves using her nose, and I love that it’s something the two of us can enjoy together. We started traveling to trials and it became our thing. A little over a year ago, Gracie and I were at a nosework trial in Austin when I received a phone call that changed my life. My older brother had unexpectedly passed away. I was in shock. So many things immediately started racing through my mind. I needed to check on my brother’s kids. I needed to call Nick. There was a flight home that needed to be booked. And then I just stopped.

I will never forget sitting in my car trying to process what I had just been told, with Gracie right there beside me. She didn’t know what had happened. She didn’t know who I had lost. But she knew me. She knew something was wrong. My 70 pound pit bull climbed into my lap in the driver’s seat and stayed there with me. There was nothing she could do to change what had happened. There was nothing anyone could have said in that moment that would have made it better. Gracie didn’t need words. She just knew that I needed her. And there she was.

So, Who Really Rescues Whom?

When I think about that moment, I can’t help but think about the seven year-old girl who lost her mom and found comfort on the back of a horse. All those years later, after another devastating loss, there was an animal beside me once again. I didn’t have the words for what animals gave me when I was seven. I’m not sure I completely have them now. But I know what it feels like.

When we talk about the healing power of animals, I don’t think it means they magically make the hard things disappear. My horse couldn’t bring my mom back. Gracie couldn’t bring my brother back. A cat can’t change a diagnosis, and a dog can’t erase grief. There is research that tells us animals can be good for our physical and emotional well-being. But for those of us who have experienced the love and comfort of an animal when we’ve needed it most, we don’t necessarily need research to convince us. We’ve felt it.

They sit beside us when we don’t have words. They make us laugh on days when we weren’t sure we could. They get us out of bed because breakfast isn’t going to serve itself. They greet us at the door like we’ve been gone for years instead of eight hours. They don’t ask us to explain why we’re sad. They don’t try to find the right thing to say. They just stay beside us.

In animal rescue, we often use the phrase, “Who rescued whom?” It can sound a little cliché, but after a lifetime of loving animals, I understand why we keep saying it. Nick and I have opened our home to more than 90 foster dogs over the years. I’d like to think we’ve helped them. We’ve loved them and given them a safe place to land until their families found them. But I know better than to think the rescuing only goes one way. Animals have been there through almost every chapter of my life. When I was a little girl, my horse gave me a place where I could still feel close to my mom. Years later, Toby and Pepper made one new address after another feel like home. Then more than 90 foster dogs passed through our lives, each leaving a little something behind when they went on to their new families. Except one. One of those foster dogs never left. And on one of the worst days of my life, Gracie climbed into my lap and helped carry me through it.

Maybe that’s the real healing power of animals. We give them a safe place to land. And somehow, again and again, they become that safe place for us.

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Holly Kasperbauer

Holly Kasperbauer is the Assistant Director of the Public Service Leadership Program at the Bush School of Government and Public Service at Texas A&M University, where she works with students on leadership and professional development. She earned a bachelor’s degree in Agricultural Education from Iowa State University and a master’s degree in Agricultural Education from Texas A&M University.

Originally from Iowa, Holly grew up surrounded by animals, including dogs, cats, and horses, and credits her parents, especially her mom, with giving her a lifelong love of animals. That love has continued through her involvement with Make a Stand Bully Rescue, a local nonprofit, where she previously served on the board, including as board chair, and continues to volunteer and foster. Holly and her husband have fostered more than 90 dogs, helping them on their way to finding permanent homes. She believes animals have an incredible ability to bring comfort, connection, and healing, especially during some of life’s most difficult moments.