Guest Blogger: Dara McKinney, Foster Mom Extraordinaire
I’ve learned that rescue has a ripple effect. One dog can change everything. One adoption can bring comfort into a grieving home, make space for healing, and eventually open the door for another dog who needs a chance.
That’s exactly what happened to me.
When I look back, it all started the day I saw the P.A.W. wagon. I had no idea that stopping to look at puppies would lead me to Daisy, or that Daisy would help carry me through some of the hardest grief I’ve ever known, or that loving her would eventually give me the courage to foster my first dog, Levi.
A Legacy of Healing and Protection
Dogs have never been “just pets” to me or my family. They’ve been protectors, partners, and lifelines.
I grew up around animals, and that bond only got deeper as life got harder. After traumatic medical experiences, I developed epilepsy and severe anxiety. Lilly came into my life and became so much more than a companion. She was my seizure alert dog, my shadow, and one of the biggest reasons I felt safe for so many years. She stayed with me for 16 years and saved my life more times than I could ever count. Losing her in late 2024 at 18 years old broke something in me.
My husband had that same kind of bond with Patch. After serving three tours in Iraq and coming home with a spinal injury and PTSD, he found comfort and grounding in Patch. Patch had survived terrible abuse before becoming part of our family, and somehow he still had this endless capacity for love. He became my husband’s PTSD service dog and helped him through so much. We lost him in September 2025 at 17.
When you lose dogs like Lilly and Patch, the silence in your home feels huge. We still had Athena, our standard Australian Shepherd, helping our son with emotional regulation, and there was still love in our house. But there was also grief everywhere.
How Daisy Found ME
Healing didn’t come in some grand, dramatic moment. It came when I saw the P.A.W. wagon at a community event.
I wandered over to look at the puppies and ended up climbing into a pen with a whole litter of sweet, wild little babies. In the middle of all that puppy chaos was one quiet brindle girl. While the others bounced around, she curled up on my chest and went to sleep.
That was Daisy.
The second she settled on me, I felt something. It reminded me of the connection I had with Lilly. I can’t explain it better than that. It was just there.
Daisy didn’t replace Lilly or Patch, because dogs like that can’t be replaced. But she helped me breathe again. She brought comfort back into a home that felt heavy. She gave me something soft and hopeful to hold onto while I was still carrying so much grief. She helped me keep going, and honestly, she helped all of us keep going.
She was the beginning of the ripple for me.
How Daisy Led Me to Foster
Once Daisy settled in, I got to see what one dog can do inside a hurting home. She brought joy back. She brought steadiness. She reminded me that healing doesn’t always look big and dramatic. Sometimes it looks like a brindle puppy making everybody laugh again.
Somewhere along the way, I realized that if Daisy could do that for us, maybe our home could do that for another dog too.
That’s what led me to fostering.
My home is what I jokingly call a jumble of imperfect humans and animals, but it’s full of love, experience, and patience. Daisy helped me see that maybe all of that could be useful to a dog who needed a safe place to land. She made me want to say yes again, not just to loving my own dog, but to helping another one heal too.
That next yes was Levi.
Levi and My First Goodbye
In January 2026, we brought home our first foster, Levi.
If Daisy was calm, Levi was pure chaos. He came in with huge energy, no respect for personal space, and the kind of goofy personality that takes over a whole house in about five minutes. He and Daisy became instant partners in crime. The zoomies alone could wear me out just watching them.
But under all that wild energy, Levi was such a good dog. He just needed time, structure, patience, and a place where he could learn how to settle. I got to watch him grow into himself, and that was such a gift.
And then came the part I knew was coming but still wasn’t ready for: my first goodbye.
That first goodbye hurt. A lot.
Levi got a real hold on my heart, and handing him over to his forever family was bittersweet in every way. I was happy for him, because this was the whole point. This was what I wanted for him. He deserved his home. But knowing that doesn’t make it easy when you’ve loved a dog day in and day out and then suddenly your house is quieter.
I cried when he was adopted. I won’t pretend otherwise.
But I also understood something important in that moment. Saying goodbye to Levi wasn’t the end of loving him. It was part of loving him. It meant he got exactly what he needed. And it meant I could keep my door open for the next one who might need me too.
When I think about Daisy and Levi, I see how connected it all is.
I saw the P.A.W. wagon and met Daisy. Daisy helped me through the grief of losing Lilly and Patch. Loving Daisy gave me the courage to foster Levi. And loving Levi enough to let him go reminded me that sometimes the hardest part of rescue is also the most meaningful.
That’s the ripple effect as I’ve lived it.
It’s messy and emotional and beautiful. It’s grief and healing living side by side. It’s loving deeply, even when you know goodbye is part of the deal. And it’s trusting that every time one dog finds safety and love, it opens the door for the next one.
If you’ve ever thought about fostering or adopting but worried that you’re not perfect enough, I can tell you from experience that perfect is not the requirement. Love is.
Sometimes all it takes is one yes. One dog. One open door.
If you want to adopt, foster, or donate to support rescue in Bartow County, there’s room for you in this work too.
Check out our latest events or browse our available animals to see how you can get involved. Let’s keep the ripple going together.
