“Mama, save this!” — Why I keep saying “Yes” to rescue projects 

I have two daughters; both of them love nature and wildlife. The younger one is, however, more passionate. She is constantly researching and reading about different animals. We often sit together and watch documentaries. Our holidays are always packed with safaris and birdwatching. They both don’t mind waking up early in the morning if it is for birdwatching, a safari, or a nature walk. Every time she finds a creature in trouble, the request is always the same. She looks up at me with absolute faith in her eyes and says, “Mama, please, can you save it?” To understand this, first I need to share some of our rescue stories. 

On a very cold winter morning, she noticed a butterfly that was alive but frozen in the cold. Immediately, she said, “Give it to me, Mama, save this!” When those words are uttered, I know I have no choice but to find a solution to save it. I immediately started looking for a leaf or a flower to shift the butterfly onto. Success—it captured the flower with its legs, giving proof it could move while its whole body was stiff due to the cold. I said, “Let’s take it to our balcony on the 4th floor,” and I placed it on a flowering pot where the rays of the sun were beginning to fall, and we waited for it to warm up. After an hour in the sun, the butterfly flew away; it was no longer cold. 

Two years ago, I came back from work at 4 pm, super tired. My daughters were playing downstairs with friends. They came running upstairs and both screamed, “There are baby kittens, three of them, no mother, eyes have not opened, Mama, save them!” My response was, “I am sure the mama is nearby; cats move around and come back to their kittens.” My daughters responded in tandem, “We have checked with everyone, even the security guard. There is no mother. They were in someone’s car and the car came back with kittens hiding inside from somewhere else. Come with us, you have to save them.” 

I went downstairs and saw they were as small as my 12-year-old daughter’s hand, their eyes not fully opened. No one in the building was taking care of them. We got a cardboard box, a cloth to keep them warm, and some warm milk; thankfully, they could eat on their own. I couldn’t take them home as we have a dog. I thought hard and requested the lady who has cats to please take them in and take care of them till we found a home for them. She was very nice and took them in permanently. 

Another time, I was at home and, since 11 am, I could hear a kitten crying very loudly. I thought maybe a neighbour had a kitten, and when I opened the door to see why the sound was getting louder, lo and behold, there was a kitten outside my door. I joked to myself, “Don’t tell me word has passed on to animals that this is where the rescuer lives.” I shut the door, saying, “It’s a neighbour’s. Why would a kitten be on the 4th floor?” 

My daughter got back from school at 4 pm, and the first thing she said was, “I just saw a kitten run from outside our door. I think it is lost and scared.” And then the magic words: “Mama, can you save it?” I tried to sneak out of it, but she said, “At least get it to the ground floor where its mom is.” 

I went outside. The kitten was now sitting on the 5th-floor stair railing, and it moved back fast every time I approached it, where it could fall down. I put my dog’s ready-to-eat food in a jar and shook it to create a sound to get the kitten’s attention. It was alert and paid attention. I put one round pellet on each stair in front of it and moved back. It slowly ate one and started following the food down. Every time it got distracted, I jingle-jangled the jar and it was back on track, following the food down. This time, I reduced the food to a pellet every 2–3 steps. It followed me down to the ground floor. It was finally back to the ground floor and back to its hiding place—to its mom. This took me two hours of rescue. 

Yet again, there was a kitten. This time, both my daughters came and requested, “Mama, save it!” We began by giving it warm milk and some food. After a few hours, it had built its trust in me; it slowly came and sat on my lap. We found a basket and placed it behind bushes, and gave cat food to the guard to feed it every few hours. We named it “CJ”; it stayed with us for a week—not in the house, but near the guard room—till it got healthy. Then, one day, it went off on its own, as most tomcats do. We see it sometimes around our building, living a happy life. 

On a stormy, rainy day, a fledgling was separated from its family. My daughter and I decided to go for a walk as the rain stopped. Near the garden, we saw the baby bird, not able to fly and chirping away. I picked it up and placed it on a branch so that it was safe and its parents could find it. My daughter kept begging me to take care of it. We decided to check on it after an hour. 

When we went downstairs to check on it, it was all alone, and cats were roaming around to make it their dinner. The parents were nowhere to be found. The guard said, “Cats will eat it for sure. Please, can you take care of it for one night? Keep it in your house.” We rescued it, took care of it for a few days till it could fly, and then released it into the open skies. 

On one such occasion, she looked up and said to me with tears in her eyes, “You know there are two Northern white rhinos left in the world. Why can’t we save them? We should save them!” Looking at her earnest face, I reassured her: “I am sure there are some good people looking after them and maybe some NGOs are already working to protect them.” I encouraged her to research about it. 

Soon enough, she got back very passionately, giving detailed updates—explaining how the last two females, Najin and Fatu, live under 24/7 armed protection at the Ol Pejeta Conservancy in Kenya, and how scientists are developing advanced IVF technology to help save the subspecies from extinction. She added, “So there is hope, thank God.” 

That global perspective directly connects to what happens in our hallway. Whenever she finds an animal in trouble near our home, she gives me that exact same look of absolute faith and delivers her magic words: “Mama, please, can you save it?” 

A lot of my family and friends keep asking, “You stay so busy, how and why do you keep committing to these micro-rescue projects? Isn’t it too much work?” When those words are spoken, I know I have no choice—I step into action. I feel that she must think I can solve everything, and I can’t disappoint her. So even though sometimes I am scared to touch a stray cat or a bird, deep down I find the courage to help save the animal to make my daughter happy. I know her too well to know that she will not eat and she will not sleep till she makes sure the animal is safe and happy. So, the mother in me gets to work to make sure the animal is safe so that my baby can sleep, eat, and be happy. Also, I am a passionate wildlifer, so I love animals, birds, and nature. These rescue projects are so important to me because they are so important to her, and they make us realise that there is love and hope in this world. 

Responding to the life right in front of us teaches her that empathy isn’t passive. We save the butterfly, the kitten, and the bird because every small action proves to our children that no living thing is too tiny to care about—and that when someone needs help, we do what we can. 

END OF ARTICLE