Women are often scrutinized when they have pets that men wouldn't have. We are immediately faulted for having the wrong kind of pet rather than anyone first think, 'Wow, she rescued an animal that would have been otherwise killed and gave them a great home - how sweet!'

I almost failed out of high school. I nearly gave in to the deep anger and resentment harbored by everyone around me... Whatever talents I have, I almost squandered until a handful of loving people rescued me.

Yet what keeps me from dissolving right now into a complete fairy-tale shimmer is this solid truth, a truth which has veritably built my bones over the last few years--I was not rescued by a prince; I was the administrator of my own rescue.

If I show up at my own fire, the 'me' who needs to be rescued and the 'me' who's doing the rescuing are both likely to get burnt. And the oddity of it all is that if I choose to be my own first-responder, I can get burnt without a fire.

The greatest threat that I need to be rescued from is myself. Everything comes a lot easier after that.

After spending time with the rescued turkeys at Farm Sanctuary's shelter and seeing how similar they are to my furry companion animals at home I knew I needed to do everything in my power to protect these friendly and curious birds from the daily pain and suffering they endure on factory farms.