I'm not a wealthy woman and this was not a reasonable use of my savings, but I booked a flight to Costa Rica and I went to see shelters with my own eyes.
I visited 9 of them over 4 days. Real places. Concrete floors. Volunteers who hadn't slept.
And a woman who runs one of them - Luciana at Territorio De Zaguates - told me something I have not been able to get out of my head since.
I asked her what her hardest month was.
I expected her to say winter. Or summer, when people dump the puppies.
She said:
"February."
I asked her why February.
She said: because everyone gives in December.
The donations come in a flood between Thanksgiving and New Year's. Then there's a viral case in the spring and another small flood. And in between those floods, there are long stretches where nothing arrives at all, and she has to decide how thin to spread what's left.
Then she said the line I ended up building my whole life around:
"We don't run out of love. We run out of February."
That reframed everything for me. I had always assumed animals go hungry because people don't care enough. That's what every ad had trained me to think - give, because nobody else is giving.
That's not the problem.
People care plenty. What shelters don't have is predictability. Compassion arrives in spikes. Hunger arrives every single day.