It’s been more than a year since I contacted the Arkansas Chapter of the Friends Of Homeless Animals (FOHA) rescue organization after seeing a photo of Bud’s then sickly, even emaciated face online.

I told Maria I thought he was our dog.

I am happy to tell you that Bud is a different dog than the dog we picked up off that truck in Brattleboro, Vt., a fearful, wobbly, and visibly battered animal.

And I am a different human.

Bud is loving, playful, healthy, increasingly well trained, obnoxiously assertive and a delight to us, we love him dearly.

Everything about this rescue experience has been positive and affirming.

I’ve rescued all kinds of animals – dogs, cats. chickens, donkeys, sheep – but Bud was the most heartrending, intense, and emotional of all these experiences excerpt perhaps one – the beautiful, damaged, loyal, and ultimately dangerous dog, Orson).

Animal rescue is one of the most fascinating sub-cultures in the animal world. It is diverse, enormous,  rapidly-growing, generally unregulated, and intense.

I’ve always wanted to write a book about this burgeoning world; I don’t have the time.

It is dangerous to generalize about the rescue world, which didn’t exist in anything like its current form until the rise of the Internet.

New technology brought the people who want, need, and are moved to save animals, especially dogs and cats, together for the first time in human history.

The details of this wonderful and also very controversial animal universe are hard to come by. Nobody knows how many animals are rescued or where they all go.

The U.S. Humane society keeps some records; it reports that approximately 6.5 million companion animals enter U.S. animal shelters every year.

Of those, approximately 3.3 million are dogs, and 3.2 million are cats. About 670,000 dogs and 860,000 cats are euthanized in U.S. shelters.

These statistics come from the 13,000 shelters that report to the S.P.C.A. or Humane Society.

There are also believed to be hundreds of thousands, even millions of dogs and cats who are rescued outside of the shelter system by the many small or private groups acting independently of any outside organization.

And there are also dogs – called purebred – raised and sold by breeders, some of whom are good, some of whom are not.

As a way of grasping the difficulty in understanding the lives of dogs in America, the trusted website Statista reports that there were approximately 89.7 million dogs owned in the United States in 2017.

This is an increase of over 20 million since the beginning of the dog survey period in 2000 when about 68 million dogs were owned in the U.S. In 1965, the number was 15 million.

Nobody knows how many are rescues as opposed to bought or purebred dogs.

All you need to do to be an animal rescue organization in most of America is to decide that you are one.

It’s like being a writer, or a breeder. Getting any dog is a crapshoot in this chaotic and supercharged universe.

Although each group – breeders, shelters, rescue organizations – tend to think they are far superior to the others, the reality is that there are good and bad breeders, excellent and bad shelters, good and bad rescue groups.

No one in this world has a lock on virtue or responsibility, certainly not me.

The University Of Pennsylvania Veterinary School, perhaps the most reliable source of information about domesticated animals, has estimated there are roughly 12 million dogs in the entire, and now vast,  rescue system.

Many rescue groups go out of state, even out of the country, to meet the demand for rescue dogs. Some of these dogs cost hundreds of dollars to adopt.

I should also mention that dog bites on humans have skyrocketed, especially those affecting children. The CDC says they have been increasing at the rate of 47 percent a year. Children often pay for the poor judgment of their parents.

As I said, it is impossible and irresponsible to generalize too broadly about people who rescue animals in America.

Carol Johnson of FOHA is the person who rescued Bud by buying him from his criminally abusive owner to save him from almost certain death. She guided me through the process of adopting him (and paying $1,000 for his health care), and is a valued friend.

Carol is an extraordinarily loving, decent, and conscientious human being. Dealing with her was a privilege, and it saved Bud’s life and got him to a better place.

I’ve also dealt with many people in animal rescue who are narcissistic, self-righteous, and arrogant. It makes sense that people who do this work can easily become intolerant and judgemental.

Some of these groups have made the dog adoption process almost insanely cumbersome and exclusive, especially for the poor, the elderly, or people who work hard.

The advocates for rescue and shelter dogs often demonize people who choose to get an animal in any other way.

Like some people in the animal rights movement, dog rescuers often feel superior to other people.

We save dog’s lives while other morally oblivious people buy them.

Many see getting a dog in any other way than rescuing them to be akin to enabling the slaughter of dogs and other animals.

Rescue people see a lot of awful things; they often see the very worst of humanity in action. It is an emotional, draining kind of work. You need to be grounded.

It is not surprising that some fail to acknowledge that good breeders can do much good in promoting the best traits of animals, or that some people have different needs and wants than they do.

Self-righteousness blossoms when people refuse to acknowledge their self-interest or needs or try to project them onto other people.

That is not good for dogs or people. Dogs do best in the hands of people who are honest and self-aware about themselves, and the emotions they bring to wanting a dog.

When I decided to look for a rescue Boston Terrier rather than buy one, I was well aware that I was acting selfishly as well as generously. Sure, it was great to rescue Bud. But it was also good for me, a meaningful way to feel better about myself.

I am a person who sometimes has needed to feel better about myself. Animals have been a profound help in my search for self-awareness and sanity.

I have exploited dogs in the sense that I use them to make me healthy, as well as to pay my bills and give me something to write about.  I accept this and acknowledge it.

Dogs have helped me to be more patient, less frustrated, less judgemental, and angry. They had grounded me when I was unmoored and offered me, love when I most needed it.

I think they taught me how to love.

In my mind, rescuing a dog or buying one does not give me the right to tell other people what to do, or insist that my way is the only way to get a dog.

That would be selfish; people should get the dog that’s best for them, not what’s best for someone else.

I loved rescuing the donkey Simon; I would never dream of telling anybody that the only way to get a donkey is to save one. Adopting Simon was challenging, expensive, rewarding, and ultimately very painful.

Bringing an animal into my house and life is a transformative experience; it lasts years, costs money, and has an enormous emotional impact on a family.   I want to be sure to get the right dog, a dog I can love and care for to the best of my ability.

That means getting the dog I want and need, not the dog other people tell me to want and need.

Almost every day, someone writes to scold me about buying Zinnia rather than rescuing another Bud. It’s not their business.

At the same time, I want to say that rescuing Bud has been a profoundly rewarding and uplifting experience. He has helped me to feel good about myself.

He has flushed out the loving parts of me and made me look at myself and be better.

The fact that I rescued him has made this experience all the stronger and more productive. But I am cautious to keep perspective about it.

I knew I could help Bud, in part, because this is something I need to do with my dogs and in my life.

This choice doesn’t make me a saint, or superior to someone who buys a dog. It doesn’t give me the right to tell anybody else what to do.

When we forget that, we forget the cardinal rule of getting a loving dog. It has to be the right life for them, not just for me, not just for you.