I visited Iraq earlier this year and spent time with three people who represent the heart of a growing animal rescue movement. None of them run official shelters. They work out of small homes, rooftops, side yards, and borrowed spaces. Their approaches differ, but their stories share the same beginning. They saw an injured animal and could not walk away.
The first person I met was Samar, a young woman in Basra who started rescuing dogs after finding a puppy hit by a motorcycle. The puppy survived, and soon the neighbors began bringing her every injured animal they found. She laughed when she told me, “أحن عليهم لأن ما عدهم أحد غيري” (I care for them because they have no one else). Her small home now holds multiple recovering dogs. She works full time and spends nearly everything she earns on food, medicine, and transport.
In Baghdad I met Mahmoud, who started with one burned kitten he found near a generator exhaust. By the time I visited, he had converted his rooftop into a small sanctuary with makeshift pens and shade cloth. He told me, “لازم نساعدهم حتى لو ما عدنا فلوس كافية” (We have to help them even if we do not have enough money). Many of the cats he takes in arrive dehydrated or injured. Local vets taught him the basics, and he keeps his supplies in plastic bins beside his washing machine.
The third person was Leila in Najaf. Her rescue began with a starving dog she found near a construction site. She fed him, took him home, and then found herself caring for twelve dogs and three cats within two months. Her yard is small and nothing is formal. Bowls are mismatched. Bedding is whatever she can find. When I asked how she keeps going despite the cost, she said, “الله يوفرها بطريقة ما” (God provides it somehow). She said it with a tired smile that carried both faith and fatigue.
Veterinary access is improving across Iraq, but money remains the hardest challenge. Food, vaccines, and medicine disappear fast. Some clinics try to help when they can. In one clinic I watched a vet examine a limping dog Mahmoud brought in. After a quiet moment he told him, “عالجناه وبعدين تحاسب” (We will treat him and you can pay later). The relief on Mahmoud’s face said everything.
One established rescue that plays a crucial role in supporting this growing movement is Iraqi Street Animal Rescue Operation. They handle emergency cases, provide medical treatment and sterilisation, and rehome both locally and internationally. Their work often fills the gap when small home based rescuers face cases beyond their resources.
If you would like to support the broader movement and help animals like the ones Samar, Mahmoud, and Leila fight for every day, you can donate directly to a reputable group at www.iraqstreetanimals.org. Even a small amount helps pay for food, medicine, and lifesaving care for Iraq’s most vulnerable animals.
