“Can we climb up here?” I ask in the tone of a six-year-old child near the wooden stairs hidden in the crown of a pear tree.

“Sure, climb up,” says our guide, biologist Volodymyr Buchko. Hidden in the branches, there is a platform and a table with a bench. 

“I drink coffee here in the evening and watch animals come out into the open. There’s a ram over there and a deer…”

From the terrace on the pear tree, you can see the hilly western Ukrainian steppe, the Burshtyn Reservoir, and scattered thickets where deer, mouflons, and other animals hide from the heat. Kasova Hora Ecosystem Conservation and Restoration Center is located near the city of Halych in the Ivano-Frankivsk region, where Daniel of Galicia is a Ukrainian historical figure and the king of Rus’ (from 1253). He is described as an exceptionally gifted ruler, who built a number of cities (including Lviv), reformed the military forces, and brought European cultural influences to Ukraine. Adapted from: Internet Encyclopedia of Ukraine.Daniel of Galicia once lived. Volodymyr appears to have as much right to be proud as the king, for his long-held ambition has come true here: Ukraine’s largest ungulate rehabilitation center, where animals recover and restore the steppe.

“Just mow it”

There is no entrance fee, but there is a donation box and a charity account. Right at the entrance, fallow deer are resting in the shade. They spot us and jump up. As we ascend higher, the chimneys of the Burshtyn TPP is a coal-fired power plant located in the Ivano-Frankivsk region. Source: Wikipedia.Burshtyn TPP and the blue reservoir on the Hnyla Lypa River appear on the horizon.

The Gorgany Mountains stretch across the skyline. From Kasova Hora (hora means “mountain” in Ukrainian), you can see far into the distance. 

Where does the name Kasova come from? In Ukrainian, it means “cash register.” What could that possibly have to do with a mountain? Locals tell a story that Daniel of Galicia once hid his treasure in one of the many caves here. However, it is more likely that the name comes from the word kosovytsia (“haymaking”). And haymaking plays an important role here!

But even if the treasures are really here, there is also a more valuable and undiscovered treasure—a rare natural area.

Kasova Hora is the largest fragment of meadow steppe in the region. “This is the benchmark for the Western Ukrainian steppe. There are other areas like this one, but they are very small,” explains Volodymyr, confidently strolling through Kasova Hora in his Crocs. “The ecosystem here is very rich. There are 380 species of vascular plants, more than 30 of which are listed in the The Red Book of Ukraine is an official national red list of the threatened animals, plants and fungi that are protected by the law in Ukraine. Source: Wikipedia. Red Book of Ukraine.”

Vsevolod Levytskyi, a nature conservation specialist of Shevchenko Scientific Society is a Ukrainian scientific society devoted to the promotion of scholarly research and publication, founded in 1873. Source: Wikipedia.Shevchenko Scientific Society in Lviv, was the first to want to protect this steppe. In 1936, he wrote a letter to the Metropolitan of Galicia and the Archbishop of Lviv, Andrey Sheptytsky is a priest and theologian of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church who served as the Metropolitan of Galicia and the Archbishop of Lviv from 1901 until his death in 1944. Source: Wikipedia.Andrey Sheptytsky, asking him for the land of Kasova Hora, which at that time belonged to the church. Scientists and representatives of the Greek Catholic Church gathered at a conference and jointly decided to create a nature reserve on Kasova Hora. However, World War II thwarted these plans. During the Soviet era, a nature reserve was created here after all. Initially, 7 hectares were protected, and since 1988, 65 hectares have been protected.

In other areas, people mowed hay. However, where the deer now graze, sheep were kept until the 1990s. Plowing was impossible here, as limestone and gypsum come to the surface, so a plow cannot pass. This is what saved this piece of the steppe from destruction.

In 2019, renowned botanist Yakiv Didukh visited Kasova Hora, Volodymyr recounts. He did not recognize it. The steppe had become extremely overgrown, leading to thickets and invasive species. Soon there would be nothing of value left in terms of nature conservation.

“I said we would preserve it,” recalls Volodymyr. “And Yakiv replied, ‘Take a scythe and just mow it.’” It was impossible to mow so much. That’s when I came up with the idea of creating a rehabilitation center for ungulates.

“So that they could graze and take care of the area?”

“Exactly!”

Teeth and horns vs. thickets

By eating trees and shrubs, ungulates preserve the steppe. Otherwise, the area becomes overgrown. Then, valuable species disappear, replaced by invasive species that are not characteristic of the steppe.

Volodymyr’s idea to bring ungulates to Kasova Hora was supported by IFAW, which financed the initial costs. Scientists organized an expedition there. Together, they created a project on how to manage the territory. In 2023, the Burshtyn City Council supported the project and leased the land to Volodymyr Buchko for 20 years so that the plan could be implemented under his leadership.

The restoration of an ecosystem to its original state is called rewilding. At Kasova Hora, this process was carried out by ungulates, or rather their teeth. Kasova Hora is a two-in-one project: the rehabilitation of ungulates that had previously lived in unsuitable conditions and the restoration of the steppe.

In addition, species that previously lived in Podillia is a historic region in Eastern Europe located in the west-central and southwestern parts of Ukraine and northeastern Moldova. Source: Wikipedia. Podillia are being returned to the wild here. This is a reintroduction.

Volodymyr, his wife—botanist Lesia Buchko— and one hired staff member work on the wide terrain. Volodymyr is presently serving in the military, thus he can only visit the reserve while on leave. It would be difficult to function without volunteers.

“UAnimals coordinates volunteers for us. And now I’ll show you how they’ve helped us!”

Volodymyr leads us to an area where cut bushes and trees are visible. This area has been cleared. Most of the branches and logs were removed by the volunteers. There are three such areas at Kasova Hora. Botanists have taken notes on them and will now monitor how the steppe gets restored in these places.

Volodymyr crouches down next to a gnawed sapling. “This tree has dried up, and that’s a good thing. Male European roe deer rubbed their antlers against it and stripped off all the bark. That’s why the tree died. We allow individual trees to grow, but if there are too many of them, the steppe becomes overgrown. If you cut down a tree, the undergrowth remains and continues to grow. But here, everything has been gnawed away, so it won’t grow anymore. In other words, roe deer regulate the ecosystem.”

Peter, Vasyl, and who else?

There is a roe deer in a small quarantine enclosure. However, this animal has not yet started working on the ecosystem. He looks like a small goat and runs to a bottle of milk to suck eagerly. “This is little Peter. He was found on Peter and Paul Day, so that’s what we named him,” says Lesia.

There are eleven roe deer at Kasova Hora. They were handed over from private keeping. “They all have the same story,” Volodymyr complains. “People come to the forest, see a baby roe deer, and take it home. The deer grows up and starts eating everything. And then we are asked to take it away, as soon as possible. No matter how much you explain that you can’t take babies from the forest, people still can’t resist doing it!”

In the neighboring enclosure, Vasyl, a deer from Boryspil, was also brought from private keeping. Right now, the deer is resting in the shade.

“Why is he in quarantine?” I ask.

“He got into a fight with another deer. We’ll release him soon. He’s actually phlegmatic and tame. When he was brought, he just stood there and didn’t want to leave the cage. To get him to walk out, you had to push him from behind. He’s terrified of machinery. Maybe he was in some kind of accident.”

The rest of the animals roam Kasova Hora wherever they want. However, the area itself is limited, covering just 23 hectares. This is how much land Volodymyr has been able to fence off so far. The ungulates live here in conditions close to their natural ones. They hide from people, and it is not so easy to see the animals.

“Kids come here and say, ‘We want to see the animals,’” shares Volodymyr. “I always tell them that this isn’t a zoo. Wild animals live their own lives, but you can walk around and look for them. Maybe you’ll find them, but no one can guarantee you that. It’s a kind of quest in itself.’”

The ungulates to the foreground  

I love quests, so we continue on our way. Ahead, a reddish, curious head peeks out from the grass. It is a female Przewalski’s horse.

She was the first resident of the center and settled here with the help of UAnimals. She used to live in the former hunting residence of Ukraine’s ex-president, Viktor Yanukovych is the fourth president of Ukraine, from 2010 to 2014. Yanukovych was removed from the presidency during the 2014 Revolution of Dignity, which followed months of protests against him. Since then, he has lived in exile in russia. Source: Wikipedia.Viktor Yanukovych. There is now a recreation park there. 

The animal had a fiery temper, so in the spring of 2022, the staff decided to put her down. Concerned people intervened, and UAnimals joined to support the animal. The organization paid for sedation, veterinary care, and transportation of the animal to the Ivano-Frankivsk region. She lived for another year at the stadium in the city of Burshtyn, as there was no enclosure yet for her at Kasova Hora.

Her neighbors are a herd of nine northern spotted deer that used to live in the Lviv region in a cramped enclosure of a recreation center. The place went bankrupt, and there was no one to take care of the animals. UAnimals, together with Volodymyr, transported them to Kasova Hora, where the deer now have incomparably more freedom. Later, one of the females gave birth to a fawn, so now there are ten animals in the herd. They share the vast territory of Kasova Hora with two other spotted deer, three European fallow deer, four mouflons, and eleven European roe deer.

The animals do not reproduce at the center, so during the mating season, males and females get separated. To do this, they are lured into a special enclosure with food. “They went in and moved in a circle. At one point, the whole herd came in, and I closed the door,“ explains Volodymyr. “The male approached the edge, so I got him in a cage and released him in a different area.” 

The animals receive basic care. They are vaccinated and treated for ticks (after being lured into the enclosure, the herd gets sprinkled with powder that protects against parasites). In winter, they are given a bit of oats and corn. In summer, they are only given salt licks. Everything else is as it is in nature. 

Souslik’s comeback: How spotted ground squirrels get reintroduced

The tin fence glitters in the sun, almost hurting the eyes. “And this is a souslik’s nest,” Volodymyr explains.

Seventy years ago, Kasova Hora and the surrounding area were full of them. Ihor, an animal expert from a local village, said that sousliks lived in the area, and he used to chase them with his friends when he was a child. The spotted souslik is more widely known as the spotted ground squirrel (Spermophilus suslicus). In Ukraine, this species is on the verge of extinction.

People were deliberately eradicating spotted ground squirrels because they caused significant damage to farms and gardens. In addition, spotted ground squirrels need steppes and meadows to survive. These are also disappearing. Unplowed land is being plowed, resulting in fewer livestock to graze and clear the overgrowth. Just a little while later the species might have vanished from Ukraine entirely. Scientists are currently working to restore it, including here at Kasova Hora. UAnimals supported the entire spotted ground squirrel reintroduction initiative.

The spotted ground squirrels that settled at Kasova Hora came from the Lviv region. The area where they lived with others of their kind was partially plowed. Experts caught several animals there and relocated them to Kasova Hora.

The so-called nest of the spotted ground squirrels at Kasova Hora manifests as an area surrounded by a metal fence. In the center of it, there is a smaller mesh enclosure. The animals lived there for two weeks, getting used to their new home. Then this mini-enclosure was opened, and the spotted ground squirrels went to explore the half-hectare adaptation enclosure.

Won’t they dig under the fence? No, because the metal is 50 centimeters deep in the ground. There is also a camera there to observe how the animals are settling in. Soon, a camera with a greater zoom will be installed.

A ground spotted squirrel scurries through the grass, but unfortunately, I am too busy examining the camera. The burrows and tunnels are clearly visible, with sunflower husks scattered here and there. “They’ve eaten everything,” Volodymyr inspects. “We give them sunflower seeds, which are quite fatty. The animals need a lot of fat to survive the winter. In nature, they eat seeds and hunt for beetles: grasshoppers and locusts.“

The spotted ground squirrels have been living here since June 1. Later, they will leave this enclosure and live at Kasova Hora, wherever they like. Volodymyr and those involved in the project want the colony to grow to at least 500 animals. For now, these few are being protected from predators.

An electric fence has been installed around the enclosure for this purpose. “If a ferret or a fox comes along, it will sniff it, get shocked, and run away. And we have a scarecrow to scare away birds,” Volodymyr points out.

Even I am scared of this “man” as he moves eerily in the wind.

“I made it move on purpose. The ground spotted squirrel’s biggest enemy is the lesser spotted eagle. It will see a person and not attack. So this ‘man’ protects our colony well.” I take a picture of Volodymyr with the scarecrow. “You can call it ‘The Two on Guard for the Spotted Ground Squirrels.’”

Euphorbia volhynica is endemic to Eastern Europe (it grows only there and nowhere else in the world). It is also a relic, a plant that existed from prehistoric times, when nature was very different. It bears witness to earlier eras.

We encounter the pheasant’s eye (Adonis vernalis). Without the blossoms, it resembles dill. It’s also known as the yellow pheasant’s eye due to its vivid yellow color. The plant is used to produce heart medicine. However, you cannot use it to brew a cup of tea for yourself. It is toxic.

Here and there, Chamaecytisus podolicus grows. It is also a local endemic species that loves rocky slopes. It is protected by international nature conservation lists. The spiky fescue underfoot feels good to the touch.

We are in Opillia, the westernmost part of the region. During past geological eras, seas covered these highlands. Gypsum and limestone formed at the bottom, resulting in rocky slopes. These places were not cultivated, therefore they became relics (they were little affected by humans and preserved many species). These are the region’s richest ecosystems, with the greatest diversity of animal and plant species.

We climb to the top. It is windy. A Eurasian goshawk is hunting above us. From the observation tower, you can see how fragile this beauty is. Right behind the fence, soybeans grow thickly, corn is visible below, and the neighboring hill is covered in bushes. “There used to be steppe on that hill too,” Volodymyr points out. “But now it’s overgrown. Either it will be plowed up, or it will turn into low-value forest.” Such forests are not rich in terms of biodiversity. There are few species of plants and animals there.

We descended for a while through purple moor grass and eagle fern. These are undesirable species here. They are not characteristic of the steppe and grow densely, suppressing other plants. “We mow the fern, but it just grows back.” Dane weed and the European dewberry are also a nuisance. Hoofed animals do not eat everything. They avoid dane weed because it smells bad to them.

“This is a bad spot,” Volodymyr nods at the eagle fern and dewberry. “But these slopes are great.” They are gray with feather grass. Przewalski’s mare appears again and watches us with her shiny dark eyes.

Beyond ungulates and spotted ground squirrels

We sit down near some piles of earth. They look as if a small excavator had been at work there. In fact, this is the work of the Podolian mole-rat (Spalax zemni). It is an endemic species, found only in the region of  Podillia. It is truly blind. Its eyes shrunk because it does not need them, as it lives underground. According to a local legend, when the mole asked God to give him sight, God ordered it to dig as many piles of earth as there are stars in the sky.

Instead, the Podolian mole-rat has long incisors, which it uses to gnaw passages in the ground. It eats the underground parts of plants. It lives alone and only meets other mole-rats to reproduce.

At Kasova Hora, “the population has miraculously survived,” says Volodymyr. There is another one in the Mykolaiv region.

Among the mammals on the mountain, there is also a team of nine hares, all undergoing rehabilitation, from different parts of the country.

Where there are many plants, there are also many insects. A rare purple bumblebee lives at Kasova Hora—the splay-footed carpenter bee (Xylocopa valga). The female builds containers from pollen for each of her eggs. At the bottom of the hill, there are wooden houses ready to welcome this rare insect.

In addition to bees, Kasova Mountain is home to the Ukraine bright bush-cricket (Poecilimon ukrainicus), which is a wingless grasshopper. Only a few individuals remain in nature due to the disappearance of the steppes. Therefore, it is listed in the Red Books of Ukraine and Poland.

Another wingless grasshopper is the predatory bush-cricket (Saga pedo). They are a girls-only club. Males exist in nature, but they are extremely rare. Reproduction occurs without their participation. New insects develop from eggs without fertilization. This type of reproduction is called parthenogenesis. Grasshoppers are predators, catching other insects from ambush.

We wander through the grass to the wild apple. Finally, a bit of shade! Volodymyr searches the ground for a ripe apple, but there is nothing there. Finally, he picks one from a branch.

“You see, the ungulates eat everything. The apples are tart, but they like them. A badger also comes here to eat. He used to live in abundance here, but poachers constantly caught him. Now they can’t do it!”

In the collapsed slopes of the mountain, there are burrows of the European bee-eater, the sand martin, and wild bees. Volodymyr and an employee created one such place for birds by hand, using shovels. Birds have indeed settled there.

While I am looking at the feather grass, I am called down to another solitary tree. It turns out that there is also a cave there. “This is the cave of the peacock butterfly. They hibernate there, and lots of them gather here,” says Volodymyr, settling down in the shade.

The peacock butterfly is a red butterfly known to all of us, and its Latin name is Aglais io, in honor of the beautiful Io, one of Zeus’s lovers.

A camera trap is hidden in the crown of a wild pear tree to monitor which birds fly here. Magpies, great grey shrikes, Eurasian goshawks, lesser spotted eagles, and thrushes are captured on camera.

Another observation point is located on a different pear tree. We climb a wooden ladder to a small terrace right in the crown of the wild pear tree. For Volodymyr, this is also a place for coffee and reflection.

Brainstorming on a tree

“There’s plenty of work to do,” says Volodymyr, leaning back on a bench where a pleasant breeze finally cools the heat. “Right now, I’m building a field kitchen for volunteers. You know, the kind with big frying pans so you can cook potatoes, just like at home.”

The man plans to set up an enclosure for animals that live in water. There have already been four cases where rescued otters could have been settled at Kasova Hora. However, there was no space, and the otters had to be sent elsewhere.

However, the main difficulty is to fence off the other areas of the plot.  Volodymyr currently leases 71 hectares of property, 23 of which have already been secured with a fence. If the same is done in other sections, males can be separated from females during mating season, and animals that cannot live together in a single enclosure, even if it is huge, can be allowed. “Someone asked me to take the red deer, but I couldn’t. He would attack everyone up here.”

By fencing off the second plot, according to the plan, the center will be able to accept another 50 ungulates.

“Everyone benefits from the existence of the center here. The community benefits because I preserve degraded land and pay land tax. And I am happy because it was my dream,” says Volodymyr.

Nowadays, tourists visit Kasova, and distinguished guests come here. However, not everyone is satisfied. Some people really want to see the animals, but this is not always possible. The animals do not sit around waiting for visitors.

School kids also come here. The local schools have introduced outdoor lessons at Kasova Hora for various grades, starting with the 6th grade. “First, we have a tour, then we sit down and talk with the children,” says Volodymyr. “We teach them to be compassionate towards wild animals. We show them how animals should live. Wild animals should live in the wild.”

“Where did you get that bite from?”

“From the marbled polecat”

“Oh, you have such interesting animals biting you. Was this somewhere in the tropics?”

“No, in Ukraine”

While waiting for the shot of a rabies vaccine in the hallway of the Kharkiv emergency room, zoologist Volodymyr Yarotskyy tried to explain to people what kind of animal had bitten him. No one there had ever heard of such a beast.

What is the marbled polecat? It is a small but mighty creature. This carnivorous animal is similar to a European polecat, but it has its own peculiarities. It has long claws, strong muscles, and can scream loudly.

Returning the marbled polecat into the wild was an adventure in itself for Volodymyr Yarotskyy. Continue reading to find out how it went. You will also find out what the marbled polecat can do and what helps and restricts its reemergence in the Ukrainian steppes.

Face to face with a beast

Volodymyr shares, “In the summer of 2020, I was leading a tour to the Homilsha Woods National Nature Park [in the Kharkiv region]. And that’s when my colleagues called me and said that they had caught a marbled polecat at the biological station of the V. N. Karazin Kharkiv National University in Haidary is a village in the Kharkiv region.Haidary. We went there to have a look at the animal. It was in poor shape, and it bit me. I knew how to properly hold a ferret, just under its front paws. Then it can’t bite. In a marbled polecat, however, the tilt of the head is sufficient to bite your finger. The Mustelidae family, similarly to pit bulls, has the unique ability to bite through the flesh. Even though I was wearing welder’s gloves, the marbled polecat bit through them. It was my first encounter with an animal.”

The marbled polecat is a member of the Mustelidae family (aka mustelids), which includes animals that are both strong and plastic. Thus, it is related to the European ferret, marten, badger, otter, and skunk. And it has even more certain similarities to the skunk, but more on that later.

The animal’s Latin name, Vormela peregusna, comes from the Ukrainian language! The term peregusna is derived from perehuznya (перегyзня), which means “polecat” in Ukrainian. Vormela means “little worm”. Its body is very long and graceful, similar to that of a ferret or a weasel.

The species is known as the marbled polecat because of its color. The part pole, which means “chicken,” suggests that the animal is capable of stealing poultry. Yes, it did get caught doing this.

Marbled polecats prefer solitude. They spend time together only during the mating season.

In the article, Ukrainian zoologists refer to marbled polecats as the “occupied fauna”, i.e., animals that are not monitored by Ukrainian scientists. The scientific establishments, where the animal was safeguarded, are currently occupied, and the animal often shows up where there is active fighting.

Animals frequently play dead in the face of danger, a phenomenon known as apparent death. The most likely explanation is that predators are drawn to moving objects, and something that shows no signs of life will not draw their interest. However, some animals exhibit this behavior for different kinds of reasons. Certain snakes can wait for prey, whereas ants do so to avoid conflict.

Snakes, fish, insects, and mammals all pretend to be dead. For instance, possums. “Playing possum” means pretending to be dead or sleeping so that someone will not annoy or attack you. The black-footed ferret, skunk, and weasel can all do this. And the marbled polecat is an expert at playing the role of the dead.

But first, the marbled polecat will try other methods. When it detects danger, it stands on its hind legs and flashes its bright colors, which serve as a warning signal throughout the animal kingdom. In addition, the marbled polecat has special anal glands that can secrete a pungent odor. It also does this when it pretends to be dead or when it feels threatened.

Broken plans 

Volodymyr continues, “The girls placed the marbled polecat in a rabbit cage in an abandoned apartment that was cluttered with stuff.

I went to Lysychansk via Kreminna is a town in the Luhansk region, close to Lysychansk. Kreminna because I have family there. And I have a friend, Brian, from the US, who fell in love with Ukrainian forests and lived in Siverskodonetsk. I said, ‘Brian, can you give me a ride from Kreminna to Lysychansk? We need to pick up some rare animals, go to the forest, and release them. An hour there, an hour back…’ 

‘Don’t they stink?’

‘It’ll be fine.’ His wife was pregnant, and she was worried about the car being clean and her husband coming back as soon as possible.

I was going to vaccinate the marbled polecats against rabies, and I wanted to also take their paw prints and DNA material. But nope! It turned out that one of the marbled polecats had damaged the cage and gotten out. We spent three hours searching. We discovered it where half a brick had been broken off, behind the toilet. The animal curled up there, sleeping. We had to dismantle the toilet to get it out. Obviously, I was unable to do anything with the animals [vaccinate them and engage in research] because they were too frightened. We had to bring them to the forest, but I was bitten again.”

With its strong paws and long claws, the marbled polecat digs a spacious hole. Although when it is not in the mood to dig, it can sleep in someone else’s.

With the help of radio tracking, it was found that the marbled polecat covers up to one kilometer a day, rarely repeating its previous route and changing its den and territory of activity every 2-3 days. It spends time hunting, and when it is tired, it sleeps.

Temporary inconvenience

Volodymyr recalls, “When the marbled polecat bit me for the second time, I realized that I needed to get vaccinated against rabies.

Well, it’s 10 pm. We are going to an emergency room. They have no idea what the marbled polecat is there. And the rabies vaccine that was present contained six doses… Finally, they told me firmly that I needed to return for my next dose or find another vaccine from the same series.

They monitored me for two hours following the vaccination. Meanwhile, the marbled polecats were screaming. Plus, it smelled like there were skunks in the car.

Finally, when we went to release the animals, it was night . Brian brought me to Siverskodonetsk and said, ‘I’m not taking you to Kreminna, because my wife is waiting, but I’ll get you a taxi.’ And it was raining so heavily! Just a downpour! We also drove all over Siverskodonetsk in search of an ATM at two in the morning. We couldn’t see the road, there were streams of water everywhere.

In Kreminna, they quickly checked whether there was a batch of the vaccine I needed. And there was! So I got vaccinated there. And then I went home to Kharkiv and made 7 calls to get a referral for further vaccination. This is the twenty-first century, yet not everyone receives full vaccinations. People arrive on the first day, do not continue, and die from rabies.”

The boom of marbled polecats

Volodymyr elaborates, “In 2022-2023, there was a wave of mice in the trenches. At that time, there were many reports that marbled polecats were seen there. These are not very good stories, because these marbled polecats ended up in private hands. My colleagues from the NGO Ferret Galaxy and I called around to find out what the fate of the animals was. We were told that they were released. But it turned out that this was not always the case.

It happened that people realized that they could not keep a marbled polecat because it is a very special animal. Even though it appears adorable, it jumps at you, bites, and stinks. And then the animals get released. We know of two such cases.

This is the rarest species among mustelids. However, they are often captured.

Another marbled polecat I know of was in the Donetsk region. The animal was found near Kramatorsk is a city in the Donetsk region.Kramatorsk and was almost sold on the street. And then the man turned to Ferret Galaxy to consult about the maintenance of the animal… He swore that he had released the marbled polecat. But I don’t know if that really happened.” 

At the turn of the twentieth century, the marbled polecat was a common sight in the Azov steppes and on the territory of the modern Donetsk region. In the second half of the century, the animal began to die out.

The virgin steppe was plowed up more and more intensively, and cattle were grazed on what remained. The dogs that helped the shepherds herd their flocks caught wild animals in the steppes, including marbled polecats.

In the 1990s, scientists believed that only 100-150 marbled polecats remained in Ukraine. Gradually, cattle breeding in the East began to decline. And the predatory animal was seen more often. The revival of the marbled polecat began in 1998, as scientists later recorded. And since 2009, there has been a boom in the number of marbled polecats (if you can even call it that, given there have only been 29 of them identified over 43 years).

In 2010, a fight between two males was seen in Pryazovia is the geographic area of the north coast of the Sea of Azov, located in south-eastern Ukraine. Source: Wikipedia.Pryazovia, watched by another marbled polecat, probably a female. In 2016, a female was caught near Kramatorsk, which was a local sensation. According to the author of the study, 7 marbled polecats were found around Kramatorsk from 2016 to 2023.

In recent years, videos of marbled polecats from the trenches have been shared online. Last year, “a marble cat” was seen near a lake in Dnipro. And this year it was also spotted near Ukrainian military positions.

If you ever come across one, here’s a quick reminder: It is against the law in Ukraine to keep a Red List animal in captivity or to sell it.

The cover photo shows a marbled polecat at Magdeburg Zoo in Germany. Photo by Klaus Rudolph. Source: http://www.biolib.cz

Olena is described to me as a military woman who is “crazy about animals”. “She used to serve in our unit, and she always had animals with her. She took a lot of them home to Kyiv,” her brother-in-arms tells me. When I contact her, I am filled with surprise. It turns out that she is the Olena Bilozerska, who has been inspiring many with her bravery since 2014. Olena is a former journalist and a blogger. She first served as a sharpshooter in the The Right Sector Ukrainian Volunteer Corps was founded on July 17, 2014, as one of the volunteer battalions. It was created as a response to the rise of pro-russian separatism and the russian intervention in Donbas. (Adapted from Wikipedia)Right Sector Ukrainian Volunteer Corps. Later, she joined Ukraine’s Armed Forces after completing artillery training.

She loves poetry and painting, and she always has companion animals by her side. Many of them were rescued by the soldiers, and taken out of the war zone.

I spoke with Olena about the animals that accompany her on the front line and away from it.

Dogs on the front line

Are there any animals on the front line?

Yes, I have many stories about that. The most dramatic one is about a Cane Corso dog named Vasia. His human was part of the 503rd Separate Marine Battalion, where I was stationed at the time. The dog accompanied this guy everywhere, even in the trenches on duty. The dog even carried some stuff. One day, Vasia vanished. Soldiers were searching for him. They raised the drone and discovered something they’d rather not see. Vasia got into a trap. He became entangled in the wire near the trenches. It was nearly impossible to save him since you couldn’t slip in unnoticed. The recon guys were planning to evacuate the dog at night, but they did not manage to do it…

Because Vasia came back! He chewed off his paw and ran back on his three. He did not want to stay in captivity. He was sent to his human’s parents, and then I made Vasia famous by writing about his fate. His story got a lot of publicity, everyone admired him. Eventually, he received treatment and a prosthetic at the best clinic in Poland.

Does it happen that animals help you in combat missions?

In the fall of 2014, an old dog came to us in the village of Vodiane near the Donetsk airport. He went with our recon group on all the trips to the gray zone. Of course, we didn’t want to take the dog with us, so we shushed him away. He ran away at first, but then somehow knew which way we were going and waited for us at some crossroads. This dog ended up helping us a lot. He ran 20 meters ahead of the group and removed the tripwires. A human would have been, at the very least, seriously injured, but the dog was fine, because he is short compared to a human and runs fast. When he heard the “pop” of the detonator capsule, he managed to escape from the area hit by the debris 3-4 seconds before the explosion. So everyone was safe, both people and the dog.

How Efka was exchanged for F-1 grenades

You have a lot of photos of a red puppy. What’s the story here?

That’s Efka, the Belgian Shepherd mix. My friend and I found her beneath a kiosk along the highway in the summer of 2016. The guys named her Efka because when she was a small, round puppy, she resembled an F-1 grenade in her body form.

She went with us to the battlefield and was wounded. We rescued her as we would a wounded soldier. We drove her to the hospital at night, got a vet out of bed, took care of her, changed her bandages, and gave her injections… When I went on military duty, Efka had to be on a leash so that she wouldn’t run after me.

One day I was lying sick at our base near Mariupol, and my husband left early in the morning to go to another city to run some errands. Efka followed him to the bus stop. There he got on the bus and left, and she stayed there. He was sure that she would return to the base by herself.

By the next morning, she was gone. My husband and I went to that bus stop, asked people, put up posters — half the city was covered with them. We bought a battery-powered loudspeaker to drive around in the car and play announcements about our missing Efka… She was found three days later. Realizing that she was not going to get home, she followed people in military uniform and came with them to the military base of the Azov brigade. They left her there, and then they saw the poster and brought her. Of course, they didn’t want any money, but I gave them a few F-1 grenades for taking care of my Efka.

The silver one, the whiny one and the artillery one

And what about your relationship with cats?

The very first cat I had was called Vatnik, also called Komochok or Komtsia, a black kitten with a short broken tail. He was named Vatnik because in 2014, all the animals picked up in the Donetsk region were named either “Separ” refers to russian separatist troops in Ukraine, namely in the Donetsk and Luhansk regions. They were also known as russian proxy forces. This term carries a negative meaning and is commonly used to convey outrage, condemnation, or disapproval. (Adapted from Wikipedia)Separ or The word "Vatnik" refers to avid supporters of russian propaganda. (Adapted from Wikipedia)Vatnik. He arrived at the rear base and then accompanied me everywhere, including several advance bases (a few kilometers from the front line). When I went on military missions, he remained at these bases. He didn’t want to let me leave. When he noticed me getting ready to go, he grabbed my legs and yelled. When we were under fire, he’d drag me to safety by my leg. He went with me through many very dangerous places, but died on peaceful territory. He died after catching a poisoned rat. The rest of my pets are luckily still alive. 

A few months after Efka, Silver, a kitten of the Neva Masquerade breed, appeared. A soldier found him somewhere, and we took him. He was a very smart cat, but he was also sick.

Another dog, Shkavulik, grew up with the cat. In early December, a stray dog brought puppies to our basement. All nine of these puppies got sick with enteritis. On New Year’s Eve, my room at the base turned into a dog hospital. We managed to save only four of them. I decided to keep the smallest puppy.

I named him Shkavulik (in Ukrainian, “the whiny one”) since he was constantly crying pitifully. Shkavulik grew up with Silver, they adopted each other’s behaviors. Silver growled and tried to bark, Shkavulik chased after mice… And when other people’s cats came into the yard, the trio would chase them away. Efka and Shkavulik would chase the bird into a tree, and then Silver would climb up to deal with it.

All three of them, big Efka (weighing 30 kg), Shkavulik, and Silver, slept with me in my bed. There were rugs, but they wanted to sleep with me, and it was impossible to keep them away.

It was very difficult to feed them, because we were unpaid volunteers who did not have salaries. It got to the point where we had to take the other two dogs that came to our base and give them to other soldiers who lived better than we did.

Later, while I was an artillerywoman in the Ukrainian Marine Corps, I discovered a three-colored cat on a training site near Melitopol. I named him Busol (or Busia). Busol literally means “artillery compass”. She traveled with me to Exercise Sea Breeze, and there, American marines wanted to get her from me and take her to their ship. Busia is a Maine Coon mix. She weighs 6-7 kilograms. She’s also a really picky lady. She lets you pet her only when she wants to.

When the full-scale invasion exploded, the dogs, Efka and Shkavulik, were living with my father-in-law in the Cherkasy region. The cats, Silver, Busia and Kasia, were living at my home in Kyiv. I sent them to my father-in-law as well. When the war is over, I will take them back. In the meantime, they are growing up and getting older without me.

What do cats write in secret chats?

How do other soldiers behave towards your animals?

They are mostly animal lovers. However, there are people with different household habits. One of my now deceased brother-in-arms, for example, was a clean freak. We used to sleep on mattresses on the floor, and my dogs would go on those mattresses with their dirty paws after the rain. So many guys were grumbling about that, especially the one that loved cleaning. The animals and I even had to relocate to a different home. It was a risky maneuver because everything was taking place in a village on the front line that was frequently bombarded by the russian troops.

Do cats and dogs disrupt your work?

No, not in combat missions because we don’t take them directly into battle. And if they are in the trenches with us, they sneak away when it gets hot, as if they are not present. But when you work on a laptop, not even the greatest cat bed can match the excitement of a keyboard for cats. Their life revolves around lying on the keyboard. No amount of treats will distract them from their laptop. They don’t just lie there; they type messages in secret military chats, such as “trrrrrrrr” and “aaaaaa”.

When the commander reads this, he asks, “Have you been drinking there, or what?”. And among those reading this, there will definitely be a soldier who knows what’s going on. He will write plainly, “That’s the cat”.

I have also stories of cats running somewhere at night, and you take your rifle with a thermal imaging scope and go “hunting” for your own cat.

Can an animal somehow improve your mood or the mood of the people around you?

Oh, they’re experts at this Simply petting a cat or a dog makes you feel better. You kiss the fluffy one or the plushie-looking one on the forehead, one of them licks you, and you feel like you have something to live for.

A woman in a uniform gets out of a car. “You are early,” she says to me. She’s got soft features but looks confident and even strict. Meet Pilla Osborn, a dog behaviorist and the chief administrator at an animal shelter in the city of Tartu, Estonia. 

You can’t hear barking in the parking lot, as it would be in Ukraine. You can’t really tell that there are dogs’ enclosures behind the fence. The entrance is a clean glass door. To get inside, one has to call the administrator first. Usually, Pilla comes and brings a guest inside the shelter. 

Don’t you think that it’s easy to get an animal if you come to adopt! First, you have to pass Pilla’s test. 

Pilla Osborn told UAnimals media about the life of Estonian shelters, whether they rely on charitable donations, and how cat Tikku found a new family. She also explained why it’s not always easy to take good photos with friendly cats and what you need to do to adopt an animal from an Estonian shelter.

Stray animals in Estonia: 3 animal catchers for half of a country 

Is there a problem with stray animals in Estonia? 

Not so much with dogs. Most dogs have their people. Right now, basically, all the dogs in our shelter came from their owners, who gave them to us. But there is a problem with cats. We are doing a lot of spaying here, and we promote spaying and neutering. But we don’t see any dropping of levels that way. Somehow there are still cats wandering in the fields, countryside, bringing tons of young ones. All these animals end up here.

Who brings cats to the shelter? 

People are calling us when there is a situation. These cats are not friendly. If they get feral for a couple of generations, people usually can’t catch them. This is an animal catcher’s job. 

We use the traps for that. We haven’t used an animal capture gun for 7 years for sure. The gun works with dogs. You can’t use it with cats. Besides, we need to have a veterinarian. You have to guess the dog’s weight to know how much medication to put in that gun. The animal is far away from you. How much does it weigh? You can approximate, but you can’t know for sure. So it’s a life-and-death situation. Maybe you hit the animal in the wrong place. Maybe you put in too much of that medication. Because of that, we don’t use it at all. We do have one gun here, though.

What happens after you receive a call? 

We want to know everything from the person who called us: When they saw the animal, how often, and where the animal usually goes. That is so we can plan out catching ways or time. 

So animal catchers go on long trips to cover several places at once?

Yes, exactly. We have a schedule for that. Earlier calls get responded to earlier, and so on. The catchers work every day, and not just in Tartu. Every county needs to deal with the problem of stray animals, so they need to hire some shelter to do the work for them. Our shelter is prominent in Tartu County, but we are hired by half of the counties in Estonia. We have 3 catchers.

3 catchers for half of Estonia?

Exactly! We plan a lot. Even if the animal catcher is in a faraway county, we need to cover Tartu city first. We must respond to Tartu city calls in one hour because we have a contract with the city. 

Shelters in Estonia: How Do They Work?  

What happens to a cat when it comes to the shelter?

First, we have to see if the animal has a microchip. If so, we can call the owner immediately. They can come to pick the cat up. In Estonia, we can’t have any animals walking outside by themselves. If that is the case, we need to talk with the owner. That would be the best situation. 

If there’s no chip, we take pictures. We put it up on our webpage, and for the first 14 days, we need to wait for the previous owner to notice that animal on our webpage. By law, we need to keep the animal here for 14 days. 

A cat lives in a cage. Cats need to feel that no other cat can come into their territory. But the territory is small. It’s just that cage.

After 14 days, the cortisol levels are dropping. Cats get used to a cage life and surroundings, so they are not acting in defensive aggression. 

We have different rooms for cats. At first, they are in a quarantine room. If the cat doesn’t have a microchip, a veterinarian comes here and does the procedures: vaccinations, dewormer, and flea medication. After 14 days, if the cat is friendly and happy, it goes to get spaying/neutering in the clinic. 

The clinic needs to make sure that the cat doesn’t have FIV (feline immunodeficiency virus), which is like HIV for people. For that, they are taking blood. 

If the animal has FIV, this means euthanasia. Lots of stray cats in Estonia have that. Cats get it through bites in catfights. We don’t have any cure for that. On average a cat lives 6 to 7 years after that bite. It’s contagious to other cats. When the disease progresses, organs shut down one by one. With the blood test, you can say if it has it, but you can’t say how long it has had it. Before everything goes bad, we think it’s humane to do euthanasia.

If the cat doesn’t have the disease, we come and collect it. Then the animal is waiting for adoption. 

Dogs that had an owner, do not need all the veterinary procedures. The only thing is that we still have to wait 14 days, and then the dog can live in a shelter in a kennel until possible adoption. We have volunteers coming to walk the dogs. There’s volunteer schooling once a month.

How many animals are there in the shelter now?

Right now, we have 33 dogs, and the cats … exactly 100. So that’s 133 animals.

Is your shelter considered to be small or big in Estonia? 

I have no idea about other shelters. We are very transparent, but I know shelters that don’t even let you in. It’s hard to get the information. 

Who owns the shelter? 

Tartu City does. This is a municipal shelter.

Are there private shelters in Estonia?

There are some private shelters popping up here and there. People are trying to do the same thing we do in their living rooms. It’s not really in the law, what is a shelter and what isn’t. So any activist can start saving animals, hoping for donations. 

Was this place designed as a shelter?

Yes, it was. We have worked here since 2006. This building that we are in right now is a year old. Before that, we had a 4 square meters office here, which wasn’t built as a shelter. The city actually built that house.

Does a vet or a nurse work here?  

We have contracts with 2 veterinarians. One comes once a day. An animal caretaker from the shelter helps instead of a nurse. 

Do you receive donations?

We do need donations. The city does not pay for spaying and neutering. Donations are very important for veterinary care. My paycheck is from the government. The city needs to provide money for each animal for 14 days, and then we are all alone. This is when donations come in.

Who usually donates?

Ordinary people, who see our work and the passion that we are doing it with. 

Do you organize any fundraising campaigns? 

No, we feel really bad about it because everybody else is gathering money, mostly these independent pop-ups. They are also exploiting animals that are really sick. For example, an animal needs a heart transplant. It has to pull human strings. We believe that people are getting tired of all those “help me” things. So we try not to do that at all. We want to provide the best life for animals here, the best service to the community. We try to get specialists who want to learn more. So people see it all and donate with free will. And we try to make tomorrow a better day than yesterday was.

A Look Inside: Unneighbourly Dogs and Individualistic Cats

To get to the courtyard, we pass the staff room. The girls are having lunch, and next to them, there is a big red dog. They decided to give him some individual attention. He comes and licks me.

Each dog has a kennel in the yard. Pilla explains the nuances of choosing how to fit the dogs next to each other.

 “They live separately but the communication is still intense. So we have to see who fits next to whom.”

I know that time is of the essence here, so I move quickly. At one point, I start running with a camera to take a picture of a dog.

“Never, never run in a shelter!” Pilla stops me sternly.

Next, we go to the cat house. There are two rooms: one with larger cages and another with smaller cages. The one with the smaller cages houses cats following surgery. The other features a larger two-story residence.  

“Each cage is divided into two floors. Upstairs is the space for living and resting, and downstairs is the kitchen and the toilet in the other corner. Although the cage is relatively small, the cat feels safe, because no other cat will enter the territory. Only one cage is cleaned at a time. The cat is out for a little walk through the room. Usually, the cats jump on the windowsill and watch what the dogs are doing outside.”

Each cage has a card with a name and different markings. “On a diet” is written on one.

“Each card has a number on it. It’s an animal’s serial number. It indicates when the animal came to the shelter. We also often write ‘reserved’ here. It means that someone has already decided to take the animal home.”

I try to take pictures of the residents of the shelter in Tartu, but the cats turn away.

“The camera is like a big eye looking at them. So they can be uncomfortable. Friendly cats, shy cats would turn around and hide, but aggressive cats would stare at it and kind of attack it. So there are usually better pictures with aggressive cats.”

Next to the room with the cages, there is also a separate room with a cat den and photos of tigers on the walls. One or two cats who have been in the shelter the longest live here. The previous resident has just moved out, so now the next one is moving in, the one on a diet.

The kittens have a separate house. At the entrance, there is a sanitizer for both feet and hands. However, the kittens are not touched so that they do not catch diseases. On the wall, there is a board with kittens’ names and flags pinned to it. The kitty with the blue flag is sick, and the one with the yellow flag needs medication.

“I am a professional in dogs’ behavior,” Pilla says, “but I am an enthusiast in cat psychology. I am excited about them, and I even take work home! We have lots of kittens, and they are feral. I take kittens home to socialize them so they have individual attention, and I can turn them friendly so that they can find homes better. But I don’t get paid for that at all.”

How does your family react?

I have a dog and a cat. And I have a husband. My husband thought that he had not liked cats at all when we got married. That was 9 years ago. And now he is asking me, “Hey, which one are you bringing home tomorrow?” He is working from home. So I need to train him to train the kittens.

Tikku is leaving for a new home 

As we talk, an elderly couple comes to the office with a pet carrier. A big furry cat sits inside. 

Pilla makes some notes.

“This cat’s name is Tikku. He has been living with us for the longest time, since my birthday on November 26. He lived in a separate room.”

There were 2 outside cats in a summer home, Tikku and Takku. Both were brought here. People took them into an apartment. There they had a female cat. Catfights started happening because the people didn’t do the introduction perfectly. Fighting over the female cat, Takku got beaten up by Tikku, who’s a really big cat. The people didn’t want to deal with the fights. Today Tikku goes to a new home. The couple takes him. They have had cats before. It’s not their first visit here. If you want an animal, you have to come here multiple times to get to know each other.

Is that a rule?

Yes. From an animal’s point of view, it’s important. They haven’t been in your place, so it would be best if they knew you ahead. In that way they have a comfort person already. That is animal psychology that we are learning a lot about.

How does it work if someone wants to adopt an animal?

They come on visiting hours and tell us what cat or dog they are interested in. I’m walking with every person so I can read their energy and the animal’s energy and say if it is a good or a bad idea. I want to know everything about them. We can ask if they want an outside cat. Then we can say, “I’m sorry, we don’t give cats outside. It works the other way: We are taking cats from the streets.” I ask if they have other animals at home. There are some cats who don’t tolerate any other animals. They think they are the only cat on Earth. Maybe that cat is not right for you then. Do you have little kids at home? What is your daily schedule? How much time can you have with this animal? How can you help this animal to socialize better? When we put up dogs for adoption, sometimes there are several candidates. We even decide who will take the dog. It’s a lot of paperwork. But with cats, there’s nothing like that. Many people don’t want to deal with problems and just bring them back.                  

Does it happen that people return animals?

Exactly, for whatever reason. Taking an animal is not a fairytale. You need to go to the dog school. You need to be financially in a good place. You need to think about 15 years of the dog’s life being with you, not just take this puppy at random. Or giving animals as gifts. We don’t approve of it here.

When you handed Tikku over, you crossed something out on a piece of paper over there, on the wall. It looks like a detective board! 

We do an advertisement on our webpage. We put pictures there, and Tikku’s picture had been there for the longest time. Since they have been there for so long, we promote them to get to new homes. We know more about them, and we make little stories about them. Maybe people can see something that pulls at their heartstrings and think, “This cat is for me.” I’m crossing over whoever goes home.

It seems to me that everyone is crossed out, right?

Not yet, but most of the cats are! 

The bus depot in the village of Bilohorodka was rarely in use. No one could say for sure when a van covered in brightly colored fabric appeared there. It seemed to be a circus van. It was heavily rusted. There was a bucket next to it, and someone had poured some sawdust on the bottom of the load space.

Once close to the van, a surprise awaits: Two bears are sitting in the back, each locked in a rusty cage about a square meter in size. The cages could barely fit the animals themselves.

This is exactly what animal rights activists saw when they arrived in the village of Bilohorodka in the Kyiv region in 2015. The owner introduced them to his “stars” — bears Yulia and Zoya. The animals worked in the entertainment industry, and after each performance, the bears used to get back to their cramped cages.

What happened to Yulia and Zoya next? How did the circus life affect the mental health of these animals? In this article, we are looking for answers to questions about the lives of Yulia and Zoya in particular and circus bears in general.

How and where did animal rights activists first encounter Yulia and Zoya? 

“I remember that day very well. It was June. There was a truck at the depot, not a very big one, more like a food truck. The cages were small, so they stood side by side in this van. The owner was also there. It seemed that he was a handler, but it was not clear. He didn’t tell us much,” recalls Taras Boiko, director at FOUR PAWS Ukraine. The organization still has the bear owner’s phone number, but the only thing you can hear by dialing it is “This number is out of service.”

It is not known for certain whether someone noticed the bears and informed animal activists or whether the owner himself contacted them. At the time, an expert on bear behavior, Maryna Shkvyria, was working as a consultant for FOUR PAWS, which supported a bear shelter in the village of Berezivka (Zhytomyr region). “I got a call from Yana Renk, an animal rights activist,” Maryna recalls. “Yana is no longer alive. She was killed by russians in the first days of the full-scale war. She told me about the van with the bears. She said the owner was willing to give them away. I took a taxi there, took a picture, and sent it to the organization’s management. They got it and replied, ‘Let’s take them.’”

Then FOUR PAWS staff came to Bilohorodka and signed an agreement with the owner to transfer the animals under their care. One of the signatures belonged to Taras Boiko, who recalls the words of Yulia and Zoya’s former owner. He was a young man, and he told Taras, “I can’t keep them anymore. They are of little use because they are old and sick. So take them away.”

The bears were loaded into transportation cages and brought to Berezivka. In 10 days, the enclosures were prepared, and the bears were eventually able to go there.

Four years later, Zoya and Yulia were relocated to the BEAR SANCTUARY Domazhyr, where they live today.

What was the state of the bears’ health?

Back in Berezivka, Zoya had many of her teeth removed, which had been previously damaged, as she ground them against the bars. Yulia had similar issues, so she also had to have her teeth treated.

Zoya was diagnosed with a whole set of problems: liver cirrhosis, bladder inflammation, a broken finger and claw, severe neurological disorder, and epileptic seizures. In addition, they found out that the bear was almost blind.

Both bears exhibited pathological behavior. They had severe stereotypic behavior.

“Yulia shifts from paw to paw and shakes her head,” says Olya Fedoriv, marketing manager at the BEAR SANCTUARY Domazhyr. “When visitors see this, they are happy that ‘the bear is dancing’. It is important to emphasize that this is a sign of stress, and it is not fun at all.”

Animals often respond to stress by making repetitive movements. Something similar happens to people. When nervous, some unconsciously twiddle their thumbs, some bite their nails or pencils, some rock from side to side. People with autism can repeat monotonous movements under stress. This is called stereotypic behavior. It also occurs in animals living in poor environments and cramped conditions. An animal starts walking in a circle, moving back and forth along the fence, shaking its head, or scratching itself. An elephant, a horse, a bear, a wolf, or a parrot can behave like this. When an animal has something to distract it, the behavior may not interfere with its life. The situation is different when it lives in a confined space and its days are filled with absolutely nothing. In this case, an animal can fixate on this behavior, often to the point of harming itself or ignoring other stimuli. Even when such an animal has a choice of what to do, it will not immediately overcome stereotypic behavior.

It may take a long time for an animal to give up its obsessive behavior and, for example, go exploring the enclosure.

It is usually not possible to completely overcome stereotypic behavior, especially in older animals. However, experts try to at least reduce its manifestations. For this purpose, they use so-called enrichment enclosures. There are special toys that stimulate the animals’ curiosity, make them move, and distract them from the behavior.

Olya Fedoriv shares what enriches the enclosures at Domazhyr, “We have a wooden box inside which an animal caretaker puts food. The bear has a very developed sense of smell. It smells the food and tries to get it. Bears do not break the box. They try to interact with the toy and eventually realize which board needs to be moved to get the food out. There is a wooden drum with a hole on top where an animal caretaker puts the food. The bear knows that he has to spin the drum and put his paw inside to get the food out.

There are bars to climb on, and some can be laid down on. And there are those on which food is laid out, and bears have to get it out. There are wooden balls, and animals love to play with them. If someone shows a strong manifestation of stereotypic behavior, animal caretakers react by throwing nuts with honey to the bears. The bear catches the smell, gets distracted, and goes looking for the nuts.”

What other circus animals have ever lived at Domazhyr? 

Even before Zoya and Yulia, a circus bear named Khrystyna lived in Domazhyr. She had been one of the first residents of the sanctuary. She is no longer there. Khrystyna died last year. However, it’s important to tell her story. Her autopsy showed many severe chronic diseases.

Khrystyna was a Himalayan brown bear. She had beautiful sandy fur. “This subspecies is used in the circus because the bears are small and compact. They are easier to transport and control,” explains Natalia Halayko.

Khrystyna was seized from her owner in August 2017. Natalia recalls, “The bear lived in a traveling circus. The owner traveled all over Ukraine. He transported neglected Khrystyna in a cramped cage. He would put skirts and all kinds of other outfits on her, and she would perform circus tricks. There is a village called Ivano-Frankove not far from us, and he came there with a performance. Back then, the ban on keeping wild animals in traveling circuses was in place. Animal activists, together with the police, seized the bear.”

There was an inflamed area on the animal’s neck, completely without fur, a place from which the collar had not been removed for years. Khrystyna was diagnosed with many chronic diseases. She suffered from arthritis, arthrosis, and had a severe stereotypic behaviour. Khrystyna had glaucoma in one eye, which had to be removed. The bear’s teeth had deteriorated, so the staff bought food for her that she was able to chew.

Khrystyna got used to her enclosure well. She loved to swim and bask in the sun. However, her chronic illnesses still bothered her. Two years ago, Khrystyna began to get very sick and was suffering a lot. At Domazhyr, it was decided to euthanize her. Khrystyna was 27 years old.

Why do circus animals have so many diseases?

When bears are kept in private animal collections, most owners cannot provide adequate nutrition, explains Natalia Halayko, deputy director of the BEAR SANCTUARY Domazhyr. The animals live in cramped cages, and their sedentary lifestyle is harmful to the musculoskeletal system. A circus animal is under constant stress: bright lights, lots of people, noise, applause, music, lots of smells.

Natalia Halayko explains, “It is clear that the bears from circuses were abused in their places of living. They have serious problems with vision, hearing, and severe stereotypic behavior.”

Sometimes in circuses or hunting stations, animals are harmed deliberately. Domazhyr staff does not recall any cases when someone was caught in the act, however, such abuse is clear from the conclusions of veterinarians who examined the bears. Natalia tells us, “Our Zoya is blind. Veterinarians assume that the bear could have been blinded on purpose so that it would not react to bright light. For example, sometimes animals are beaten with sticks on the cervical spine, which disrupts innervation. If we compare the health of a circus bear and an animal that was simply kept in a cage, the health of circus animals is much worse.”

It is not so easy to find out how an animal actually lived before it came to the rehabilitation center. “If an animal is forcibly seized, it is often not even possible to meet the owners, let alone learn in detail about the animal’s life. The owners do not always show up for a removal procedure. Sometimes they say, ‘You can come, and a representative will be there.’ We take the animal and that’s it.”

Bears used in the entertainment industry do not hibernate. This also affects the bear’s health. The processes in its body do not happen in a way that is natural for the species. “In the wild, it can happen that a bear does not finish eating and then does not go to sleep. But this is very rare. Next year, such a bear can go to sleep for the winter. However, in captivity, bears have no choice. They simply are not allowed to sleep year after year. Physiological processes are disrupted. During the winter sleep, the skin on the paws should regenerate, and fat should be burned off little by little until spring. But none of this happens.

In winter, bears don’t eat anything in the wild. In the spring, the animal eats a little, then the mating season begins and it loses weight. The bear starts eating a lot in August. By winter, the animal can increase its weight by up to 40%. In captivity, everything is different. Zoya and Yulia were very thin, and sometimes bears in captivity are overfed, and this also harms them.”

How have Zoya and Yulia settled in at Domazhyr?

Zoya’s enclosure is designed to allow her to move freely. She lives alone. It is dangerous to place her with others. The bears may fight, and this is a big risk for a blind bear.

Yulia is a totally different case. Two years ago, she was transferred from the adaptation enclosure to a big one. Bears Mania and Kvitka live in the neighboring one. “Perhaps Yulia will be able to socialize and live in a large enclosure with Mania and Kvitka,” Natalia hopes. “Mania and Kvitka also used to live separately. Now they eat together and sleep together. As for the relationship between them and Yulia, there are better days and worse ones. We hope that they will become friends. This is the fourth year of socialization. We are taking baby steps.

Socializing bears sometimes takes years. If successful, they live together. This improves their quality of life.”

Does a bear have a personality?

Of course, and what a personality it is! “The bears’ personalities are very different,” says Olya Fedoriv. “Some of our bears are very calm. They walk around slowly, and they are in no hurry. There are also active ones that run around from the early morning, then take a little nap in the afternoon, and then run and play again.”

Zoya is a sensible lady. She enjoys sniffing everything and often lifts her head up to smell the air. Yulia loves to play with the enrichments and demonstrates bizarre poses. Olya Fedoriv even created a special series of posts on social media called Yoga Poses by Yulia. The bear is especially fond of a log suspended on chains. Olya says, “She lays down under the log and starts shaking it with her four paws! Or she likes to sit in the pool. She sits there for a long time. She likes to put her face in the water, and only her eyes are visible. I call her ‘a crocodile’.”

Everyone in Domazhyr has their own preferences. For example, bear Masha is known for her love of tomatoes, and bear Potap loves fish. Zoya’s favorite food is bananas. Yulia is not a picky eater — she likes everything.

How does a bear mind work?

Natalia Halayko explains, “The bear’s intelligence is somewhere on the level of a dog.

The bear has a very good memory. 80% of the bear’s diet consists of plants, so they need to move through bushes where there may be berries or other food. So they create their own routes. Bears think over where to go for food.

Bears raise their cubs very attentively for two or three years. A bear can take in another bear cub if it is an orphan. It happens that a young bear gives birth to cubs and cannot teach them all the skills, then an older bear can take them away.

We went to the Carpathian Mountains and talked to local people. They told us that a bear, having noticed hunters, can go backwards to put tracks in the wrong direction and deceive people. These are truly animals able to think carefully.”

Scientists caution against attributing human traits to an animal. However, this does not mean that a bear feels good in a cage. The discomfort of an animal living in a cramped and poor environment is not only in restrictions of its movement. In such conditions, an animal has little sensory load, and in simple terms, it is terribly bored. This is especially true for animals with high intelligence. And bears are definitely among them.

The enrichment of the enclosures at Domazhyr is both to distract bears from the stereotypic behavior and to allow them some mental gymnastics. They even eat with special mannerism. They have their own ways of savoring their favorite food. Olha shares her observations, “We give them oranges. I’ve noticed more than once that they eat all the flesh and leave the peel. Once we brought watermelons. They pressed lightly from above, the watermelon cracked, they opened it, and ate the inside part. They do not swallow everything at once. They even put an apple on their paw and eat a little bit. However, the bear bites on it two or three times, and the apple is gone.”

What happens after rehabilitation and socialization of bears?

People often ask why the bears are not released from the rehabilitation center into the wild, Natalia says. “There are centers that take care of cubs from the wild, whose mothers have died, for example. They are taught to survive without direct human contact. If an animal is born in captivity and is used to humans, it is a huge risk. Perhaps the bear will cope in the wild. However, it will approach people, and that does not always end well.”

The bears that come to Domazhyr will live here for the rest of their lives. They are to some extent protecting their relatives in captivity. At the sanctuary, people can see bears in conditions close to nature and listen to stories about their fate. After that, it is unlikely that these visitors will have the desire to lock such an animal in a cage, put a skirt or a collar on it.

This should have been a place filled with children’s laughter, the sound of a ball bouncing on the floor, and the teacher’s whistle stopping running exercises. Instead, for four consecutive days, veterinary consultations, procedures, and surgeries were taking place here. This is a school gymnasium in Vozdvyzhivska hromada (a basic unit of administrative division in Ukraine), where the UAnimals team temporarily set up a “veterinary clinic”. 

Medical help is provided not only to stray cats and dogs but also to animals from local residents. People from the hromada bring their pets for check-ups and consultations.

Roman Bidnenko, an animal catcher, is responsible for catching as many stray animals as the vets can provide medical care for. Moreover, during this mission, Roman managed to find a family for some stray puppies.

The family adopted the puppy after she was spayed, treated for parasites, vaccinated, and microchipped. This medical help was provided to all animals that came into the UAnimals “veterinary clinic” set up in the school gymnasium. The only exceptions were tiny kittens and puppies that were too young to get spayed or neutered. 

Some animals require treatment, and others need surgery.

In total, 379 animals received medical help.

What comes to mind when you think about a wild hamster? If you just imagined a Syrian hamster, which is often kept as a pet, you might get the wrong impression about its Ukrainian relative. It is a real giant among rodents, as the largest ones weigh more than a kilogram!

The European, black-bellied hamster, or common hamster, is a true fighter for a place in the sun. It will desperately chase away anyone who tries to cross its borders. However, the European hamster, despite its fiery character, is under the threat of extinction. It is marked by the International Union for Conservation of Nature Red List of Threatened Species as an endangered species.

The European hamster is fond of Ukrainian gardens, so many people think of it as a dangerous pest. “According to my estimate, more than a thousand hamsters are getting exterminated in Ukraine every year,” says zoologist Mykhailo Rusin. “Sometimes a video of a wild hamster will pop up on YouTube or TikTok. Half of the comments under it are something like ‘What a cutie’, and the other half: ‘This pest must be killed immediately’. When we write that it is a Red Data Book animal, the response is usually: ‘Then come and get your precious hamster out of my garden!’” That’s exactly what Mykhailo once did and founded the Hamster Rescue Center.

The team of experts actually catches wild hamsters in the area, provides them with medical treatment, and releases them into the wild. This initiative earned Mykhailo a special award at the 2024 Animal Protection Award by UAnimals.

Ready to throw hands

Does the European hamster have the behavioral features that other animals do not?

Yes, a defense stance. If a hamster is threatened by a person or animal, it stands on its hind legs and jumps at the perpetrator, trying to drive it away. This is a very characteristic behavior.

The hamster is a greedy animal. This is an adaptation technique to life in nature. It gathers food and stuffs it behind its cheeks, then brings it to the burrow and hits its cheeks, knocking it all out. When a hamster runs with stuffed cheeks, they are wider than its body. You know, it looks like a hammerhead shark with those big cheeks.

What does a wild hamster do during the day?

Hamsters can come out of their burrows during the day, but the main period of their activity is nighttime. Then the hamster gathers food and brings it into its burrow, into a special pantry. It eats plants, but it can also eat insects, even small mice or eggs of small birds.

By the way, the hamster never crawls into the soil, eating potatoes or carrots. This is done by completely different species.

What does the European hamster do in winter time?

Normally, it sleeps. It goes through a true hibernation. The body temperature drops to 8 degrees Celsius, and the heart slows down to one beat per minute. Like all species that are inactive in winter, the hamster puts on weight in the fall. It eats a lot to store fat. It also stores food in the pantry so that it has something to eat when it wakes up.

Aggressive dating strategy 

How do wild hamsters interact with each other?

They are true loners and do not form families. The male and female live separately, and they often beat and bite each other with their paws. A female can even kill a male — this frequently happens during mating. Although males are usually bigger, females are more aggressive and fight harder.

During their stay in our center, we always put them separately to prevent fights. If they are kept in groups, there is a high chance that only one will survive.

How do they react to other species?

Wild hamsters do not run from a fight. They get into their defense stance and start jumping to defend or attack. Sometimes, a hamster tries to chase away a dog or a cat in this way. Despite this, cats often kill hamsters, and this is a big problem.

Why do wild hamsters disappear? 

We have already mentioned that the wild hamster is endangered. How critical is the situation?

It is predicted that by 2050, hamsters as a species will simply disappear. This is based on a mathematical model built on birth and death rates. The hamster is a species that produces a lot of offspring. Under ideal conditions, a female is able to give birth to babies three times a year, and each litter can contain 6, 8, or even 10 hamsters.

This used to be the case, but in the last decade, litters have been produced only once a year. The number of babies in a litter is also decreasing.

In nature, the hamster does not care much about its offspring. The female usually leaves the young in about a month. At the same time, they have a high mortality rate, primarily due to predators.

If the modeled trend continues, scientists predict that the species may disappear completely.

Why is life getting worse for the wild hamster?

The climate is warming up, and winters are now less stable. Previously, the European hamster used to hibernate in November and sleep until March. Now it’s snowing, and on New Year’s Eve it’s raining, and then it’s snowing again… And the hamster goes to sleep and wakes up.

This is a very high energy expenditure. If the hamster is constantly in this change, the animal is exhausted. European hamsters often die during the thaw.

Wild hamsters are also threatened by many pesticides in the fields. The decline of small-scale farming also plays a role here. This is very important, as hamsters have always had plenty of high-calorie food in small gardens. Now, however, they are increasingly finding themselves in huge fields planted with a single crop. This is what the animal has to eat. However, according to research by French scientists, a mono-diet worsens a hamster’s health.

Do military actions affect hamsters?

I suppose so. There was a population of European hamsters northeast of Kharkiv. And it was through the area where the hamsters lived that the offensive took place in 2022. Everything there was dug up. There were trenches everywhere, and they became traps for animals.

The main thing is the human factor. Sometimes I see someone urging people to keep European hamsters at home. Such suggestions are criminal. Ukrainian laws prohibit keeping Red Data Book species at home.

Sometimes someone either buys European hamsters or offers to pay people for them at the center. This is such a shock to me! Red Book animals and plants should not be sold, ever, and to anyone.

I’ll just have a bite —the hamster’s motto

Why do hamsters go from the meadows to vegetable gardens?

They come there to eat. This creates a dangerous trap. On the one hand, hamsters like the fact that there is a lot of varied and tasty food there. On the other hand, people want to get rid of them, kill them, because they consider them pests. Moreover, cats and dogs also try to catch them. The Hamster Rescue Center exists to safely remove the European hamster from the human area.

Hamsters love berries, fruits, and vegetables. In the garden, they nibble on the vegetable and are not interested in the stem. They like to bite into sugar beets. They especially like strawberries. The wild hamster does not eat one strawberry completely but runs around and bites a piece off many berries. Sometimes it does it also with beets, zucchini, and cucumbers.

Once in the Rivne region, people saw a hamster and told us about it. They said that it didn’t really bother them. Until they saw how many strawberries had bite marks! We caught the hamster and relocated it.

Can it make a hole right in the garden?

Yes, but this is more common in places where people don’t walk much or where the yard is neglected. For example, elderly owners can’t weed out all the wild plants, and somewhere under a pear tree a hamster digs a hole. Or sometimes it looks for a place under a shed or under an outdoor toilet.

It’s quite easy to distinguish a European hamster’s burrow, but it takes some experience. Usually, it is a large hole. Often an entire arm can go into it. The tunnel goes either vertically downward or at a 45-degree angle. If it is a hole for winter, the depth is up to two meters. There may also be a mound, especially in early spring. If the hamster hibernates there, it clears the hole and takes out the soil. 

Note that hamsters never make surface horizontal passages. Those mean that moles or voles have been at work. Or even blind mole-rats, especially if it’s eastern or southern Ukraine.

How do people usually treat wild hamsters?

A woman from Kharkiv contacted us and asked what she should plant in her garden so that hamsters could live there! It seems that her neighbors had wild hamsters. She asked, “How can I make it so that I have more wild hamsters than them?” We agreed that she would grow alfalfa in half of her garden because wild hamsters love it. This story makes me quite happy.

The point is not in saving a few dozen hamsters from gardens but in gradually changing people’s attitudes towards animals. We want to move in the direction of having people treat them with more compassion.

From the garden into the wild

Let’s imagine that I see tiny bites on vegetables and realize I have a hamster in my garden. What should I do?

I would ask you to provide some proof. Show us a photo of the animal or a video on your phone. Sometimes people manage to film the hamster. But if a person has just seen a wild hamster and can adequately describe it, then we believe them.

If we find out that it is indeed a European hamster, we first persuade people not to kill it. And then we can go to their place. There we will try to catch the animal and release it somewhere away from people.

How can you catch a wild hamster?

It doesn’t look like an action movie. The hamster is nocturnal, so what do you do? Run around at night with night vision goggles? The hamster runs, and you chase it? It does not work like that. In the daytime, we inspect the area, find traces of vital activity, and then set up special live traps. If there are burrows, we set them near the burrows.

We put bait inside. The wild hamster does not miss anything tasty, and it will definitely get in there.

People without experience should not do this, even if they have good intentions. Hamsters can die. We have never had this happen because we are professionals.

There are all sorts of methods people use, like pouring water over the holes, but it’s just cruel.

Do you immediately put them in a box and take them away from people?

We transport them in a trap, as it serves like a cage. We try to release them where there are already wild hamsters so that the animal can find a mate. But we don’t do a “hard release”, when you just open the cage door, kick it under the butt, and move on! It may look good on video, as the animal runs beautifully away from the cage. However, this method cannot be used with a hamster.

If you release a bison or a wild boar, you just open the door for it and it goes away. No one can do anything to it. But literally everyone wants to kill or eat a hamster: birds of prey, ferrets, cats. In the new territory, the hamster is disoriented. We need to give it at least a minimal shelter so that it stays a little longer at the release site.

We make a hole about half a meter to a meter deep, put the hamster in it, put food in it, and cover the hole with something heavy. Recently, we have been using paving slabs that can be bought at a hardware store. We put a small supply of food inside, such as apples, carrots, and some grain.

Within a day, the wild hamster digs its way out and begins to explore the territory. In this way, we give the animal a chance to gain a foothold in a new area, as it will immediately have a shelter. Otherwise, it will simply run away, and all the work we have done will be in vain.

The Rehabilitation and Reintroduction Center for Rare Species in Kyiv Zoo is also trying to increase the population of the European hamster. Here, we breed hamsters according to a special program and then release them into the wild. The program has been in place since 2019.

Rehabilitation and Reintroduction Center for Rare Species 

How many wild hamsters live there now?

About 30. At first there were a few captured ones. Now there are only one or two hamsters from the wild there; all the rest were born in captivity.

Do you distinguish them somehow?

They are completely different. There are phlegmatic, calm ones, and very aggressive, even hysterical ones. The males try to spend as little energy as possible, you know, there are some lazy, fat males. Females are smaller and more anxious. Although there are also calm females and very aggressive males. One male bit me many times when I was examining him or weighing him.

Weren’t you wearing gloves?

They bite through any gloves! Their teeth are so sharp that they can even pierce special Kevlar animal handling gloves.

Aren’t you afraid to take them?

I am. Those incisors penetrate very deeply. There is a technique for taking wild hamsters as safely as possible. And even then, it happens that you can’t avoid being bitten. This is a problem when you work with animals: There is always a danger that you will be bitten or scratched. That’s why we don’t allow anyone to handle wild animals, except for those people who have been trained and instructed on that.

Where do hamsters from the Rehabilitation and Reintroduction Center for Rare Species end up?

We release them in the Tarutyns’kyj steppe in the Odesa region in cooperation with the organization Rewilding Ukraine. We have built enclosures for adaptation there.

Last year, we released a little over 20 animals into the wild. This year we will continue. We plan to release 50 hamsters into the steppe.

This year’s jury of the Ukrainian Animal Protection Award included several international experts, including Mark Randell, a former British detective and current animal crime investigator.

Mark served in the Sussex Police for more than 30 years, beginning as a patrol officer and later becoming a specialist in intelligence and covert operations. To collect evidence, Mark had to work closely with dangerous criminals and even to pretend to be one himself. Undercover, he investigated serious organized crimes such as murder, human trafficking, and illegal guns and drug trades. However, throughout his career, one category of crime remained largely unaddressed: crimes against animals. Upon retirement, Mark Randall began to investigate these crimes.

Mark founded Hidden-in-Sight, an organization that combats animal cruelty. Together with active police officers, media, and animal advocates, Mark continues his undercover operations. Does it make sense to dedicate time and resources to fighting crimes against animals when police officers have enough human problems? We talk about this and much more with Mark Randall.

“I can’t walk past an animal without talking to it” 

— Here’s a picture of Mark Rendall at the age of five. Who was that little friend of yours?

— This photo was probably taken by one of my two sisters. A little dog was a dachshund called Joe. I had him when I was five. He was one of my best friends, and we would get up to all sorts of mischief and bad behavior together. If anybody has a dachshund, you know that they are not always well-behaved. We were partners in crime. I once thought he would look better with stripes. So, he let me paint stripes on him with flour. We dug holes in my mom’s garden. We did everything together.

— Do you have any animals now?

— We have children, and I tend to look after their animals now. There are two rescued dogs here: Bonnie is from Bosnia, and Tatiana is from Romania. Bonnie is a dog that works things out, she is very intelligent. Tatiana is a bit crazy. Bonnie would be asleep on the bed because she is a princess, and the other one will be in the garden. They are so different. My daughter rescued them. 

— Do you feel a special connection with animals? 

— Absolutely. I like being around animals. I feel comfortable. I have conversations with them. Hopefully it’s mutual that we get on with each other. 

If I walk down the road and there’s a cat, I have to talk to the cat. I can’t ignore it. If there’s a dog or a horse, I have to spend some time with it. I can’t walk past an animal without talking to it. 

— What led you to work in animal crime investigations?

— When I ended policing, I wanted to work in this field because I loved animals, and I wanted to help them. 

Being a police officer should be about keeping vulnerable people safe and about protecting communities. When I started looking at those who were cruel to animals, I understood they were the same people who were involved in public crime that I’ve investigated as a police officer. They were sharing the same pathway, the same motivation. I didn’t understand why we [the police] treated crime against animals differently from crime against humans because there were the same criminals. 

It wasn’t that big a transition: I moved from being a police officer to explaining to other officers why animals are part of the community. So, when you are looking after a community, or a family, or a relationship, you need to look after everybody, and that includes animals. 

— In one of your previous interviews, you said that, as a police officer, you missed a lot by neglecting crimes against animals. What did you mean by that? 

— In 2007, I was investigating gunrunning and drug trafficking from the north to the south of England. The criminals who were bringing guns and cocaine were also involved in dogfighting. It was not part of that criminal business, probably they did it as a hobby. It’s much easier to do undercover work for dog fighting than to catch criminals with drugs. But we didn’t even look at the animal case. So, we never prosecuted them. We missed that opportunity.

How are animal and human abuse connected?

— I know you believe that those who hurt animals would be able to hurt people too. Could you explain why? 

— Criminals are generally lazy people, and they will find the easiest way to commit a crime. They don’t want to take too many risks. Abusers, who abuse people, will generally target the weakest within the group. They would possibly target a woman or a child in a household, but they would also target an animal. 

By harming an animal, they show people power and control. It can be a threat — they show people in the house what they can do to them. 

For example, an abuser could kill an animal, and that shows how violent he/she could be if people don’t do what they are told. It happens if somebody wants to sexually abuse a child, or a woman in a household.

Also, an animal could be a leverage. By abusing an animal, they say, “If you don’t let me do this, I will hurt your animal.” Abusers understand the relationship that we have with our pets, and they know how to have a major psychological impact on the caregiver. It could happen with a child, sometimes with an old person. You know, elderly people might only have their pets as company. 

Or it may happen as a part of traditional domestic abuse between husband and wife. It occurs on a regular basis in every country, as much as in Ukraine, in the UK as well. 

There’s a transition from those who hurt animals to those who hurt people. It doesn’t necessarily mean that they hurt animals first, and then they hurt people. They could hurt people and then animals. Or they could do it at the same time. If you understand how criminals and abusers work, you can prevent them from committing a crime in the first place. 

When you investigate a homicide, you can look at those who hurt animals in the past. Or if you have an animal crime reported to you, you need to take it seriously. If you know someone was hurting animals, particularly when he/she was young, that should indicate to you that there is an increased risk they are going to hurt people. You need to look at what danger that person poses to your community, and you can actually stop them from committing a crime in the future by recognizing that. 

It’s far better to prevent the murder rather than investigate it. It costs more money, more time, and more resources to investigate a homicide than to prevent it. 

— Last year, a court handled a case where a teenager cruelly killed a bird in front of his friends. The ruling required his mother to supervise him. In your view, was that a sufficient response? When we identify someone displaying animal abuse behavior, what steps can we take?

— Sending somebody to prison is only one aspect of criminal justice. 

An important part for me is that specialists could monitor a person identified as a danger to society. 

It may well be that there was a lack of education, etc. But if a person hurts many animals or does it in such a way that suggests that they can pose a danger to people around them, he/she could be monitored. There should be a system in place, people with the right expertise, and psychologists who can watch them in society. That can predict crimes happening. It’s all about understanding criminal psychology and understanding what happens next. 

Working undercover 

— Tell us about your undercover work. How does everything go? 

— There are different ways you can do that. With an organized crime group that I was involved in, you create a story around who you are, what your name is, and what your background is. 

You need to identify what that crime group needs. They want to sell you criminal products (guns or drugs, for example), so I would be a person they want to engage with. I would communicate with them to identify with drugs, guns, or dogs in dog fighting. They would tell me information, so I could go to prosecution or even to the media. I could do it myself, or I could work with a criminal who is motivated to talk about their criminal group. 

Some criminals like to tell everybody what they are doing, because that’s their motivation — to show who they are. And dog fighting is a good example. People like to talk about their abilities as dog fighters. So it’s not that difficult to infiltrate dogfighting. 

— You investigated dog fighting with the BBC in 2019, which became a big story. How did you get to the dogfighters? 

— On that occasion, I created a new identity. It’s not just about wearing glasses. It’s about being someone completely different whom they would want to talk to. I was an American from one of the seven states of America, where there’s a lot of dog fighting. I created lots of online identities. Then I would pretend that I want to buy a dog. I already have some good knowledge, and I want to buy their dogs. Then I need to talk about how important they are, talk about their work, and play to their ego. They are generally happy to tell you all about this, because they want to brag, and you use that. 

— Did you have to watch a real dog fight?

— No. When you work undercover, you have to try putting a delay in things because you can’t commit criminal acts yourself. You have to go quite close to a crime without committing one. When you are just about to commit a criminal act, you need to find a way for it not to happen. It’s difficult, but you should build a delay: Something happened in your family, or you have suddenly got caught, or you’ve been arrested. You have to say, “Sorry, I would have done it, but that and that has happened…”

But I’ve got them to send me live because, within the UK law, if I watch videos of dog fighting, that is not a criminal offence. On that occasion, I was allowed to watch it online. I got the information and the evidence I needed.

— Did you have to learn a lot about dog fighting? 

— The investigation took me 2.5 years. I spent a lot of time reading about stuff. Also, from a criminal perspective, not from an investigative perspective. Police officers don’t always see things the same way as criminals. They need to understand how criminals talk. All criminals have shared behaviors, and you have to know about them. 

— How did your family respond to your dangerous job?

— When you are working undercover, don’t let anybody know about your private life. If someone says, “What did you do over the weekend?” You might say, “Oh, I went shopping with my boyfriend, husband, my wife, and my children. You know, we went to the cinema…” You try to have a conversation without giving away any private information. 

I value that my family accepted what I’ve done. My youngest son is a police officer now. 

— Were you ever afraid?

— I did a lot of work on drug operations. I can think of one example, when I worked undercover. I was wearing a pair of jeans, and I had long hair at the time. There was a car, and I knew the passenger got a lot of drugs with him. As I walked past the car, I needed to seize the drugs. So I literally jumped into the car and grabbed the drugs. Because I’ve done it really quickly, there was no time to be afraid. Then I ran with the drugs, and we worked on the case.

When I was in a situation that was particularly difficult, I probably would be calm because that gives you time to think. I think it’s important to slow down and think things through.

I’ve been doing undercover work in quite dangerous prisons. I had to pretend to be a prisoner. It was a bit frightening. 

There was no animal investigation I’ve been scared of. I think if you treat animals with respect and you understand what they do, you shouldn’t get into a dangerous situation. People are slightly less predictable. 

— Did you carry a gun during investigations?

— No, I didn’t, as a police officer either. In the UK, police officers don’t carry guns. 

— Except for the dog fighting case, what other situations have you investigated for the media?

— My colleagues and I made a film about pheasant hunting. Although these birds do not naturally live in Britain, hunting them here is considered something of a traditional sport. Pheasants are specially bred on farms in other European countries. Their lives, at least at the time the film was made, began in horrific conditions. Then they were transported by ferry across the English Channel and released into British hunting estates, where they were easily shot by hunters, not for food but for entertainment. Around 35 million pheasants were killed in a single hunting season.

I worked for the League Against Cruel Sports. Together with my colleagues, we wanted to show people what was really happening, and that’s why in 2015 we made a documentary about the lives of these pheasants. It became part of an ongoing campaign against bird hunting.
That same year, due to public opinion, the ferry companies that transported the pheasants stopped doing so. Most likely, they agreed because going against public opinion would have been financially unwise.

In Hidden-in-Sight, we investigated how monkeys are kept as pets. We did this in collaboration with animal protection organizations Born Free Foundation and Four Paws. Animal welfare groups used our photos and information in their reports, and these images made it into the media and were even shown in the British Parliament.
As a result, last March, the country banned keeping monkeys as pets. However, all the planned measures (such as licensing owners) will only come into force in 2026.

Often, rather than going to court to get a good picture or good story, the media is just as powerful. 

“To keep your society safe, look at animal crime”

— Do you have any data on how many cases there are annually in the UK regarding animal crime? 

— This is very difficult to answer because the reports of cruelty are very different from prosecutions, and data is not very reliable. In 2021, there were 400 prosecutions. In the first 6 months of 2024, there were 44,800 reports, but they may not all be crimes. 

— Was anyone put in prison?

— Yes, the first 5-year sentence was given to dog fighters last year. There have been quite a few criminals who will go to jail for animal cruelty. 

— How would you describe the global state of animal crime prosecution from your perspective?

— Most countries have similar situations. We have charities that fight crimes against animals in the UK, but getting the police officers interested is difficult. I don’t think any country is doing it really well. 

Different prosecutors, politicians, and police are starting to understand that taking animal crime seriously is really important. Since 2016, the FBI has recognized animal abuse as one of the offences which has to be reported to the national database. Some countries are starting to recognize it. France is training police officers. I am training in Greece. I was training in Kosovo for Christmas. 

Gradually, there are more and more police officers who understand that animal cruelty is rarely an offence which happens in isolation. It’s quite often a part of all types of crime. Criminals cross over all these boundaries. I think police officers understand more: They have to deal with all crimes properly. If you are a police officer who wants to keep your society safe, you absolutely need to look at animal crime. 

The grumpy hen Baba Zina, the dogs Romka and Hraf, Mike and Gina, the pig Dusia, and the goat Marta live in shelters or with families across Ukraine. Most likely, these, and thousands of others, animals would not have survived if they hadn’t been taken in, evacuated, or treated in time by the people honored by UAnimals at the Animal Protection Award. 

These people experience every layer of society’s attitude toward animals on a daily basis. They know how often indifference is intertwined with compassion in the story of an animal.

We asked them about the moments that left the strongest impressions on them, and here’s what they’ve told us.

“No one expected he would survive” 

Anastasiia Klimniuk, the founder and the head of Animal House Rescue NGO

Kharkiv/Poltava region

This memory is from February 26, 2022. Animal food was hard to come by in Kharkiv. You couldn’t buy natural food, and all pet stores were closed. A warehouse with pet supplies opened in a garage. We were in a queue for dog food with 60 other people. It was a moment I’ll never forget. A man approached us with a cat in a carrier. His house had been destroyed, his wife had evacuated. He decided to go defend the country and had nowhere to leave the cat. He asked the people if anyone could take the cat in. No one responded. My husband and I exchanged glances and almost instantly decided to take the cat. That’s how we started taking in animals.

Later, we found out that the cat belonged to that man’s son. He and his wife had just had a baby, who was just two weeks old when the war began. So they decided to leave the cat with the grandparents for a month. When the man came to that line, the young parents were under russian occupation. Later, I received a message from them asking, “Do you still have our cat by any chance?” They sent me a photo of him as a kitten. So when we took him in, he was still very young. In 2022, the cat returned to his family.

There are examples of very caring attitudes toward animals in our area. Once, people saw a German shepherd lying near their yard. At first, they thought the dog was dead since he didn’t even move his ears. Eventually, they realized the dog was breathing. The people contacted us, and we took the animal to a veterinary clinic. There was very little hope of him surviving. The dog had no sensitivity in his body at all. An MRI showed a dislocation in his cervical spine.

When we picked the dog up at the clinic, he was already eating and going to the toilet on his own. The people who found him agreed to take in the dog with a disability and care for him. They named him Hraf. Now he can crawl, lie in a sphinx pose, and sit up for about 40 seconds, and he doesn’t need anyone’s help to eat. They built a wheelchair-like device so he is able to move around.

She fled on foot with a child and a puppy from shelling 

Olena Rusina, the head of Pegasus shelter

Malozakharyne, Dnipropetrovsk region

Recently, we were asked to go to a village because there was a large injured dog there. He had just appeared on the streets, even wearing a collar, but no one knew where he came from.

Local elderly women noticed him. These weren’t young people, skilled at using the Internet, yet they still tried to post his photo on social media to look for his family. The women even chipped in to buy parasite treatments for the dog.

We got a call after he got into a fight with another dog. We arrived and were met by these women, all with canes. These were civilized people who didn’t abandon the animal. They didn’t say, as often happens, “The dog’s lying around somewhere, go find him yourselves.” They followed our car, led us to the exact spot where the dog was. They cared for us, the volunteers. That was very heartwarming. The dog is still being treated and now lives at Pegasus shleter.

There was also a case when the offensive on Vovchansk began. Some people even fled on foot. A woman contacted us, asking if we could help provide shelter for a puppy. We didn’t want to, as our shelter was overcrowded. But it turned out this young woman was fleeing shelling on foot. She only took her child in a stroller. Just imagine the state she was in at that time! On the road, she saw a small, exhausted puppy. He was in the same circumstances as she was. The woman picked up the puppy and placed him at the bottom of the stroller! 

She made it to Dnipro, but didn’t abandon the puppy in the city. Then she contacted us, saying, “What do I do with a puppy and a child?” I posted the story on social media, and a family immediately responded and adopted the dog.

“Forgive me, Mike”

Serhii Ludenskyi, the founder and the head of Save Animals Ukraine NGO

Dnipro

Not long ago, I was asked to evacuate two Rottweilers from the frontline village of Oleksandropil in the Donetsk region. An elderly man was still living there, with a granddaughter waiting for him in Poland. The only issue was the dogs: two Rottweilers, 7-year-old Mike and 5-year-old Gina, lived in his yard. Traveling with such large dogs would have been difficult for the elderly man. It was because of them that he hadn’t left.

On the day of the evacuation, the elderly man arrived at his yard by bicycle. He had come from a small neighboring village, which was hit less often by artillery. A field behind his house was burning after a strike. All of this was happening under the thunderous sound of artillery.

The most heartbreaking moment was the man’s goodbye to his dogs. He hugged Mike’s head and said, “Forgive me, Mike. I have no choice.”

That video on my TikTok got a million views. I think many Ukrainians could relate to that pain.

We knew that Mike was aggressive. I had to climb onto the roof of the van and pull him up by the leash to get him inside.

The elderly man asked us to leave quickly, to avoid prolonging the goodbyes. So we did.

We brought the dogs to our shelter near Dnipro. It turned out that Mike was only aggressive toward other dogs. Both Rottweilers were soon taken in by lovely families. I’m very happy there are people who don’t abandon animals and others who are willing to take them in.

Two skeletons on chains

Tetiana Nelha, the founder of Zoofamily charity fund and shelter 

Pavlysh, Kirovohrad region

I always see both sides of the coin in how people treat animals, and it shocks me. I look at the soldiers, the rescuers who evacuate animals from combat zones while risking their own lives. They’re amazing. On the other hand, there are people in our area who don’t sterilize their pets, who cruelly dispose of puppies and kittens in trash bags at garbage dumps or in treelines. Some head into shelling to save animals; others kill them.

In our area there were people who would frequently leave their homes, abandoning their animals in chains and not feeding them. By law, we don’t have the right to enter someone else’s yard and take the animals. We had to push to get the police to go in with us and remove the dogs from their chains. These were already two skeletons. There’s currently an investigation against those people, so I can’t say more. I took the animals for treatment and rehabilitation at Zoofamily.

When a vet becomes an animal volunteer

Aliona Hrinnyk, the founder of Give a Paw YU NGO

Pivdennoukrainsk, Mykolaiv region

One day the phone rang, “Hello, I’m a veterinarian. I googled ‘volunteers Pivdennoukrainsk,’ and your number came up right away. I want to be useful, by giving advice at the very least.” It was Oleksandr Sokolov, who had relocated from Enerhodar. We met, and I immediately invited him to join our sterlization projects.

Before that, I had rented a house in the neighboring village of Kostiantynivka for animals to be housed temporarily. Well, calling it a house is generous; it was falling apart. There were walls, piles of trash, and grass up to our waists. My husband, my father, and I started fixing it up. People helped. Someone brought a bucket, someone brought a broom. A few volunteers came to clear weeds. We made sure the house was in order and set up a temporary place for animals to stay in. 

When Oleksandr arrived, with other volunteers, we chipped in to buy thread, anesthesia, and to set up an operating room. We began sterilizing stray cats and dogs there.

Time passed. I changed jobs, and our financial situation improved. We invested money, and in September 2024, we opened a clinic in the city.

There, we treat pets for a fee — to help strays, you need resources. Soldiers and internally displaced persons get discounts; some even get treatment free of charge. If an elderly woman comes with a pet, we treat it at a discount or free of charge. Plus, we do free spaying only of female cats so far. Our city has a shelter. By agreement, we operate on their dogs. Sometimes animals are brought in for treatment and we don’t charge for that. For strays under care of volunteers, we only charge the cost of materials.

We run campaigns for the free sterilization of strays. Our city is small, and there are more animals here than people. So we focus on sterilization. 

That village house now serves as a post-op recovery space and houses animals with disabilities. And Oleksandr Sokolov still works with me at the clinic.

“It wasn’t the shelling that killed them, it was hunger”

Alina Ostapenko, a member of Sumy Animal Home 

Sumy

I hardly remember life before the war. February 24, 2022, was a turning point in my mind. That’s when my real test as an animal rights defender began. It seemed that after the liberation of the Sumy region, life should have gotten easier, but then came the shelling of border areas and mandatory evacuations.

A year ago, in Yunakivka, a border village in the Sumy region, a local woman found eight dead dogs in different yards. It wasn’t the shelling that killed them, it was hunger. Most of the animals remained chained up until they died, unable to find even a scrap of food. All of them had been left there by people.

We had to go there to save the chained-up animals. On our first trip to the border area, we evacuated two dogs, Bruno and Alex, from Yunakivka.

Bruno’s survival was nothing but a miracle. We found him tied up in a yard where two other dogs already lay lifeless. Alex survived by eating raw corn.

After Alex and Bruno, we evacuated around 15 more dogs from Yunakivka.

Bruno is now at the shelter, and we’re still looking for a home for him. Alex found a loving family last year.

After meeting these dogs, we began actively evacuating animals from the border areas. Few people wanted to go to the villages of the Sumy region, so I decided to learn how to drive. That’s how a new chapter of spending weeks in remote shelled corners of the region began. Sadly, we couldn’t save them all.

In three years, we’ve found homes for about a thousand animals. No more abandoned animals is the result I strive for.

Neighbors so unalike

Olha Volkova, the head of Soul of a Tramp shelter 

Lupareve, Mykolaiv region 

This happened in the village of Lymany, before my trip to the Animal Protection Award. There, one woman poisoned about 20 dogs.

An acquaintance came to me and said, “Imagine, Olia, while you’re saving animals, this woman asked me, ‘Are you going to the city? Then buy me some rat poison, I didn’t have enough. I’ll poison the dogs.’” When I heard that, I went to the village. But the dogs were already dead, I couldn’t do anything. I saw the woman who poisoned them. I asked if she didn’t feel sorry for the dogs. She replied, “No. I poisoned them, and I’ll keep poisoning them.”

Olha has passed her testimony to the legal department of UAnimals and hopes to bring that woman to justice.

Roman Oleksandrovych, Baba Zina, Dusia, and the others

Viktoriia Zhydkova, the founder of Virnist animal protection society and of Human Rights Initiative NGO

Dobropillia, Donetsk region

In August 2019, my husband went to take out the trash. There was a bag with puppies in the dumpster. Only one was still alive, it was just two hours old. That’s when our fight for its life began. My husband made a special box for the puppy, basically, an artificial mom. We fed it by the clock, woke up at night. One time, my husband suddenly yelled, “Come here!” I thought something bad had happened. I came over and the puppy had opened the eyes. I’ve never seen my husband so happy. And now that dog is our famous Roman Oleksandrovych. Little Roma.

Another real act of humanity was when a whole chain of kindness worked together to rescue a farm in Udachne. I’m a vegetarian, and it was essential to me to save the farm, not to slaughter the animals. I wanted to create a shelter that would take in farm animals, and I shared the idea on social media.

That’s when a man from Udachne called me. He had a small farm. I must’ve asked him ten times, “Are you going to eat the animals?” He said no, and that their goose was 15 years old, the goats were 17…

Many people were involved in the farm’s evacuation. And now the animals from Udachne live at my shelter. We have Dusia the pig, who gives you her paw. There’s Marta the goat, she always greets you, bleats in her own way, and stretches out her front leg. There’s a chicken we call Baba Zina because she’s always grumpy. The moment you walk into the coop, she clucks as if to say, “You’re walking wrong, standing wrong, doing everything wrong.” Her beak won’t ever close. 

Kolia and the puppies 

Inna Borodulia — founder and the head of Happy Cat CSO

Zaporizhzhia

I work closely with a soldier named Slavik. He has evacuated a large number of animals and finds people to take them out of the combat zone. He pays for sterilization and treatment out of his own pocket. I’m actually about to head out to vaccinate puppies where he’s stationed. I’d love to take them all to the shelter, but that’s just not possible. To me, he’s a human with a capital H.

But I have another hero. Kolia, a tall, easy-going guy who works at a factory. Honestly, at first, I thought he wasn’t the brightest. But things aren’t always what they seem at first glance. The summer before last, Kolia found newborn puppies in a dumpster. Not afraid of the challenge, he took them in and raised them. All by himself! And this while working shifts at a demanding job! Every one of those puppies survived. He found homes for them all and kept one for himself. Ever since, I tell him, “Kolia, you’re my hero.”

***

After receiving their awards, the winners of the Animal Protection Award are quick to step out of the spotlight and return to their animals. At home, they change back into work clothes and roll up their sleeves. For three years of full-scale war, these people have been taking in dogs and cats, farm and wild animals, those evacuated from the front line or nearby areas, and sometimes they evacuate them on their own. That’s hundreds, sometimes thousands, of new animals each year. Animals keep arriving because the war continues. However, we can at least make sure these animal defenders don’t have even more work because of abandoned and mistreated pets left behind in safer regions of Ukraine.

Imagine: thousands of people in a grand hall holding their breath, their eyes focused on the stage.

The hosts finally open the envelope containing the winner’s name. After a pause that feels like an eternity, they finally announce, “And the award goes to…”

One more moment, and they will say your name. Get ready to step onto the stage and claim your prize. But wait… which award is it? Let’s find out in our quiz!

“Selling wild European hamsters.” I posted this ad on one of the country’s most popular online marketplaces, OLX. I promised healthy and active male and female hamsters. The European hamster is a species listed in Ukraine’s Red Data Book, so I set the price at a minimum of 800 hryvnias (~$20) “per piece.”

For half a day, the ad awaited moderation, but in the evening, it was rejected. This item was on the list of those prohibited for publication.

However, soon after, I made a second attempt. This time, I omitted the full scientific name of the species but provided a detailed description of my endangered fluffies. And just like that, the ad was approved.

I didn’t have a single hamster, and I had never even seen a wild hamster in my life. But if I had one, I could have easily violated the law. Yes, Ukrainian legislation does prohibit the sale of Red Data Book animals and plants. Despite this, such sales were, until recently, thriving openly on perhaps the country’s largest online marketplace platform. 

A Lynx on OLX

On September 7, 2023, near a shopping mall in the Obukhiv district outside Kyiv, two cars pulled up. A fashionably dressed woman and another woman with a notebook stepped out of one. From the other car, a man emerged holding a cat carrier.

— Did you bring the documents for the animal? — the woman with the notebook asked.

— Need documents? We’ll make them! Hold it in your hands, don’t be afraid!

The man took a small lynx out of the carrier and handed it to the stylishly dressed woman. Of course, she should hold it — to fall in love with it and finally decide to buy it! She had been considering it for two weeks. A wealthy young mother had responded to an OLX ad in which the man was offering a lynx. Her daughter had recently watched the “Mavka” cartoon and fallen in love with a character named Kvus, who resembled a lynx kitten. The girl desperately wanted a pet lynx. The man was asking $3,800 for the animal.

As soon as the mother took the lynx kitten, the police appeared. The animal was forcibly confiscated. The stylishly dressed woman was Marina Ivaniusko, a lawyer from the animal rights organization URSA. The organization’s founder Yaroslava Koba, who devised the sting operation, played the role of the assistant with the notebook.

“We asked whether it bites, what to feed it, whether it should be sterilized, how much space it needs. In messages, they assured us it was one of the easiest animals to keep, that it wouldn’t mind living in a house and eating cat food,” Yaroslava recalls.

The man claimed he bred adult lynxes with a male once a year and sold the offspring. The confiscated young lynx was underweight and had numerous health issues.

“It was impossible to go to their location and verify that they were breeding animals — they don’t disclose their address,” says Yaroslava. “At the man’s registered address, there were no lynxes. To track him and search the premises, a warrant is required, but in Ukraine, this is only considered an administrative offense, so no search warrant is issued.” As a result, the seller got off with a fine.

The lynx kitten was named Ursa. It is now undergoing rehabilitation at the Wild Animals Rescue Center in the Kyiv region. Efforts are being made to find it a shelter abroad where it can live in at least semi-wild conditions.

“When this lynx was confiscated, my phone didn’t stop ringing,” recalls lawyer Nina Arzamastseva, who provides legal support for crossing the border with animals. “Strange people were calling, asking if they could get the confiscated lynx back. I started asking them questions. In the end, I told them: forget about it.” 

Not Just the Big Ones

The law prohibits the sale and purchase of not only bears or big cats but even the smallest animal listed in the Red Data Book. That’s why I decided to start my experiment with a hamster.

However, the endangered wild hamster isn’t actually that small — it can weigh up to half a kilogram. It also has a habit of gnawing on everything in the vegetable garden, which is why people usually want to get rid of it.

At the Hamster Rescue Center, they urge people not to kill these animals but to report them to zoologists. Specialists then capture the hamster and relocate it to the wild. The head of the center, Mykhailo Rusin, has often been advised, “Pay people for the hamsters, and garden owners will be more willing to hand them over.” These advisors didn’t even realize the absurdity of their suggestion. And that wasn’t the strangest case. “There was an instance where some unknown individuals wanted to buy up hamsters for 2,000 hryvnias (~$50) each — who knows what for,” says Mykhailo. “We refused, and the matter ended there. But who knows? Maybe they found poachers willing to supply them with animals. We don’t know that.”

One of the most frequently listed Red Data Book animals on OLX were mustelids — ferrets and marbled polecats. Or maybe they were just the most documented cases since zoologists from the Rehabilitation and Care Center for Mustelids in Ukraine have been closely monitoring online marketplace websites over the past few years. Whenever they spotted an ad selling a rare animal, they would contact the sellers and negotiate persistently. The outcomes varied: sometimes, healthy animals were successfully returned to the wild; other times, cases ended in the animal’s death. Like this one did.

In 2020, in the Donetsk region, someone posted an ad for a “domestic ferret” they had found on the street. Experts came across the listing and immediately recognized the animal in the photo — not a ferret, but a rare marbled polecat. The Center’s staff began negotiations. At first, they asked the sellers to release the polecat back where they had found it, if it was healthy. The sellers refused, claiming the animal was limping. Eventually, they agreed to hand it over to a volunteer.

Vika Moiseyeva, director of the Rehabilitation and Care Center for Mustelids, recalls: “When they handed over the polecat, they demanded a ‘reward’ from the volunteer for ‘saving a rare animal.’ The volunteer immediately took the polecat to a vet. There were no issues with its legs, but it had a head wound. In the photos taken right after the animal was caught, there was no visible injury. The wound was a result of holding a wild animal in a space unsuitable for this species. In its attempts to escape the cage, the polecat had injured its forehead. The animal did not survive rehabilitation.”

In 2022, a steppe polecat ended up in private ownership in the Lviv region. The owner also listed it for sale. After a conversation with zoologists, he agreed to release the animal. However, things didn’t go as planned. It turned out that after months in captivity, the polecat’s health had deteriorated. All four of its canines — essential survival tools for ferrets — were broken.

“Most likely, it broke them itself on the cage bars while trying to escape. Later, it developed signs of epilepsy, so the little one had to remain in captivity,” says Viktoriya.

Some animals were successfully rewilded. In 2021, six European polecats that were put on sale in the Dnipropetrovsk region got lucky. The sellers handed them over with little resistance. Initially, though, there were seven polecats, but they gradually weakened, and one didn’t survive. The remaining six underwent rehabilitation and were released back into the forest.

A telling case occurred in the Volyn region in 2024. “We met a man who had ended up with five European polecats. He gladly handed them over for rehabilitation. As far as we know, the animals had been caught by a poacher who was trying to sell them through acquaintances. We released the polecats back into the wild. Later, the same man contacted us again — asking if he should buy an adult polecat from the poacher as well. We asked him to provide information about the poacher.” But that never materialized.

Buying a wild animal is just as much a crime as selling one. As long as there is demand, there will be supply.

Fish Too

Black caviar and sturgeon meat have become so popular worldwide that sturgeon species are now on the brink of extinction. According to the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN), sturgeons are currently the most endangered group of species among all such groups.

The Danube basin and the Black Sea remain the last places in Europe where sturgeon populations are self-sustaining, meaning new generations of fish continue to appear. Wild sturgeon fishing has been banned in all countries that have territory within the Danube basin and the Black Sea coastline.

Despite all laws and agreements, sturgeon continues to be traded illegally, with the Odesa region being one of the most active hubs for this trade. Between 2016 and 2023, the World Wildlife Fund (WWF) recorded 94 cases of illegal sale or purchase of wild sturgeon in Ukraine.

According to various documents analyzed by the WWF, more than 930 kilograms of sturgeon meat and over 50 kilograms of caviar were bought or sold during this period. However, the organization states that this is just the tip of the iceberg.

After the shelling of Odesa began, access to the Danube and Black Sea shores was restricted or even prohibited in some areas. Nevertheless, some people still manage to reach fishing spots — 12 such incidents were recorded in 2023.

There have even been cases where officials, whose duty it is to protect the fish, were involved in illegal fishing. In September 2022, police detained two employees of the State Agency for Fisheries. They had been extorting monthly payments from commercial fishers in exchange for allowing them to fish without interference. These officials permitted excessive catches, including of sturgeon. In return for catching beluga and starry sturgeon — both rare species — the men received 50% of the catch’s value as a bribe.

Is There a Legal Way to Buy a Red Data Book Animal?

Obtaining Red Data Book species for sale (e.g., capturing animals in the wild) is explicitly prohibited by Article 19 of the Law of Ukraine, “On the Red Data Book of Ukraine.”

The Code of Administrative Offenses also effectively prohibits the sale of endangered animals, though the wording might not be obvious to someone without a legal background. The relevant clause refers to the “violation of the procedure for acquiring or selling objects of the animal world” (Article 88-1). However, no such regulation (“procedure”) officially exists. There are, of course, regulations relating to the sale of animals, but they are scattered across various other provisions. In this case, this is the Law “On the Red Data Book of Ukraine” and certain international regulations. Anyone who sells or purchases a Red Data Book animal in Ukraine faces a fine ranging from 1,700 to 3,655 hryvnias (~$41 to ~$90) and the confiscation of the animal.

The sale and purchase of any Red Data Book species within Ukraine are strictly prohibited. However, in some cases, such an animal may be purchased abroad and imported into Ukraine.

The IUCN Red List compiles all species worldwide that are threatened or at risk of extinction.

The international trade in rare animals is regulated by an agreement known as CITES — the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora. This agreement includes three appendices listing species. Depending on an animal’s status, trade may be strictly regulated or completely prohibited. Appendix I contains all species threatened with extinction. Trade in these animals is banned, though it may be allowed in exceptional circumstances and for non-commercial purposes.

A CITES permit is required to transport a wild animal across a border. Without it, at the very least, the animal will be confiscated at the border.

In some European Union countries, rare animals can be legally bred and sold. In such cases, a Ukrainian citizen can purchase an animal by obtaining a CITES permit. Once in Ukraine, the animal must be registered with the State Environmental Inspectorate. According to lawyer Nina Arzamastseva, birds of prey — such as saker falcons and peregrine falcons — have been imported into Ukraine through this process.

There are breeders in Ukraine who legally breed exotic animals — those not part of the country’s native fauna and not listed in the Red Data Book of Ukraine, though they may still be protected by international law. At the same time, a black market for these species continues to thrive.

Middlemen sell animals from illegal breeding operations, where they are born and raised in completely unsuitable conditions, the lawyer explains. “I received information about a panther cub that died,” says Nina Arzamastseva. “It was kept in such terrible conditions by these traffickers that it never reached a healthy weight. Someone bought it, and the cub died in the buyer’s hands. These black-market breeders have even created a non-governmental organization that issues documents for animals of any species whatsoever. The middlemen refer their clients to this organization, which provides all the necessary paperwork — registration certificates, and various certificates of origin. But in reality, these documents have nothing to do with the animal’s true background. That’s what happened with this panther cub.”

Until about a year ago, the OLX marketplace was flooded with ads selling Red Data Book animals, according to Nina. The platform now enforces stricter controls on prohibited listings, but the illegal market remains active: “People are still creating Telegram channels for sales, closed-group chats — even for Red Data Book animals. Everything has just moved under the radar.”

Main image: Charitable Fund Ukrainian Rehabilitation and Care Center for Mustelids

Natalka is sitting on the porch of a village clubhouse in Novoosynove, Kharkiv region. The roar of the frontline echoes in the background. Smoke rises on the horizon.

“What are you doing now?” I ask.

“Preparing a solution. There’s a dog feeling unwell over there. We’ll give it an IV.”

A massive dark dog is sleeping in a cage under a birch tree. An IV is set up and hung from the tree’s lower branch. Nearby, cages hold animals awaiting surgery in the UAnimals veterinary vehicle.

We speak with Natalka during a UAnimals veterinary mission in the Kharkiv region, near Kupiansk, where veterinarians have long been absent. Here, Natalka and her team sterilize animals and provide medical assistance.

— The locals in Novoosynove seem to recognize you. This isn’t your first visit, is it?

— We were here in the summer, and people have gotten somewhat used to us. Back then, this place was much livelier: stores were open, and there were more residents. But since then, the situation has worsened. Fewer people remain, and the atmosphere has grown more somber. The store that used to operate now serves as a temporary shelter for animals.

— When you chose this profession, did you imagine your life would look like this?

— No, not at all! No veterinarian envisions their life this way!

My mother is a doctor, and I also considered a medical career. However, I didn’t want to work with people and chose veterinary medicine instead. Turns out, veterinarians often work more with people than with animals. There was a time when I doubted my life choices. I left university in my third year. Later, I returned with a clear purpose and have been dedicated to this profession ever since.

Nowadays, everyone does what they can. Through the Accessible Sterilization project, we can sterilize stray animals and vaccinate them against rabies. That’s what we do. The project’s goal is to make sterilization and rabies vaccination accessible for stray animals and pets belonging to low-income families. We also want people who take care of street animals to have the opportunity to sterilize them.

A long time ago, around 15 years ago, I began visiting animal shelters. At the time, I was working at a clinic and was invited to help at the Hostomel shelter. The conditions there were, to put it mildly, poor. I saw animals giving birth within the shelter because they weren’t sterilized. Many puppies and kittens had illnesses and died. That’s when I had the idea to make animal sterilization more accessible.

— Why sterilize stray or street animals?

— Many animals are born uncontrollably.

Why do we encounter cruelty toward animals? I believe the main problem is that there are too many of them. People commit various acts that degrade human dignity — like drowning kittens or puppies. Additionally, kittens, puppies, and mature animals get sick when there is no one to take care of them. It is an endless cycle of suffering.

There are no laws regulating animal reproduction. Often, people refuse to sterilize their pets. Usually, it’s an immature attitude. They claim to feel sorry for the animal but then go on to kill kittens or puppies. This is the cruelty we strive to curb.

— What does your work look like?

— My colleagues — Yuliya Tkachenko and Lolita Polishchuk — and I have a stationary office in Kyiv where we perform surgeries on animals a few times a month.

However, most of our work is done on our trips. We operate in frontline towns as well as in the Kyiv region. We perform surgeries in Novi Petrivtsi, north of Kyiv, and Ivankiv, near Chornobyl. There, we rent spaces and sterilize cats and dogs brought in by low-income residents. We invite people via various social media groups. We also assist the Sirius shelter, which is struggling financially and lacks a veterinarian.

— Do you remember your first field mission?

— We started operating in villages before the full-scale war. However, I distinctly recall one trip already during the invasion. We traveled north of Kyiv to Kukhari, a village by the Teteriv River. Our army was holding back the advance on Kyiv there. Tanks passed through the village, and a major battle took place. The village was completely destroyed — only chimneys remained standing. It looked like a scene from a World War II film. It was deeply disturbing. We worked in a clubhouse that a caretaker was trying to rebuild, even though his own house had also been destroyed.

When we arrived, it seemed like no one lived there anymore. The reception was scheduled for 10 a.m., and suddenly, people began appearing from all directions.

Despite their destroyed homes and shattered lives, they came to sterilize their animals!

Our first mission to a frontline area was to Lyman after its liberation. It was winter, and we worked in an abandoned veterinary clinic. Seeing it was heartbreaking because it had been someone’s business. [During the occupation], Russian forces used the clinic — they vandalized everything inside.

The city was in ruins. We watched as our military vehicles and soldiers moved toward the front line… but we didn’t see them returning. The rumbling was constant. The sky glowed orange. It felt as if there were some big millstones where the frontline was, grinding people.

— How do people usually react to your work when you visit them?

— Soldiers care a lot about the fate of animals. They ask us to evacuate them, treat them, and bring them in for sterilization. All those who have already been affected by serious military events understand why sterilization is necessary and why animals should be vaccinated against rabies. After all, they are the ones who feed these animals and take care of them. 

For example, in the Zaporizhzhia region, particularly in Orikhiv, there have been recorded cases of rabies, and there are many foxes. We traveled there to vaccinate animals from rabies, and many people willingly came forward to get vaccines. There’s no resistance — on the contrary, people are grateful for the opportunity to vaccinate their animals.

— And who’s this joining us?

— These are Lyman and Richie — my dogs. They work here with us.

Richie is a dog from Kukhari, that heavily devastated village we visited after the Kyiv region was liberated.

We collaborate with a volunteer there who is very committed to preventing stray puppies and kittens from being born. However, due to the full-scale war, she couldn’t keep up, and Richie was born. We had to take the puppies for rehoming, but I decided to keep Richie.

And it’s clear where Lyman comes from! He’s from Lyman.

We were going on a trip to collect puppies that a soldier had asked us to evacuate, but we accidentally went to the wrong checkpoint. We explained, “We’re here for the yellow puppies.” They brought out Lyman. He’s black! A tiny puppy with no teeth. We said, “We have nowhere to take him…” and they replied, “Take him, or he’ll die here.” So we brought him with us and had to bottle-feed him. I thought about putting him up for adoption, but this little dog made me feel happy. Now he’s with me.

— Do you feel your work is making a difference?

— In Ivankiv, where we systematically sterilize stray animals, there are no unsterilized strays left. In fact, there are very few animals on the streets altogether. There were even a few seasons when people couldn’t find kittens to adopt. That’s an excellent indicator.

We’ve been to Lyman three or four times, and we’re quite pleased with the results. Most of the dogs there now have ear tags, which means they’ve been sterilized.

I also feel that our work is not in vain when people say “thank you.”

“All night, I packed every crevice of the car with supplies and dog food. I was afraid to close the door in case it made too much noise. Outside, there was the crackle [of gunfire] and machine-gun bursts.” This is how Maryna from Kherson, the owner of eight dogs, prepared to leave the occupied territory. She had no intention of abandoning any of her animals.

NGOs often retrieve pets left behind by their owners in frontline areas — sometimes still tied up. Yet, some people are capable of heroic feats to keep their animals fed during the occupation and ensure they’re brought along when escaping. Which cases are more common? We can’t quantify it, but we can share a few stories of people who evacuated with their pets.

Escaping Occupation with Eight Dogs

A house in northern Portugal near a eucalyptus forest. Not long ago, it was uninhabitable, but Maryna Skrypnychenko and her husband have already made significant repairs. Their first task was fencing the yard to prevent their dogs — Yolkin, Yozhyk, Yoryk, Martyska, Mukha, Motya, Mysha, and Chucha — from running off. All of these dogs were once strays roaming around the outskirts of Kherson. One by one, Maryna took them in. But when the occupation began, her home city turned into a living hell. For her own safety, she needed to leave. With eight dogs, though? Here is how she did it.

A House Outside the City

We had a large, beautiful home near Kherson on the banks of the Inhulets River. I organized yoga seminars and art plein-airs there. It was truly a bright, welcoming place. This winter, it served as a shelter for our soldiers.

Recently, we learned that our home no longer exists: it took a direct hit and burned down.

Living on the outskirts of the city, I often saw packs of stray puppies, and I would take in the weakest ones. I first adopted one dog, then another, and eventually, I ended up with eight. My husband built them kennels and enclosures, and they had everything they needed.

A Month in the Basement

When the war began, russian forces immediately entered Kherson. My husband, a sailor, was away on a voyage. I took my mother from Kherson, thinking it would be safer outside the city. But on the very first day, we had to move into the basement. We didn’t know it yet, but missiles and drones were already overhead… And so we spent a month in that basement with the dogs.

They reacted badly to everything. They were terrified of explosions and still hate loud noises to this day.

About a week into the occupation, I saw russian paratroopers — they seemed to emerge from the ground. In full gear — it looked like something out of a movie! One of them asked, “Why haven’t you left?” I was too scared to respond. Then he said, “Get back in the basement and stay there.”

Neighbors gave me some fish, which I boiled and fed to my dogs, both the house pets and the strays outside. Now, my dogs refuse to eat fish at all.

Sometimes, I would go to a neighbor for eggs. Once, I pretended to be going for eggs again but actually went to spray-paint something on a garage. I called a friend to talk with me on the phone — if they shot me, at least she’d hear it. My first canister ran out, so I pulled out another and finished writing: “russians, go f*** yourselves.”

The Departure

The invaders had taken vehicles from everyone in the area. My car survived only because the garage was part of the house, and they hadn’t realized it was there. But if I wanted to leave, I’d need to get the car out without drawing attention. I hesitated for fear they’d seize it, as they had others.

A friend found a farmer who was trying to protect his fields and had managed to negotiate a work permit with them. He called and told me, “Be ready.” All night, I packed every crevice of the car with supplies and dog food. I was afraid to close the door in case it made too much noise. Outside, there was the crackle [of gunfire] and machine-gun bursts. Who or what they were shooting at, I had no idea.

Around six in the morning, the farmer called again, “Pull out of the garage but don’t open the gate. Wait until you see an armored vehicle with the letter Z, then open it.”

The farmer somehow persuaded the invaders to send an armored vehicle to the dacha [summer house] neighborhood, supposedly to “pacify” the soldiers who were causing destruction everywhere. When the personnel carrier arrived on my street, he called again, “Go now.”

By then, I had collected all eight dogs. Half of them had never been inside a car before. I stuffed them in, layered blankets on the back seat, and my mother lay across them because there was no room to sit. The dogs, frightened, sat still and quiet.

It was “fun”… I drove through twelve invader checkpoints! At each one, the soldiers inspected the cars. As I approached a checkpoint, I rolled down the windows. Eight snouts would immediately stick out, and the invaders would just say, “Get the f**k out of here.”

I reached Kherson. By a supermarket, women with children would gather each day in cars to form a convoy — it was less frightening to travel together. I joined the convoy. As soon as we left Kherson, we got stuck; a battle was underway, so we couldn’t move. There were about 200–300 cars, full of children and dogs… Eventually, the entire convoy turned back.

But I thought, “To hell with it. If I die, so be it.” And I went on.

It took us twelve hours to reach Koblevo — a drive that would normally take two and a half hours.

The dogs sat quietly like mice in the car. Only in Koblevo did I let them out for the first time… But I was still scared; there were explosions even there. Well, it was insane. No romance to it at all!

To Portugal With Plywood for a Window

At the customs checkpoint on the Romanian border, I rolled down the window and got out. Two of the dogs immediately jumped out. We had already been waiting in line for 3–4 hours. People were bored, so my chasing after the dogs entertained everyone, and at least we got a bit of exercise.

In Romania, I was met by so many volunteers! When they saw the animals, they started taking pictures and giving me food for them… I told them I had no space left to carry it. “Take it anyway!” It moved me to tears, I still remember it.

The first night, I planned to sleep outdoors. I set out eight bowls for the dogs, but the police came over, asked me not to sleep outside, and escorted us to a hotel. There, in the restaurant, they moved all the furniture, laid out mattresses, and set up beds for refugees.

I thought, “If anyone makes a sound, all eight dogs will start barking…” So I decided to sleep in the car near the hotel. I started the engine to charge my phone, then someone came over, and I got distracted and stepped out. The car had a button on the armrest that locked the doors. The dogs pressed it, locking themselves inside a running car! Until four in the morning, I tried to coax them to press the button again, but nothing worked. Finally, the volunteers broke a window so I could climb in. I patched it with plywood and continued across Europe.

Since then, the dogs have refused to get into a car. I don’t force them.

I remember sitting in that basement when my husband called and said, “I can’t live in a world without you.” That gave me the strength to leave. If they kill me, then so be it, but hiding in the basement, trembling, and waiting for them to come for me was too much. So, I gathered everyone and started the car…

Our home is gone, but the animals are safe. I’m happy that all our dogs are still with us. 

Six People, Five Dogs, Four Cats, and a Turtle

A family from Selydove in the Donetsk region is a large family with quite a lot of pets. Sviatoslav Torkhov worked in the mines while his wife Yuliya raised their three children: Oleksandr, Artem, and Alla. Yuliya’s mother lived nearby. This summer, they were forced to make drastic changes to their lives.

After the Airstrike

Yuliya: On June 23, there were two strikes on our town. Around 4 a.m., a shell hit the garden. Our roof only had some tiles slide off, and parts of the ceiling collapsed. It was still fixable, so we started repairs. My husband was on the roof, and the children, my mother, and I — with the dogs — were in the yard. At 5 p.m., there was another strike, this time hitting just beyond our yard. The windows shattered, and the ceiling collapsed. My husband fell from the roof, sustaining head and rib injuries. We were standing below, shielded from the debris by the garage, but all of us suffered concussions. The news said it was an aerial bomb, though we don’t know exactly what kind.

Our dog Stitch hid with us behind the garage while his mother, an Alabai named Lavyna, was near the fence with her little puppy, Misha. From a distance after the blast, I saw Lavyna lying there. I was afraid to approach, thinking she might be dead. But then the rescue workers checked on my husband and asked, “Would you like to check on your dog?” I finally went over and realized she was still breathing.

I called her name, “Lavyna, Lavyna,” and began petting her. She had hidden her puppy beneath her. She was badly concussed but had no other injuries and gradually started to come around.

Then, we began considering where to relocate and started searching for a place to live. We traveled a lot, and it was heartbreaking to make the animals wait for us for so long each time we left.

Aside from Lavyna and her puppies, we also have Stella, a mixed breed, and Nora, a shepherd dog, plus four cats — Busya, the Scottish Fold, Alisa, and her kittens, Borysych and Bagheera. And there’s also Burger the turtle.

Finding a way to transport all of them was a real challenge.

Sviatoslav: Finally, we found a contact for UAnimals and arranged for help transporting the animals. Volunteers Mariya Holovina and Andriy Zhdanov came. We remember them fondly to this day.

They prepared crates and laid hay in the car. I placed the animals in the crates, and Mariya and Andriy helped get them into the car. The animals didn’t whimper or try to escape — it was as if they understood everything would be okay.

In Petropavlivka

Sviatoslav: Few places allow families with children to stay, let alone with pets! With our large family, it was tough to rent a place where we could live with both kids and dogs.

I’m a miner, so we needed to be close to a mine. We finally found such a place.

Yuliya: We moved to Petropavlivka in the Dnipropetrovsk region. I arrived three days early to settle in and prepare to welcome the animals. I waited for them and settled them all in. Now they’re doing well.

The cats, who always lived in our trees, are still up in the trees. Lavyna adores our children but barks at strangers. If she runs outside, she won’t harm anyone, but people are still afraid of her — she’s huge. So she stays in an enclosure.

Stitch also wanted to run around freely and couldn’t be made to stay in one spot, so we had to add him to the enclosure. Still, the dogs found a way to sneak out to the yard.

Nora, the shepherd, is also a guard dog but is attached to us, having been with us since she was a puppy. Stella, an older dog, will give you her paw if you approach her — she loves attention.

How could we abandon them? We love them and didn’t bring them into our lives just to leave them behind. That thought never even crossed our minds.

Sviatoslav: Soon, we’ll bring my mother-in-law here; she’s still in Selydove. Then our family will be even larger. If you’re in a similar situation, don’t give up. Take your pets with you since pets are family members.

The Cat Who Celebrated Kherson’s Liberation

Yevheniya Akubekova lives in Kherson. Before the full-scale invasion, she worked as a cashier in a shopping mall. When the full-scale war began, the mall was destroyed, and she lost her job. Yevheniya had two cats, and just before February 24, 2022, she gained a third — the cat was left temporarily by her sister, who went to work in Poland. As it turned out, all three cats weren’t afraid of water: they traveled by boat and even went fishing. Yevheniya shared her experience of moving from place to place with her three cats.

The Start of the Occupation

We had two cats — Zoya and Varyushka — and in 2022, we also had my sister’s cat, Joey. He stayed with us through the war and occupation but is now back with my sister.

When Kherson was occupied, my husband and I didn’t leave the house for two weeks. Then, the cat food ran out, and our human food supplies were also running low. I was baking bread at home, but we were out of oil and sugar. So, we started going out to buy food. On April 9, we left for our dacha.

The left bank of the Dnipro is dotted with river channels and dachas on islands. We stayed there up until December 5. We planted a garden and caught fish. There was no electricity in the city, but we had it at the dacha.

The cats were terrified of the shelling. They still get scared and hide. It was horrifying when the orc [russian] planes flew overhead to bomb us. They flew so low, right above the power lines. The poor cats didn’t know where to run, and neither did we, crouching down in fear. I called for the cats, but they were panicked. When they heard a plane approaching from afar, they would dart inside the house.

Apart from that, the cats had a wonderful time there. My husband would fish and feed both our cats and the neighboring ones. The price of pet food skyrocketed. At first, locals raised prices on the remaining supplies, then the russians brought in more and sold it at triple the price.

Our biggest softie is Joey. He is affectionate and friendly. He followed me all over the island; everyone knew he was my cat. Liza was a stout little thing, bustling around chasing snakes and mice, getting leaner and more agile. Varya, the oldest, loved sitting in the attic — she had her own little sanctuary up there.

The cats even started bringing grass snakes into the house. They knew all the little holes and cracks where the snakes hid. I yelled at them to stop dragging those poor snakes inside!

The cats loved it there, and it was hard for them when we returned to the city. Joey didn’t eat for a week out of sadness.

Every weekend, I would take a boat to Kherson to buy essentials — oil, grains, or sugar — the things we couldn’t grow ourselves. My husband and I would pass through the Ostriv microdistrict. The orcs had a checkpoint there. They’d check our bags and phones. Once, we were boarded by an orc boat, they searched us and checked our passports and phones.

Liberation

I remember when Kherson was liberated. I went shopping by boat. We all knew each other, everyone else was also going. So we hired a taxi, we were on our way, and we saw a pickup truck with Odesa license plates and a guy in camouflage waving at us. I thought, “What a bastard, they’ve seized another of our cars, and he’s even waving.” I was so stressed I didn’t even notice his uniform was different! I arrived at the market, and it was buzzing: “They’re here, they’re here!” We’d been warned not to gather in groups because it might be a trap — the invaders could be disguising themselves… I said, “People, don’t gather!” They asked, “Don’t you want it to be true?” “Of course I do,” I replied, “but we were warned it could be a provocation.” I didn’t believe it. And Kherson was abuzz.

When we returned to the island, the talk was the same: “Did you hear?” “Is it true?” When it became clear that our forces really had come, we gathered everyone on the island and celebrated. Each family brought whatever they had, and we sat together, sang, took photos, and cried. Even the cat found us and sat at the table with us!

Then, the islands became a target for shelling. They used drones to watch where people were moving and fired at those spots. Soon everyone had fled, and we left in a hurry too.

We left our belongings behind but took the cats. Three carriers, two backpacks.

The dacha is now under orc control. We don’t know if we’ll ever return. Is it mined, is it destroyed? At least we have our animals with us. 

“Kupiansk Rai”: several concrete letters have fallen from the district sign, leaving only “Rai” [“rai” means “paradise” in Ukrainian, while the original word on the sign was “Raion,” meaning “district”]. It’s hard to imagine anything more ironic.

Flags flutter in the wind. Fading inscriptions left by passersby shimmer on the painted concrete. The wind blows in our faces. My fellow veterinarians step out of the vehicle, and the dogs follow — beautiful Lyman and impossibly funny Ritchie. I capture them all on camera. A minute later, we’re back in the cars.

We dive beneath a tilted railway bridge; pieces hang over the road like something out of a movie with explosions and high-quality CGI. The car veers onto a dirt road, jostling us as clouds of dust rise.

At one point, the car dips down, leaving a few weary soldiers behind on the side — and I see water all around. Rusted remnants of the bridge jut up from the depths like the spine and ribs of a skeleton. Oskil [River]? I pull out my phone, recording a few seconds, but all that’s visible is dust, and all that’s audible is a tune on the radio, “Your heart will tell you, for it has sight. It’s him! It’s him for sure!”

Together with the veterinary team, we head toward Kivsharivka, where they will sterilize and treat animals. Thus begins the diary of these eight incredible, smoke-filled days.

Characters:

o   Nataliya Sokolova (Natalka) — Head of the Accessible Sterilization project, veterinarian.

o   Lolita Polishchuk (Lola) — Veterinary assistant.

o   Yuliya Tkachenko — Veterinarian.

o   Roman Bidnenko (Roma) — Animal catcher.

o   Oleksandr Pohrebnyi (Sasha) — Driver of the UAnimals veterinary vehicle.

o   Olha Slynko (Olya) — Volunteer.

o   Andriy Kharchyshyn (Andriy) — Manager of the UAnimals rescue department.

o   Liliya Florynska (Lilya) — Animal welfare volunteer from Kupiansk.

o   Ranok the Dog.

o   Village Council Head Vasyl Bokov — Head of the Osynovo Village Council.

o   Aunt Valya, Zina, and others.

Tuesday, September 3

The car sways wildly between the pale chalk hills, the landscape resembling a sliced Kyiv cake. 

Ahead, the Kivsharivka sign appears, painted blue and yellow. The flag flutters on it, too, though faded to a lavender hue. We head a bit south to the first spot where the mobile clinic will be set up — the village of Novoosynove.

At 2:02 p.m., we arrive. The unknown soldier [Soviet-era monuments present in virtually every village] bows slightly under an old birch tree. We park the veterinary vehicle there, hanging branches around it for cover, and carry our supplies into an abandoned outpatient clinic. In one of the rooms, military call signs and code words are pinned up. I drop my backpack there.

The clinic wall has a gaping hole, and beside it, a rose bush blooms. The roof is shattered, and torn wires dangle like garlands here and there. I walk further in. Shattered windows reveal smiles of jagged shards, and blackened streaks make it appear as if something hot has scraped the building.  The fence is scrawled with messages for the enemy. Finally, I see people — women sitting on benches surrounded by cats. “Are you a volunteer? I’d like to speak with you.”

I barely manage to explain the type of our volunteer mission before the women start sharing stories about their animals.

“Who wrote on the fence?” I ask.

“Oh, Valya wrote it while Kostya dictated. She really shouldn’t have! There are four mistakes in every word.”

On the way back, I indeed spot the inscription, “ruskiy korabil.” When I return, Roma, the animal catcher, has just arrived from his first round. Dogs and cats “spill” from the car like out of the mitten [reference to a Ukrainian fairy tale]. Well, it just seems that way — they’re actually secured in cages. These are strays that will be spayed, neutered, and treated for parasites.

One puppy is too small for a cage, so it was let to wander on the grass, waddling between the cages with little, wobbly steps. Wobble-wobble, wobble-wobble.

“We’ll vaccinate this one soon,” says Natalka. “Let’s get it on video. Can you hold it…?”

“I just need to grab my mic,” I say, but I can’t bring myself to set the puppy down.

“Hand it over here; I’ll hold it,” offers Andriy, our manager.

I start to feel a pang of jealousy.

“Why don’t you two go together?” Natalka suggests, ending the debate.

I hurry to the clinic to fetch my mic, still holding the pup. The little one shivers like an aspen leaf but obediently sits on the couch while I search for the equipment. Once ready, we vaccinate and microchip him. I capture the process on film and already feel like I’ll never let this pup go.

Meanwhile, Natalka, Lola, and Yulia begin sedating the animals in the cages and starting the surgeries. Later, these cats and dogs will be vaccinated for rabies and treated for parasites. Roma and volunteer Olya are preparing for the next round of captures. I grab my camera and barely manage to jump in the car with them.

“Turn around so it doesn’t see me!” seems to be the mantra of the day. Roma shouts it to everyone helping bring a cat or dog to the car. He holds that if the animal doesn’t see the catcher, he can safely take it from its owner and quickly place it in a cage.

We gather cats around Novoosynove and Kivsharivka. Some people hand them over; others, Roma catches with a special trap cage baited with fragrant kibbles. Some are caught barehanded, while others need a net. By dusk, we’re back with 18 cats in cages.

The veterinarians finish their surgeries: 15 animals sterilized on the first day. It may not seem like much, but we still have plenty of time ahead.

The frontline rumbles, making it impossible to sleep in the clinic tonight. We gather our things and head to the basement of a five-story building. The building seems empty, but suddenly, a woman materializes near the entrance with a bicycle. “You all need a place to wash up! There’s an empty, bombed-out apartment with a water supply. The soldiers used to go there to bathe. Oh, how long we have lived with them here! They left at one point, then returned because they were afraid Aunt Valya wasn’t around anymore. But here I am. They meet me, they wheel my bicycle up… Second floor, there’s a spoon sticking out of the lock.”

Wednesday, September 4

In the morning, I head out again with Roma, the animal catcher, and Olya. Roma drives, while Olya keeps tabs on requests coming from Andriy and occasionally Natalka, jotting them down in her notebook and managing calls on her phone. After returning animals to their owners in Novoosynove, we set off to the village of Podoly to follow up on more requests. We bump along the dirt road like wandering Bedouins on camels, the air thick with smoke.

In Podoly, we’re met by Zina, a local volunteer who shelters abandoned dogs and knows where others might be found. She’s essentially our diplomatic envoy in this village. Zina hops into the car and confidently extends her tanned finger from the window, directing us.

Our first stop is with a woman picking up her already-sterilized dog, Pushynka. The woman cries with joy when she receives her dog and again when handing over Pushynka’s puppies for sterilization. “You’ll bring them back tomorrow, right?”

Our car crawls over sand dunes left by military vehicles, reaching a neighborhood where many residents remain.

“Where’s your other cat?” one woman asks. “My comadre is still trying to catch her,” another replies. “Those are my cats,” waves a woman in a snow-white headscarf. “They’re displaced. They used to live in the military’s house over there, but then they came to me. A cat and three kittens. The soldiers left, and nobody was feeding them.”

Our conversations with people go smoothly until we arrive at the home of some local drinkers, where dogs cluster outside. Despite our diplomatic envoy doing her best, we couldn’t break through the wall of incomprehension. A man and woman shout and tell us, along with Zina, to go away. We manage to take only one dog for sterilization.

Today, we sterilized 46 animals and distributed rabies vaccines and parasite treatments — items unavailable for purchase here.

Thursday, September 5

Emerging from the basement, my eyes take a while to adjust to the light.

A rumble starts: two helicopters soar overhead, their heavy bellies skimming above me, only to return minutes later. I spot blue and yellow insignias. Hopefully, they accomplished what they set out to do.

Everything around is humming and vibrating. At the mobile clinic, our first client is Simka, a cat brought in by an older man, Oleksandr Vasylovych. He tells us he has another cat, Bilka, along with three kittens. Maybe we can catch and vaccinate them? We head to his yard together.

Under the grapevines, the kittens huddle on the seat of an old rusted moped.

“I could leave here,” Oleksandr Vasylovych laments. “I’d let my little dog go. But what about these ones? I’m in a deadlock! I don’t know what to do with them! I’ve got nowhere to go, let alone take them. If I leave, it would be to the Sumy region. But they’re not wanted there.”

We manage to catch two and carry them back. Another cat comes out. “Murchyk, come along! Today’s my birthday. I didn’t know since there’s no power, and then I charged my phone and saw that it was today.”

Meanwhile, locals continue arriving at the mobile clinic, some women bringing cats quite literally in sacks. Everyone discusses last night’s shelling in Kivsharivka. One shell hit the bus station near the kiosk where we bought food yesterday.

By late morning, I set out with Roma again to Kivsharivka and Podoly. After the strikes, the smoke was thicker. The bus station is blackened and destroyed, and patches of grass are still smoldering.

At 12:01 p.m., one of the busiest episodes of the veterinary mission begins. After returning sterilized animals to Podoly, we set off to locate a collapsed house rumored to be sheltering seven puppies. All feral, and they need to be caught to vaccinate them.

We finally locate the place: a sieve instead of a fence, and the house missing an entire wall. Piles of bricks cover the ground, while shelves stocked with canned food and household items are visible inside. Roma and I enter what used to be the kitchen — it’s dark and disorderly.

We shine our flashlights around but manage to locate only two puppies. The others dart under a gap in the floorboards, and the next 20 minutes are filled with dust and chaotic scurrying. Roma uses some kind of a rod to pry up the floor, reaching into the holes to grab the puppies by hand. They whimper, but eventually, we catch them all.

Back in Novoosynove, I set off on foot to find another store. A dull thud echoes in the distance. At an intersection, a burnt car lies under a wooden sign labeled “Store” with an arrow pointing left. I follow it. The houses along the way have warped walls, and on one, with relatively fresh pink paint, someone has scrawled, “Glory to Ukraine, death to enemies!”

“Do you have any bread?” I ask.

“No bread delivery today. Tomorrow.”

Apart from bread, they seem to have everything else.

By day’s end, we had operated on 37 animals, most of which were captured strays. We continued distributing parasite treatments.

As the sun sets, I step outside to take in the village. Tended but empty gardens stretch before me. Corn and unharvested tomatoes. Marigolds bloom everywhere.

Friday, September 6

We’re at a new location, though the village name isn’t much different — Osynovo, now on the right bank of the Oskil. Once again, we set up the mobile clinic near the village council and community center, where a crowd has already gathered. Some wait with cats and dogs for sterilization, while others simply want to chat. They sit beside us on the bench, talking, and talking, and talking… The common theme for everyone here is their dogs and cats.

Midday, soldiers bring in a dog named Sandy, who resembles a husky, for sterilization.

“She’s our sister in arms,” says Sasha, a soldier, squinting in the sun. “She’s been with us in the dugouts, the trenches… always hiding with us in the shelters. She’s been with us since she was a pup.”

Roman turns to me and asks, “Shall we head to the dump?” I nod, “Of course.”

The local dump is said to be a goldmine for catching stray animals. We arrive during the golden hour when everything is bathed in the warm glow of the low sun. Golden-tinted trash blankets the hills.

We’re followed by a man of remarkable erudition: “I know three languages,” he declares, “Ukrainian, russian, and Romani! And here’s my dog. Bomba, come here!”

Our trip to the dump is only partially successful; we manage to pick up just one dog there and another on the way back.

But today, more owners have started bringing their animals for sterilization. Altogether, we sterilize 59 cats and dogs: 33 brought in by their owners, with the rest from our animal catching rounds.

We settle in for the night at the village community center. The head of the village council brings us blankets; I lay mine beneath a poster of a Soviet soldier. There’s no Wi-Fi or phone signal here, so to catch an internet connection from the Starlink, we have to step onto the council’s porch. However, the community center houses a small library with relatively modern books. A red-painted sign above reads, “Kupiansk District! Our homeland.”

Saturday, September 7

“I brought seven cats from Kupiansk,” says volunteer Yulia, setting seven carriers in a row. “I collected them from people who can’t bring them here for sterilization on their own. Many people have left, abandoning their animals, who can’t fend for themselves. I’ve taken in one cat and four dogs. Some others, we go and feed.”

Today, animals are brought in from Kupiansk, a soldier and a few villagers come by. Later in the afternoon, I head to Kupiansk myself with Roman. We’re not alone: volunteer Lilia joins us, her notebook filled with addresses.

“How’s veterinary care here?” I ask. “Nonexistent,” Lilia replies. “It’s been about ten months without any help. Sometimes, people contact veterinarians in Kharkiv online or take animals themselves to Chuhuiv or Kharkiv. There used to be a clinic in Shevchenkove, but it’s gone too. Now, it’s only phone consultations.”

By the end of the day, the vets sterilized 67 cats and dogs.

Sunday, September 8

“This here is Sofa. She’s a sweetheart, never causes trouble,” a local woman, a mother of three, tells me about her dog. “Either way, she needs to be sterilized. It’s better for the dog and for us — otherwise, we’d have way too many dogs. I also have Lyalya. When the explosions are close, they run everywhere, barking. Sofa sleeps under my car because she’s scared of explosions.”

The wait is long, and soon, the woman shifts to sharing memories of the occupation.

“They took everyone to the basements, forced us to sing the russian anthem. Some made it out; some didn’t. It was terrifying when planes flew over the rooftops. At first, I’d huddle in a corner, clutching my head… I don’t know how I managed to pull myself together. It took them a long time to push them out of the woods. Now that our troops are here, it’s not as scary. God forbid it happens again.”

A clear autumn sky with thin, transparent clouds.

This is Prystin, the third village on our route. Here, too, we’ve set up the mobile clinic beside the village council and community center. Beneath a bench, a neat pile of shell fragments is stacked — smooth metal with jagged, torn edges.

At 5:37 p.m., the air thickens with smoke. The first puppy vaccinated during the mission sleeps, unbothered by any explosions. In Osynovo, I’ve already named him Ranok [“Morning”]. Some people sit “under the Starlink,” trying to pick up a signal. Andriy is on the phone with UAnimals manager Nastya: “I’ll text you every hour, ‘All good, all good.’”

This reassurance is necessary because it was whistling and falling nearby recently. We ducked behind a wall, though who knows what good it would’ve done.

Just afterward, our driver Sasha calls out, “Drone!” and we crouch near a birch for a few minutes.

I see people outside the village tying three cows to graze. The young women continue their surgeries while Roman is on a capture round.

In the evening, the village council head stops by again. “That drone dropped something near my house. There was some kind of another thing,  it fell in a woman’s yard. I’ll go visit her and tell you what that was. Will this one here turn out like marble?” He nods at Ranok, who indeed has a reddish coat with faint marbled patterns.

The veterinarians work late as usual: today, they’ve operated on 41 animals.

To keep the light use minimal, only the vet van stays illuminated. Once that light goes out, everything is swallowed by thick darkness. Only the sky over Kivsharivka continues to flash.

Monday, September 9

Early in the morning, something hit nearby again. I hear the village head on the phone, asking, “Could you bring a couple of canisters of water, at least? There was a strike, and we don’t want the fire spreading to the sunflowers…”

It’s the second-to-last day, so, together with Andriy, the manager, we record a video summarizing our efforts. He holds the shaggy Lyman in his arms. “The Grads [MLRS] last night were memorable,” Andriy says with a half-smile.

But it’s time to take stock for real: the vet mission has provided aid to 390 animals, most of them strays.

Tonight, there are few stars, but the moon is visible. It’s waxing but no longer a thin crescent. Its broader shape glows in the sky — a strange, blood-red hue.

Tuesday, September 10

We pack up, load Ranok into the car, and begin the slow drive back to Kharkiv with Sasha in the vet van. The veterinarians, Roma, and Andriy take a second van. The vet van has some mechanical issues, so we can only drive in second gear, giving us ample time to take in the sights of the Kharkiv region — beautiful and smoke-filled. russian radio occasionally breaks through the static.

In Kharkiv, I stop by a pet store, buy a dog carrier, and head home.

We arrive in Kyiv that evening, all of us — the veterinarians, Andriy, Sasha, and us with the dog.

Just before arrival, I text Natalka: “How are you?” “All’s well,” she replies, sending a photo from the van with a glass in hand. “Celebrating life.” And the little “marbled” dog is giving me a hard time to finish this text.

There’s a persistent stereotype that swamps are nothing but rotting, darkness, and treacherous bogs that will immediately swallow you whole. I only agree with the last part: swamps do pull you in—you can’t help but want to explore their unique features more and more. This exploration is both desirable and necessary for preservation.

First, let me clarify: in this text, for simplicity, I refer to wetlands as “swamps.” Wetlands are divided into five categories: marine, estuarine, lacustrine (lake), riverine, and palustrine (marsh). All of these types are carefully protected and studied globally because they are incredibly valuable.

In fact, as far back as 1971, world leaders established the Ramsar Convention on Wetlands of International Importance. The countries that ratified this convention committed to creating nature reserves to protect swamps. To date, 172 countries have ratified this convention—Ukraine joined in 1996. Unfortunately, not all significant wetlands have yet been designated as Ramsar sites.

So why is it so important to care about swamps? Because they are natural reservoirs of fresh water. Contrary to popular belief, the water there is not stagnant or rotten. Thanks to special soils—peats—water in swamps is naturally filtered, and the vegetation on their surface slows down evaporation under the sun.

Swamps also absorb seasonal water surpluses, protecting people from floods. They act as local temperature regulators during particularly hot periods, which is why they are so crucial in our era of climate change.

Moreover, swamps are hubs of life and species interaction. About 40% of Earth’s living organisms reside, reproduce, and feed in wetlands. Each finds a safe and comfortable niche within the waters. For example, birds like the Eurasian penduline tit, the aquatic warbler, the marsh warbler, and the great reed warbler build their nests in the heart of swamps, where it’s moist and out of reach for predators.

The Ramsar Convention particularly focuses on protecting waterfowl. And it was through birds that I became involved in wetland research. Completely by accident.

It all started with a childhood dream of buying a house by a lake. In 2019, I made that dream come true, and by the spring of 2020, during the COVID-19 pandemic, I had settled near Lake Supii. The village I moved to has only one street, with gardens that lead straight to the water. This is how I became a constant spectator of nature’s theater and one morning, I witnessed something extraordinary: about 100 mute swans filled the sky and then descended onto the lake. Until then, I had only seen such sights on National Geographic. This sight moved me so deeply that I started to explore our swampy surroundings more actively. Eventually, I registered a civil society organization to study and protect the local environment.

Since then, I’ve learned that our region has a long history of swamp destruction for agricultural achievements. During the Soviet era, drainage systems were built on the Supii and most small rivers in this part of Ukraine, and the rivers themselves were straightened and channeled. Their natural winding courses were redirected through canals, and the areas where the rivers used to flow were planted with sunflowers. In this way, wetlands were industrially converted into arable land, disrupting natural processes.

I’ve met with the Ukrainian scientists who planned and implemented these drainage projects. They told me their intentions were positive: to increase crop yields and boost the country’s economy. Now, they acknowledge that even if we restore all the rivers “broken” back then, only about 20% of the ecosystem would recover. The rest is lost. Forever.

Still, agricultural machinery continues to plow closer and closer to the edges of the swamps near Lake Supii each year. To understand how this affects nature, our organization constantly monitors local biodiversity. Almost daily, we record the flora and fauna in the same areas using the iNaturalist app by National Geographic. We also track bird populations with the Merlin Bird ID app by Cornell University.

For instance, this summer, we noticed that due to plowing near the swamps, the population of the aquatic warbler has decreased. This is a vulnerable species listed in the International Union for Conservation of Nature’s Red List.

To preserve our vulnerable bird species and their habitat—the swamp—we need to create Ramsar sites on Lake Supii and other wetland areas. The Ramsar Convention must not just remain a signed piece of paper—it must be actively implemented. As an activist, I believe that what helps the most is raising awareness and fostering a sense of responsibility for nature in each of us. That’s why I never tire of explaining: swamps are valuable ecosystems, meticulously designed by nature, and our task is simply to study them without interfering.

The texts in the Columns section reflect only the author’s opinion and do not necessarily align with the position of UAnimals media’s editorial team.

One of the most pervasive myths about the Middle Ages is the claim that cats were treated horribly during that era. Of course, the image of black cats suffering in the flames alongside their witch owners provides a compelling representation of the so-called “Dark Ages.” However, like many other myths, the idea that medieval people universally hated cats does not hold up under the scrutiny of historical sources. These sources, in fact, reveal evidence of tenderness, care, and genuine curiosity with which Europeans treated cats of all breeds and colors. Through these sources, I aim to demonstrate that the notion of widespread demonization of cats in the Middle Ages doesn’t hold any more water than the contemporary belief in a flat Earth.

But first, let’s take a closer look into the demonization itself: it was during the medieval period that black cats began to be associated with evil forces. The most well-known example of such superstition is Pope Gregory IX’s Papal Bull Vox in Rama, issued in June 1233, which was aimed against the heresy of Luciferianism. The bull described an initiation ritual that involved kissing a giant black cat under its tail—a variation on the theme of worshipping Lucifer, with whom the cat was identified.

Due to this association of black cats with demonic influence, historian Donald W. Engels concluded that the spread of the plague in Europe was caused by the mass killing of cats. Supposedly, many cats were put to death, leaving no one to catch the rats that were considered the main carriers of the plague.

Indeed, from the late 15th century, after the publication of Malleus Maleficarum (The Hammer of Witches), large-scale witch hunts began, with cats (particularly black ones) being considered their essential companions. This belief was likely fueled by cats’ nocturnal lifestyle. Nighttime activity, as with owls and frogs, was seen by medieval theologians as evidence of connections to evil forces, which were believed to manifest primarily at night.

However, there was no widespread mass killing of cats in the Middle Ages. The closest historical event to the myth of a “great cat massacre” actually occurred in the early modern period, not the medieval one, as described by historian Robert Darnton. In Paris, on the Rue Saint-Séverin in the late 1730s, printing apprentices, furious at the appalling conditions of their lives, captured, beat, and eventually hanged their masters’ cats. The cats suffered because their owners had provided them with a much better standard of living than the poor apprentices had. This “great massacre” was confined to a single street and, as far as I know, was the largest such event recorded by historians.

The “cruel” Middle Ages are often contrasted with cat-loving ancient Egypt, where the goddess Bastet, with her feline head, and cat mummies, now showcased in the great halls of museums, are commonly cited.

But recently, I came across a record from 899, widely shared online, from the diary of the 17-year-old Japanese Emperor Uda, who wrote about his black cat. “My cat,” Uda wrote, “moves silently, without making a sound, like a black dragon above the clouds.” On one occasion, the emperor addressed his beloved pet with these words, “You possess the forces of yin and yang and have a body that is the way it should be. I suspect that in your heart, you may even know all about me!” To this, Uda noted, “The cat heaved a sigh, raised his head, and stared fixedly at my face, seeming so choked with emotion, his heart so full of feeling, that he could not say a thing in reply.”

These words are filled with love and gentle irony. They show that in the Middle Ages, the emotional bond between cats and their owners was not so different from today, even though this example comes from an Asian source. Moreover, evidence of affection for cats can also be found in European texts from that period.

Let’s start with encyclopedias, whose authors attempted to organize and explain the world around them. In his multi-volume Etymologies, Isidore of Seville sought to explain the nature of things through their names. He links different names for cats to certain traits, “Common people call it the cat (cattus) from ‘catching’ (captura). Others say it so named because cattat, that is, ‘it sees’ — for it can see so keenly (acute) that with the gleam of its eyes it overcomes the darkness of the night. Hence ‘cat’ comes from Greek, that is. ‘clever’“

Thomas of Cantimpré, in his encyclopedia De Natura Rerum, describes cats as follows: “It is very easy for people to provoke them to play; they delight in flattery. They love warm places, where they sometimes burn their fur out of sheer laziness. They have long fur on the sides, and its removal leads to a loss of courage. They are happy when touched by a human hand, and they express their joy by singing… The cat is spoiled by such an amount of love for it.”

Bestiaries—medieval collections of stories and legends about animals, birds, plants, and even stones—visualize the descriptions from encyclopedias. They depict cats with mice in their paws, grooming themselves and even wearing crowns. All these depictions are not much different from modern Instagram photos.

As we can see, much of what was written about cats was based on observations of their natural behavior. Unlike lions, cheetahs, dragons, or unicorns, cats were an integral part of everyday medieval life. The same monks who wrote encyclopedias and adorned manuscripts also kept cats, even allowing them near their most precious possessions—books. There is ample evidence of this, the most striking being the paw prints left in manuscripts.

In an English copy of the aforementioned Etymologies by Isidore of Seville, one can see the prints of dirty cat paws. Judging by their placement, the cat walked onto the page (the first print is very clear) and then made itself comfortable there—this is evident from the subsequent smudged prints on the page. Interestingly, the material of the manuscript allowed for these marks to be erased, but the monk chose not to—perhaps leaving them as a fond memory of his beloved pet.

In contrast, a 15th-century treatise from the Dubrovnik State Archive bears traces of how a cat first stepped into ink and then walked confidently across the pages of the manuscript. This confirmation of cats’ love for interrupting our work was discovered by historian Emir O. Filipović. He didn’t expect his finding to cause such a stir, but mentions of the cat’s paw prints in the treatise quickly spread across the internet—from Twitter to personal blogs. The story was even picked up by well-known online publications, including The Guardian, The Atlantic, and Smithsonian Magazine. For some, this discovery was a revelation: the cats lying on keyboards in today’s photos have direct predecessors in the Middle Ages!

Cats were not only physically present in manuscripts but also appeared in miniatures (illustrations) and marginalia (drawings on the edges of pages). The most popular motif of cat “iconography” in marginalia was a scene where a monkey feeds a cat. Artists often depicted these scenes as a parody of nativity images: a kitten swaddled in a manger while one or a pair of monkeys hover above it.

Cats also made their way into the workspaces of saints. In a 16th-century Book of Hours from Bruges, while Saint Matthew is writing the Gospel, a cat sits behind him with a silent reproach in its eyes, evidently waiting patiently for the work to end so that its owner might finally feed it.

The love for cats among monks and nuns was sometimes so intense that it provoked criticism. The Dominican friar John Bromyard, in his 14th-century sermon, addressed the monastic elite, reproaching them for their excessive fondness for cats. He wrote, “Cats, as the learned doctor says, can indeed rid our homes of parasites, but as life has shown, they cannot be trusted. I once heard of a fool who found that mice were eating his cheese in a wooden chest; so he placed a cat in the chest to protect the cheese. But what did the cat do? It ate not only the mice but also the cheese.”

So, was love stronger than prejudice? Despite the superstitions and myths about cats that formed on the pages of medieval encyclopedias, treatises, papal encyclicals, and eventually in popular oral culture, there is more evidence of love for cats. One only needs to look at the miniatures in medieval Books of Hours, where cats and their owners are depicted in affectionate embraces. This love for “dragons above the clouds” in the Middle Ages united East and West, clergy and peasants alike, just as it unites us today. The notion of unrelenting cruelty towards cats in the Middle Ages is more of a myth than a historical reality.

Our first attempt to talk with Viktor Vorotnikov, a veterinarian and head of the Veterinarians Without Borders organization from Krasnohrad, Kharkiv region, was put off. “I have surgeries starting soon, sorry. They will take the whole day,” explained the doctor. However, we managed to connect the next day. “Convenient or not—if I promised, I have to keep it,” Viktor laughed.

On the day we couldn’t speak, he was in Izium, where he, along with two assistants and another veterinarian, performed around 70 surgeries. Last year alone, his clinic team sterilized up to 15,000 animals. Since the start of the full-scale war, Viktor and his colleagues have operated on over 5,000 animals rescued during sterilization missions and UAnimals evacuation trips.

What is it like, to save animals affected by war? Does the veterinarian witness more humanity or indifference? Viktor shared his experiences.

— How did you connect your life with veterinary medicine?

— I have dreamed of saving animals since childhood! Even in play, I pretended to treat rabbits—one had an “earache,” another had a “sore leg.” As I grew up, these games became my daily reality. I first studied at a vocational school in the veterinary department, then graduated from the Kharkiv Veterinary Institute. I’ve been in this profession for 42 years.

Now, I work in my own clinic and in the field. We have two mobile surgery units, so we travel to frontline areas. In 5-6 days on such a mission, we manage to operate on at least 300, sometimes even 600 animals.

We sterilize some, while others need treatment for injuries. I also provide consultations during these missions, advising people on how to care for their animals, what vaccinations they need, and when. Outside of surgeries, I see up to 80 patients a day. I often help animals with concussions. It’s similar to treating humans—they need rest, care, and medications that relieve pain and symptoms.

— Do you notice how animals are treated in areas close to the combat zone during these trips?

— I encounter a lot of human indifference. Sometimes, for example, animals are left chained up. I understand that in wartime, anything can happen—perhaps the animals’ caretakers were caught in shelling or had to leave quickly. But at least unchain the dog! 

Still, there’s more kindness. 

I’m always struck by the soldiers who bring us cats and dogs. Recently, they brought us a cat named Vasya with fractures of everything that could be broken. He’s currently living at our clinic, receiving treatment, and waiting for his caretaker to return from the frontline.

Soldiers risk their lives, but don’t forget to help the most vulnerable. Then, they call us to check on the animals because they worry about them. 

Sometimes, I think this helps the soldiers themselves, too—it distracts them from the horrors of war by allowing them to focus on helping.

— Over your 42 years in this profession, have you noticed changes in how animals are treated?

— Absolutely! Especially towards stray animals. The attitude used to be very harsh—they could even be shot. Now, there are far more initiatives to control their population humanely. Our organization, Veterinarians Without Borders, was one of the first to implement such a program. Since 2017, we have been catching, sterilizing, vaccinating, and microchipping cats and dogs and then releasing them. We’ve done this in seven regions in the East of Ukraine, and I’ve personally participated in these missions.

— What advice would you give to those who rescue animals near the frontline?

— It’s very simple: safety first. When rescuing animals, you must think about your own life, too. 

I conduct first aid training for volunteers and always urge them to plan everything in advance. You need to be prepared for any unforeseen situation and know how to help an animal in those conditions.

Consider the types of injuries animals might have (gunshot wounds, concussions, fractures) and have all the necessary supplies with you. Also, keep in mind that sometimes animals need to be rescued from water or may flee into mined areas. In such cases, special equipment will be needed. 

This is serious and dangerous work, not just a “photo op.” Even a sincere desire to help isn’t enough. So if you plan to volunteer there, consult with professionals—those who have already worked near the frontline. This will help you avoid mistakes that could cost you your life.

— From your experience, which animals are the hardest to evacuate?

— Evacuating any animal is challenging in its own way. There are frightened, aggressive dogs that need to be unchained first. Sometimes an animal has to be pulled out of a pit before it can be evacuated. 

But in my opinion, the hardest animals to save are those with underlying health issues. Sometimes we find animals with anorexia or starving from hunger. Transporting them is extremely difficult—you must carefully plan the evacuation, ensuring access to oxygen and water.

— Do you have any pets of your own?

— Of course! I treated them myself, too, by the way.

— Розкажіть про них, будь ласка.

— Please tell us about them, please.

— There’s my cat, Harik, a Sphynx who was evacuated from Vuhledar. He’s a large, dignified cat with a stern look but very gentle and well-mannered. 

I also have a wonderful little dog, Tobik. He was hit by a car, and this little guy—a toy terrier—had a pelvic fracture and a prolapsed intestine. There was little hope that we could save him. But Tobik survived, and now he’s such a great friend!

— Lastly, could you share what discourages you in your work and what inspires you?

— Well, what inspires me, of course, is when a difficult surgery ends successfully.

What discourages me… It’s the indifference of people towards animals and nature. 

For example, in 2020, we rescued a bear that an oligarch had “played with” until he got bored. The animal lived in a cramped enclosure. When we saw her, the bear was already paralyzed in her hind legs and was extremely emaciated. We consulted with colleagues from other countries on how to help her and shared her test results. Everyone unanimously said she wouldn’t survive. But we managed to stabilize her enough to place her in Natalia Popova’s Wild Animal Rescue Center. The bear lived there for another two years before passing away just before the full-scale invasion began.

What discourages me now is how all living things are suffering because of Russia. What can I say? If we save the natural world, we save ourselves as well. That’s what I believe.

When most people think about the work of archaeologists, they imagine the search for ancient settlements or burial mounds, the discovery of golden Scythian ornaments, Trypillian ceramics, or Sarmatian weapons. Rarely do they consider the study of animal skeletons. Yet, this is precisely the focus of zooarchaeology, a very young but rapidly progressing field of study.

Zooarchaeologists focus on the remains of animals found during excavations. Interestingly, they are not primarily interested in dinosaurs or the search for semi-mythical creatures but rather in species that lived in historical periods and coexisted with humans.

Imagine removing even a single species from the history of our planet, say, the horse, and consider how differently history might have unfolded. In ancient times, the absence of horses would have made interregional contact more difficult and slowed the exchange of information, thereby hindering the development of civilization. If a ruler had left the capital for more than three months, the likelihood of a coup would have been very high. Consequently, states would have been smaller, and small empires tend to be more brutal. Without a mobile army to suppress rebellions at the borders, rulers would resort to terror to ensure that uprisings did not occur again soon. These are just a few examples. It is nearly impossible to imagine life in a world without horses.

This is exactly the type of complex question that zooarchaeology addresses. This field of study explores how the animal world and humanity have coexisted and influenced each other over millennia.

The first professionals in this field explored animals in agriculture, examining which species humans domesticated in different eras. Today, zooarchaeology also helps to study the impact of humans on ecosystems, the connection between animals and climate, and, most importantly, what we can do to protect the environment from irreversible changes.

Humans have always been clever and resourceful predators, inevitably impacting their environment. Homo erectus and the earliest representatives of Homo sapiens were on par with other predators: even if they harmed the environment, it was no more than, say, a tiger. Much also depended on the conditions in which they had to survive. The more favorable the environment, the more impact the predator could have. Imagine a cat landing on an island and encountering weaker competitors and easy prey — the local fauna would not fare well. Ancient humans were often like such cats, frequently dominating certain areas.

However, what began to happen from the late Paleolithic period is of particular interest to zooarchaeologists. It was then that humans began using more sophisticated weapons, mastered the most effective hunting methods, and started to change the landscapes of entire continents.

It is important to note that many people still hold the stereotype of the bon sauvage or noble savage: the belief that ancient people lived in harmony and unity with nature. This view is often expressed about Australian Aborigines or indigenous peoples of the Americas. Unfortunately, I must disappoint you. Firstly, they were not as wild and primitive as often portrayed: Australians mastered seafaring even earlier than Europeans and were generally intelligent and inventive. Secondly, due to this inventiveness, they significantly (and sometimes drastically) altered the ecosystems in which they lived. Australian Aborigines had no competitors in their area in terms of intellect and hunting skills, leading them to exterminate many animals. One of their hunting methods was to set vegetation on fire. Have you guessed why the contemporary Australian bush — the shrubby environment of the continent — is so prone to fires? About 60,000 years ago, the ancestors of Australian Aborigines practiced widespread burning of local forests. This shaped ecosystems that adapted to such fires.

The same occurred in North America: the Clovis culture, during its 300-year existence 12,000 years ago, completely destroyed many species, fundamentally altering human history. However, it is not fair to blame ancient peoples for being insufficiently environmentally aware. Such a stage in human development was predictable and inevitable. Remember, humans are skillful predators, and for a predator, dominating competitors and taking everything from the environment is natural.

However, there is a unique trait that sets us apart from other hunters. Unlike, say, a lion, humans are capable of reflecting on their actions and questioning whether they are doing the right thing. Imagine if, at some point, lions had eaten all humans and wiped our population off the planet. It’s unlikely they would lament, “What a pity, humans were so nice!” In contrast, humans, especially modern ones, have come to understand that despite their negative impact on the environment, they need to reduce this impact and protect vulnerable species.

This is where zooarchaeology comes into play with its studies of the past of these species. First and foremost, it helps determine how populations of various animals fluctuated, where they were widespread, and how humanity influenced all of this. For example, right now, with Dr. Oleksandr Kovalchuk and Tyt Volynskyi, we are researching the fauna of modern Ukraine — the species that our ancestors hunted the most. This is part of the project “Valuable Animal Species of Ukraine’s Fauna According to Archaeological Materials: Taxonomic Composition, Population Dynamics, and Spatial Distribution.” Of course, the phrase “valuable species” in the title is somewhat outdated and underscores a consumerist attitude towards nature. However, it is appropriate when talking about the past. After all, for ancient people, a bison, for example, was more valuable and necessary for survival than a water vole. Valuable species had a hard time because humans often reduced or even wiped out their populations.

Research shows that the most valuable species for people in the lands of Ukraine were hoofed animals and predators, diurnal and nocturnal birds, and sturgeon fish. Specifically, until the Bronze Age, there was active hunting of the eagle owl in Ukraine, which most likely had significant ritual importance. During the Iron Age, they had an easier time, but diurnal predators, especially eagles, buzzards, and kites, began to be persecuted. During the times of Kyivan Rus, there was a lot of hunting for the Eurasian goshawk. Also, the white-tailed eagle was always considered particularly valuable for some reason, yet it managed to adapt and remained quite numerous until the 20th century when these birds began to be systematically hunted in Soviet times.

Observing an ecosystem without comparing it to the past does not provide us with enough information about its normal state. For example, there is currently a debate about the great cormorant — a bird that lives in colonies and settles near the sea and also along the Dnipro and Buh rivers, consuming quite a lot of fish. Fishermen working on these rivers are very unhappy about this and insist that cormorants should be culled. Their argument is that the mere presence of this bird on the rivers is an anomaly; they claim that the birds have moved far from the sea due to man-made reservoirs. However, zooarchaeologists know that the great cormorant has always moved up the Dnipro and Buh during warming periods, even when there were no reservoirs. Therefore, this is not an anomaly that should be eradicated and forgotten but a reality of the local environment, no matter how unprofitable and unpleasant it may be for some.

There are also contrasting stories where we perceive certain species as native, although they do not belong to our ecosystem at all. For instance, the pheasant may seem quite “ours” to many. There is a belief that the ancestors of pheasants lived on Ukrainian territory 2.5 million years ago, and therefore this species is native to our fauna and should be protected. However, after collecting research materials, I realized that the pheasant is a species introduced by humans, probably in the 18th century. Its homeland is the Caucasus, but it could have been brought to Ukraine as semi-domesticated birds from the Mediterranean or Central Europe. Although there is data suggesting that pheasants were found in antiquity, among these remains, one bone does not lend itself to analysis, one turned out to be a duck bone, another a falcon bone, and yet another belonged to a small chicken. Thus, all those identified as “pheasants” were various other birds. If so, it turns out that the pheasant is just as non-native to our territory as, for example, the chestnut. One way or another, they displace “our” (scientifically, autochthonous) species. Therefore, before worrying about preserving pheasant populations, it is worth investigating the degree of their impact on the ecosystem.

There are species that have relatively recently arrived in our territories and pose a threat to local wildlife. We call them invasive species. Some of these species enter new environments on their own, while others are introduced by humans, often due to gross negligence. For instance, jellyfish appeared in the Dnipro likely because aquarium enthusiasts released them into the river. Some insects or snails travel long distances with grain, reproduce in new areas, and then can harm crops. The rose-ringed parakeet is also gradually spreading — this clever and strong bird competes successfully with many other species. Interestingly, it provides an example of the delayed effect of introduced species: nowadays, this parrot seems quite common in the Mediterranean region, but its presence in Chernivtsi raises concerns. In fact, the rose-ringed parakeet is not native to Europe at all — it was brought from India by the troops of Alexander the Great 2,300 years ago. Currently, we do not know what to do with such species — we are merely studying and determining which animals are “ours” and truly need protection and which are alien to the ecosystem.

So, what can science do to preserve “our” species?

First, it can help restore their populations. By studying remains, we know where these species lived and whether their distribution was natural. If, for instance, we want to restore the saiga or the steppe eagle, archaeological finds will tell us where they used to live and where they should be reintroduced. It is also important to know the natural population size, as not all species need to be numerous — some are rare by nature, such as the demoiselle crane. Although it is listed in the Red Data Book, its finds have always been few, especially compared to a similar species, the common crane.

Second, we can predict certain changes in populations to find ways to protect them. Here, for example, we can combine climatology with zooarchaeology. Climatology studies climate as a system that includes plants and animals, and changes in this system involve not only temperature fluctuations but also the appearance or disappearance of species. For example, the great bustard is listed in the Red Data Book of Ukraine — its numbers are relatively high during cold periods and decrease during warm periods. However, as the planet becomes increasingly hot, this temperature change adds extra pressure on the population of these birds. Therefore, we should be more attentive to the great bustard — it is not adapted to new, hotter climate conditions.

I hope that now when you hear the word “archaeology,” you will associate it a bit more with animals and their conservation. Studying the past of animals and understanding humanity’s role in the extinction of some species can be the first step toward restoring vulnerable populations. And zooarchaeologists are taking these steps, paving the way for animal protectors.

“Is that a bang,” asks the bearded man sitting in the dugout. “Don’t worry, no one’s going to hurt you… You’ll be safe and warm here.” He is talking to a kitten. You might recognize this scene. The soldier shared the video on his TikTok page, where it has already garnered nearly three million views.

The man in the video is Vitaliy Petrov, a tank platoon commander. Before the full-scale war, he lived in Kyiv, working as a driver—first as an employee and later as an entrepreneur. His family dog, Aiza, stayed behind in the rear. While on the front lines, he found himself caring for a cat, who soon became a social media sensation.

Vitaliy adopted the call sign “Joker,” after the DC Comics villain, who had a companion named Harley Quinn. Fittingly, Joker’s real-life black kitten is named Harley.

At the time of our conversation, Vitaliy’s unit had been holding the same frontline position for five months, with Harley living there for four of those months. 

Joker mentions that Harley “spiced things up” on TikTok, where he now has over 125,000 followers who offer tips on cat care and even send food for her. Our call connects. Joker’s camera shows us his dugout.

— Is the cat with you now?

— Yes, she’s having lunch over there.

— I’ve rewatched that video of you holding her as a kitten about 15 times…

— Yeah, there were some heavy shellings back then. I found her terrified and brought her into the dugout. I talked to her, and she listened so intently—it was unbelievable. Even after the shelling ended, she didn’t leave the dugout for another hour.

— How did she find you?

— When we first arrived at this position, there was a pregnant cat here. One of our unit members is a vet, so he helped deliver the kittens. Once they grew up and started running around, I took a liking to a little black one. That’s how I got her. 

Joked had his Harley, so I named her the same.

Harley has lived with us in the dugout all her life. The other kittens run around outside, and she used to run off with them, too, but now she’s become quite the house cat. 

I feed her, and she eats with the other cats while we leave for work. When we return, the other four cats scurry off, but Harley sits there like she owns the place, totally unbothered.

— How did you manage to tame her when the other cats stayed feral?

— Harley’s a bit of a disaster, to be honest. If there’s wire anywhere, she’ll find a way to get tangled in it. I’ve had to rescue her countless times.

Once, I’d just returned from my post and was resting when a comrade burst in, shouting, “Grab a knife and come with me!” I said, “Why a knife? I’ve got a rifle.” He insisted, “No, grab a knife!” I said, “Let’s do the rifle! Are we going into hand-to-hand combat or what?” He said, “Your silly little thing hanged herself, come quick!” I ran after him, and sure enough, Harley was hanging on the net. She was above the dugout, fell down, and was caught by her neck. I cut her free, she was trembling all over. I took her into my arms, and she calmed down.

I don’t know exactly how I managed to tame her. Maybe she lets herself be touched because I kept finding her and showing her love.

— Does she show you love in return?

— Oh, it’s incredible. Every morning, there’s a whole ritual. When I get ready for work, Harley comes over and starts meowing. She won’t stop until I pet her and let her rub against my face, like giving her a kiss of sorts. She just can’t let me gear up and go to work in peace. She demands attention before she’ll let me go, like, “Fine, you can go, but not for long.” She also goes to the other guys for a pet, but when I lie down to rest, she comes to my bed only.

— What’s a typical day like with her?

— Some days, there’s a ton of work and others, you just get up and monitor the perimeter of your zone of responsibility. There are firefights, fending off attacks. During those times, I don’t lock her away because if I do, she gets even more anxious.

She mostly stays in or around the dugout. Meanwhile, we do our job a little away. Once, I was on my post, and she came to visit. I was shocked. I petted her, but then I took her back because we don’t need that—she could give away our position. 

Orlans [Russian drones] can see everything very well with their cameras. If they see dogs or a bunch of cats, they know there are people nearby. We don’t need to let them know it.

— Does Harley have a favorite spot?

— When I’m lying on the bed, her favorite spot is on my chest, just near my shoulder. She lies down there and goes to sleep.

— How does she react to the shelling?

— She was scared as a kitten, but now, not so much. The only time she gets fussy is when she sees me putting on my armor and grabbing my weapon. She knows I’m leaving, and she shows her displeasure.

— Does she affect your mood?

— Definitely! When I used to be looking for her when she was a kitten, I was beside myself with joy when I found this little ball of happiness. 

During shelling, it was the other way, I’d worry that something could hit her…

— Can she cheer up others?

— Without her, it would be duller. We reminisce with the guys about how we were scrambling under fire to find Harley.

When I couldn’t find her for a week, it really got me down. But then I’d see her mom, and I’d think, “Okay, they must be nearby.” That cheered me up.

Sometimes, we’ll be sitting together with the guys, and Harley will come over, bothering everyone, meowing. Once someone acknowledges her and talks to her, she’s happy. She’ll either curl up somewhere or sit and listen.

— In the videos, you talk to her so sweetly. Don’t your comrades tease you about it?

— At first, they joked, “Did you replace your wife’s attention with that of a cat?” They even called me the “cat dad.” Think what you will, let it be so. But frankly speaking, you can’t endure war without humor.

Veterinarian Andrew Kushnir sits in the lobby of a Kyiv hotel with a huge yellow backpack and several bags. “You never know what to bring to Ukraine; you might need anything,” he shrugs.

Andrew has long lived out of a suitcase. He volunteered at a shelter in India before he even studied to become a veterinarian, and while studying, he herded buffaloes in Zakarpattia during breaks. He spent several months at wildlife centers in Costa Rica. After our meeting in Kyiv, Andrew visited Kherson on a spay/neuter mission and has already returned to the United States to operate on an injured alligator and a snake that swallowed a golf ball.

Andrew travels the world, moving from one project to another. But he visits Ukraine most often, as his family originates from here.

A surgeon in animal shelters; an amateur musician who plays the bandura; a volunteer who sails to African islands to treat the livestock of local residents… And this all describes one person. It’s no wonder I didn’t want to miss the moment when Andrew was still sitting among his packed bags in a Kyiv hotel.

Andrew or Andriy?

We could stay at the hotel, but Andrew is restless: we set off for a café, but the central streets are closed, and the journey along the hilly right bank of the Dnipro in Kyiv takes almost an hour. It seems I grew more tired during this time than he did. We spoke in Ukrainian all the way, and upon arrival, we switched to English.

You’ve just arrived in Kyiv. Where have you been before you came here? 

I was in Lviv at the Home of Rescued Animals shelter, working with the Worldwide Vets organization. We were spaying and neutering dogs and cats, and treating wounds, infections, and doing some surgeries with wildlife.

This is my fifth time in Ukraine.

I see you have a tattoo, where did you get it?

When I was little, my grandmother embroidered a shirt for me. The tattoo reminds me of this. I had it done at the beginning of the full-scale invasion in Lviv.

Can you tell us about your Ukrainian origin?

My father was born outside of Dnipro in a small village called Spaske during World War II. After two years, he and his family were taken to Germany for forced labor. After the war, he lived for 10 years in a refugee camp. Then, after 10 years, he came to the US with his father, mother, and two brothers. I have two sisters and a brother. My mother is American, but she understands some Ukrainian.

We spoke Ukrainian. How is it that you know our language?

When I was little, my parents founded a Ukrainian church in San Diego. There was also a school where we studied the Ukrainian language and culture. The church and school are no longer there.

Do you practice anything related to Ukrainian culture?

I play the bandura. Our family had a friend who was also from Ukraine and played the bandura very well. He was like an uncle to me. He taught me how to play this instrument. We ordered a bandura from Kharkiv, and I started playing at the age of five. I’ve been playing for over 30 years now.

What’s your favorite song?

Dumy Moyi and Shchedryk. I also sing. By the way, I sometimes cook borshch too.

The Nomad Vet 

How did you decide to become a veterinary doctor?

Well, a book. I read a book called Appointment at the Ends of the World, which is the memoir of a wildlife veterinarian. He traveled around the world to very remote places to work with very exotic species. I read the book and thought, wow, that’s incredible; that’s what I want to do in life. 

Ever since I decided to become a veterinarian, I have wanted to work with vulnerable animal populations around the world. I felt that I could make a big difference in not just animals’ lives but also people’s lives by helping those kinds of animal populations. These are animals on the streets and in shelters, but I also work a lot with wildlife—essentially with animals who don’t have anyone advocating for their health. 

I work in different countries in different settings, and I’m always adapting to the situation. So, it’s always new. I’m always learning more and more.

What does your everyday life look like?

It depends on a month. This month, I’m in Ukraine working with shelters. When I go home, I’ll work at wildlife centers in Florida with birds, tigers, dogs, and cats. Then, I’ll go to Uganda to work with chimpanzees for a month to help with health checks and make sure that they are ok and healthy. And then I’ll go back to California for 3 or 4 months just to stay with my family and work with dogs and cats. Then, hopefully, come back to Ukraine to do more spaying and neutering.

I’m self-employed. I do a lot of volunteer work. This whole trip to Ukraine is volunteer work. In fact, I’ve saved money back home to come to Ukraine and work. If I work with organizations, I do get paid, but it depends on the project.

What’s the most unusual place you have been to?

Uganda is a pretty unique place. I go to a chimpanzee sanctuary in Lake Victoria on Ngamba Island every July. Victoria is the largest lake in Africa. It’s huge. And there is an island sanctuary where 50 chimpanzees live. Every July, I work with the team to conduct their annual health checks to make sure they are healthy and monitor diseases. This year, when we finish with chimpanzees, I’ll be going to other islands to set up mobile veterinary clinics to help people with their cows and goats, pigs, chickens, dogs, and cats. We’ll take a little boat with people from the chimpanzee island, and we’ll land at different parts of different islands. We’ll set up the tables and all our equipment, and then we’ll invite people with animals to come.

This is the first time I’m doing this – it’s a pilot project. So I wasn’t able to get any donations, but hopefully, after this first trip, I can reach out to different organizations for more funding in the future.  

Do you have memorable cases from there?

Last year, when I traveled to Uganda, I brought a portable dental machine for human teeth. I was able to clean the chimpanzees’ teeth for the first time in their lives, which was really cool. They have the same number of teeth that we have. They were fully asleep.

Do you see differences in attitude towards animals?

I travel around the world, so I see many different perspectives that people have towards animals. And I found that no matter where I go, if people’s lives are good, they tend to treat animals well. When people are poor, they tend to treat the animals poorly. Maybe they don’t know better or just don’t care—they have bigger issues. 

What about Ukraine? 

I wouldn’t say that attitude in Ukraine is worse than in other countries I’ve been to. 

I’ve seen the full spectrum of attitudes towards animals.  When I came here to help, it was with very dedicated people, people who respect, care, and love animals, who put themselves in danger to evacuate animals. I’ve also seen another side when people tie up an animal and leave it. 

Do you have any pets? 

Oh, my dog Henry… I was working at the shelter in California doing surgeries one day, and I was doing my presurgical exam on lots and lots of dogs to make sure they were healthy for surgery and anesthesia. I met Henry that morning. He was scheduled for castration. I fell in love with him. And he’s been living with me for more than five years. He is lazy, emotional. He always looks sad. It’s because he’s a boxer, and it’s just the way their faces are, even if it’s happy – it looks sad. He is very loyal. Like me, he can sleep anywhere.

When I travel to the US, he comes with me. But when I travel to other countries, I leave him with my family.

To Ukraine During the Full-Scale War

After the full-scale war started, how did you come to Ukraine for the first time?

I pretty much stopped everything in my life. I had a full-time job, and I left to come and help where I could. In the second week, I was in Poland working on the Polish-Ukrainian border (Medyka-Shehyni border crossing point), with a tent, with people from IFAW, and we were helping refugees as they crossed into the EU with their animals. For about two months, I stayed at the border. It was really tough listening to the stories from people who had fled from Mariupol, Kherson, and Kharkiv. But I didn’t think about leaving at all. I knew that being able to help Ukrainians at this time was important for me.

Do you have any special memories from that time?

I think that was my third day at the border, midnight. And this woman came into our tent. She came from Mariupol with her mother and a cat. She was worried because her cat hadn’t peed for two days. We had rest cages for the cats, a place where he could hide, and a litter box. We put the cat in the little cage, and he immediately went to the kitty litter and started peeing. And she started crying. Finally, all the stress she’s been holding… She was so happy. I started crying, too. 

We talked. She was saying how she had just left her home in Mariupol, how her house was destroyed, it was hit by a missile. And here is this woman who packed her life in several suitcases, and her biggest concern was her cat not peeing.

The whole reason I was at the border was because there were so many people crossing the border with their animals. They wouldn’t leave their animals behind.

Where did you go after that? 

Then I came to Ukraine and traveled around—to Lviv and Odesa for a few months, and then home for June and July 2022. I came back in August. For three weeks, I was supposed to be volunteering with a couple of veterinarians in Odesa. I worked with exotic animals. That three-week trip became four months. I had to help with the evacuation abroad of lions from Odesa. 

Evacuation of a Lion Pride

The lions got names — Stephania, Lesya, and Taras. I reached out to IFAW and asked them if they could help get permits to transport the lions from Ukraine to Poland and then to the US. Even during a war, the paperwork is complicated to transport big animals like lions, tigers, bears, and leopards. This was October or November of 2022… this was when Russia started to target energy infrastructure, power plants, and there were lots of blackouts. So the office which issued permits wasn’t open. So we couldn’t get the paperwork. Eventually, the Polish government said, “OK, you can bring the lion cubs over. We’ll make it work.” That’s when I traveled from Odesa to Kyiv with the three lion cubs and the two vets I was working with.

We went to Natalia Popova’s Wild Animals Rescue Center. Natalia also had a lion cub who was going to join the three and make one pride. She also had a black leopard cub, six adult lions, and an Asian black bear. All of them were evacuated to Poland. 

We all went together. Natalia had a big transport truck. We put the cubs into crates and put them in the back of the truck. Small cubs were in small cages, and they sat in the front with us. They were small enough, and I was still bottle-feeding them. We drove from Kyiv to Poznan for 36 hours. 

I felt bad for the zoo staff because we showed up with a lot of work, especially with the cubs. Four lion cubs and a leopard cub were eating 4-5 times a day. So I stayed at the zoo for about a month. I lived at the zoo. They gave me a uniform and a golf car. I drove to the cubs, and I fed them. 

After a month, permits came to transport them to the US. Someone from New York very graciously donated a private jet to fly the lion cubs all the way from Warsaw to Chicago.

International airline regulations require each animal to be in a crate. Even though it would have been okay if they were free, we weren’t allowed to, and it’s safer for them to be in a crate. They were up in the cabin with us.

It was probably very stressful for them because they had to be separated from each other, and the plane was very loud.

The whole trip was long – 12 hours. In Chicago, we were met by the Wildcat Sanctuary staff. That’s where the lions are now. We loaded the lions into their truck, and then we drove 6 hours to the sanctuary.

The black leopard stayed in Poznan, and now it lives in France.

I saw a video where your arms were scratched!

They have very, very sharp claws. They tried grabbing and holding my arm as I was holding the bottle. When I shared the video with scratches, I was in transit, so I didn’t have time to go get gloves. But once I got to Poland, I definitely got gloves very quickly. 

Is there any point when you must stop contact?

Yes. The sanctuary where they are now is a zero-touch facility, no one has any contact with them, which is absolutely the best possible way. It keeps people and animals safe. We, humans, have this fantasy that we can pet and touch and cuddle any animal. On social media, people are sharing videos of hugging monkeys, cuddling leopards, and sleeping on tigers.  

Maybe it can be okay. In 90% of cases, there’s no issue hugging a tiger that has lived its whole life in captivity. But that 10% of the time when something goes wrong, that’s when people lose fingers, arms. There are even situations when a lion or a tiger attacks somebody, then this animal usually has to be put down or euthanized because it now has this experience. In reality, it’s just doing what it knows how to do. 

A 20-30-second video takes it out of proportion. It’s not the reality of what it’s like to take care of these animals. These animals don’t make good pets. Once they are adults, they become too large to be able to safely play with. So, often, subsequently, they are put in little cages, where they live the rest of their lives. People often get these animals as pets when they are really young, they are so tiny and so precious. But they don’t stay that way forever. After 6-7 months, they already weigh 60 kg, and even if they are playing, they can hurt you. Most people’s reaction is, “if I can’t play with you, you have to stay in this little yard or cage”.

Does it happen in America too?

It does. It depends on the state. I think we have more tigers in captivity in Texas than there are in the wild.

Each state has different laws regarding private ownership of these types of animals, but we are cracking down and getting better in terms of who can privately own a tiger or a lion and who can legally breed them. New laws are in place, and the effect can be released in several years, but the goal is to have none of these animals in captivity anymore in private ownership.

Animal Shelters in Ukraine and in the US

Do you have any stray animals in America?

Oh yeah. We have a lot of stray cats. And we would have a lot of stray dogs, but we have many shelters. So, if a dog is a stray, very soon, he will go to a shelter. If we didn’t have so many shelters, we would have many more dogs on the streets. 

Are shelters in the United States different from Ukrainian ones?

Some shelters in the US are very nice and well-designed. Most shelters are indoors with access to yards outside. They are built as shelters. Every dog and cat has its own room. It’s possible; it just has to be really big. 

They are in cities, so people are more likely to come and say, “This dog is cute; I’ll adopt it.” 

They have a lot of money and can pay staff. They get donations. An animal shelter in a city will have a contract with the city itself. 

There are many successful animal shelters. They have a whole team of people whose job is to find money for the shelter. They have wealthy donors, and they get them to donate money every year.

The shelter I did my training at saw 90,000 animals that year. They are adopted regularly.

Most animal shelters have at least one full-time veterinarian and a clinic where they do surgeries all the time. It is a big difference from the shelters here in Ukraine. They don’t have their own veterinary staff. Maybe they are run by babushkas. If the shelter has a doctor and a veterinary nurse, the spread of diseases will be stopped faster, and they will treat injuries sooner than when animals have to be taken to clinics. The longer you go without sterilizing the animal, the higher the chance there will be more puppies, and you are creating a bigger problem for yourself.

What are the biggest problems you saw in Ukrainian shelters? 

Probably the biggest challenge at all animal shelters – there are too many animals and not enough resources: not enough food or access to veterinary medicine. An animal that is sick and needs medication twice a day can’t get that treatment because there are not enough people to give the medication to the animal. 

I have seen shelters with way too many animals, and they have no plans to move some of the animals. They just take five dogs from the street and put them with the rest of the population: there’s fighting, biting, and disease. 

What can we do to improve it?

Spay and neuter every animal that comes to a shelter or even every stray animal you can trap. One female dog can have 10 puppies, and then from these you’ll have 100 puppies, of those you can have a thousand puppies. Spaying and neutering reduces the number of stray animals, reduces disease spreading, it’s a public health concern. 

Separation is really important. There should be individual areas for the dogs, for example, ten dogs in this room, ten in that one, which do not mix, and then a plan to reduce the number of animals. 

I know, it’s easier said than done.

Do you see differences between American veterinary care and the Ukrainian system?

I worked with a lot of good veterinarians, very smart, very capable. One of the differences is that in the US, we have more access to the advanced machines which we use, which do exist here. 

We actually have a specialization in the US called “shelter medicine”. There’s no such a specialization in Ukraine. But that type of medical care is very different from a local clinic. In a shelter environment, you have lots and lots of animals with little resources, you have to keep diseases under control.

After I finished vet school, I did one year of a shelter internship. 

Together with the Veterinarians Without Borders organization, you conducted and published a webinar about medical care in Ukrainian 

The key point of the lecture was reducing stress. When animals are stressed, just like us, their immune systems go down and then they are more susceptible to disease. In the shelter environment, where lots of animals are mixing together, disease can spread really quickly. Which is why having separate rooms is important. And reducing noise, not having cats next to dogs.

What do you enjoy the most in your job?

When I work with wild animals, for instance, when an animal comes to me first, it’s injured or sick, and I’m able to fix it, and I get to see it get to the point where it’s healthy and can go back to the wild. Those releases are absolutely my favorite moments. 

I am often asked about the lives of medieval people: what they ate and drank, how they treated illnesses, what made them happy, how they loved, and what they sought for happiness. However, no one has ever asked about the lives of medieval dogs. Did they buy them soft cushions and toys? Did they search for unknown delicacies to feed them? In short, was the life of medieval dogs significantly harder than that of modern dogs?

In my opinion, the answer to this question can reveal as much about medieval society as the study of exclusively “human” history. A society’s attitude towards animals reflects its core values. Therefore, I propose delving into the complex history of medieval dogs.

This history is complicated not by a lack of sources—there are many, and they are very diverse. The complexity arises when we try to separate the symbolic from the real. Dogs in medieval records appear not only as real flesh-and-blood animals but also as symbols of friendship, loyalty, civilization, and even savagery and envy.

Dogs were an integral part of medieval households. Ancient Romans also kept dogs for protection and companionship. Numerous mosaics bearing the inscription “Cave Canem” (Latin for “beware of the dog”) at the entrances of homes indicate this constant presence of dogs in the ancient world.

In the Middle Ages, however, guarding was only a secondary task compared to hunting. All feudal nobility had to participate in regular hunts, during which dogs were essential helpers. Detailed accounts of hunts and hunting dogs can be found in Gaston III de Foix’s treatise The Book of the Hunt. The count began writing this treatise on May 1, 1387, a few days before the Feast of the True Cross, which marked the beginning of the hunting season. Gaston III de Foix spent two years writing this unique treatise. The book contains 85 chapters and magnificent miniature illustrations. In one miniature, the artist depicts scenes of everyday care for hunting dogs: washing paws and bodies, trimming nails, checking teeth, and so on. The author discusses the animals hunted and those used in hunting, not limiting himself to formal descriptions but also addressing their psychology.

Hunting dogs were much more than just hunting aides; they were friends in life and death. This is confirmed by medieval tombstones—gisants. Rarely were they without dogs curled up at the feet of their owners. For example, on the tombstone of the Archbishop of Canterbury (1381–1396), a dog with a precious collar sits faithfully at the feet of the master. Its eyes are open, and its head raised as if still guarding the peace of the archbishop.

Collars in the Middle Ages were not just items of material culture or decoration. They had symbolic meaning. In the miniature “The Restrained and the Unrestrained” from the Dutch manuscript “Deeds and Sayings of the Ancient Romans,” peasants and aristocracy feast at two tables. Although the miniature adorned an ancient treatise, it illustrates the realities of the late Middle Ages. Peasants drink, eat, and embrace unrestrainedly, while the nobility dines decorously and nobly. Observing this instructive scene is a dog standing between the two different tables as if comparing the two life strategies. The fact that the dog wears a collar symbolizes the tamed human nature rising above instincts.

In comparison, just look at the dogs fighting over a bone in numerous late medieval and Renaissance “Last Suppers.” In the “Last Supper” of 1527 by Dutch master Pieter Coecke van Aelst, two dogs fight over a bone at Judas’ feet. One has white and red fur, reminiscent of Judas’ red hair in the painting (red-haired people were often considered traitors in the Middle Ages). These dogs symbolize the “low” and “animal” nature, including that of Judas, and thus wear no collars.

In the Middle Ages, a hunting dog could even become a saint, albeit inadvertently. This was the fate of a greyhound who, after a tragic death, was transformed into Saint Guinefort. The Dominican monk Stephen of Bourbon recounts this story with evident disapproval in his treatise On Superstitions. Once, parents and a nurse left an infant unattended. During this time, a giant snake slithered towards the cradle, intending to kill the child. The faithful dog guarding the heir attacked and killed the snake. When the nurse returned, she saw blood on the floor, the dog’s muzzle, the cradle, and the child. So she made a hasty conclusion and began yelling that the dog had killed the child. The enraged master rushed in and immediately killed the dog. Only afterward did they realize that the baby was peacefully sleeping in the cradle, and the remains of the snake were on the floor.

“Realizing then the true circumstances and deeply regretting the unjust killing of such a useful dog, they threw him into a well in front of the estate, piled a large heap of stones on top, and planted trees to commemorate the event. Now, by God’s will,” wrote Stephen of Bourbon with righteous satisfaction, “the estate is destroyed, its inhabitants have left, and the area has become desolate. But the peasants, having heard about the dog’s behavior and how he was killed for a praiseworthy deed, visited this place, honored the dog as a martyr, prayed to him when they were ill or in need, and many fell victim to the temptations and illusions of the devil, who thus misled people. But above all, women with sick or weak children would come to this place.” Despite the Catholic Church’s efforts to eradicate this superstition, it was unsuccessful. The custom of coming and praying to “Saint Guinefort” for health and recovery for oneself or one’s child persisted until the late 20th century.

While men preferred hunting breeds like greyhounds, alaunts, mastiffs, and spaniels, women often kept Maltese lapdogs. Unlike hunting dogs that lived outside under the care of designated servants, lapdogs (and, from the 16th century, pugs and Pekingese) lived in the private spaces of their mistresses. Sometimes they were so close that the ladies suffered from fleas as much as the dogs themselves.

Such pets appear in contemporary art as symbols of marital fidelity. Perhaps the most famous is Jan van Eyck’s The Arnolfini Portrait, where a Maltese lapdog stands between the husband and wife in the foreground, symbolizing fidelity as the foremost marital virtue. Its fur is almost the same color as Giovanni Arnolfini’s woolen cloak, but the dog stands closer to the woman, linking them together.

Ladies cared for their pets. Geoffrey Chaucer humorously criticizes an abbess in The Canterbury Tales who fed her dogs roast meat and white bread—products that were inaccessible to most medieval people.

Thus, not much has changed since medieval times in the attitude towards dogs. They accompanied their owners everywhere; they were given beautiful collars and fed the tastiest food. Gaston III de Foix boasted, like other dog owners throughout the centuries, “I speak to my dogs as I would to a person […], and they understand and fulfill my will better than any man in my household.” Today, we no longer expect our will to be carried out by servants, but we still believe that no one will understand us better than our canine friends.

The texts in the Columns section reflect only the author’s opinion and do not necessarily align with the position of UAnimals media’s editorial team.

The UAnimals volunteer community is celebrating its first anniversary! Today, it boasts over 2,300 members, each contributing uniquely to animal protection. Volunteers assist in shelters, participate in nature clean-ups, evacuate animals from dangerous areas, or distribute food in frontline cities and villages.

Viktoriya Ovsiannikova recently returned from such a trip. She distributed a hundred kilograms of cat and dog food in the Kharkiv region, including in Zolochiv and the villages of Hubarivka and Kalynove, which have been ravaged by shelling. In these cities and villages, residents care for many animals abandoned by their previous owners.

Viktoriya lives in Bohodukhiv, Kharkiv region, where she works as a secretary in a medical institution. Her husband, who initially helped with animal volunteering, joined the Armed Forces this year.

Outside of her work with UAnimals, Viktoriya leads an active animal protection life. Thanks to her and her friend Yuliya Kachkariova, many homeless animals find new families. They also ensure these animals are sterilized, aiming to reduce the number of stray dogs and cats in Bohodukhiv. Viktoriya shared all of this in the interview.

Operation Puppy Rescue and Animal Protection in Bohodukhiv   

I have always felt sorry for stray animals, but what could I do? I would feed them and move on. I lacked the resolve to do more until one particular incident.

In 2019, a video appeared on our community’s social media about a homeless dog in Bohodukhiv that had given birth to ten puppies. The video urged people to adopt them. In our town lives a veterinarian, Yuliya Kachkariova, who had previously given me advice over the phone when my cat was sick. We have kept in touch on social media. Then, we both saw the post about the street dogs at the same time and decided to go see if we could help.

In the meantime, the puppies had become a bit too popular: many people approached them, scaring them into hiding. Yuliya and I spent two months catching them from under concrete slabs and giving them away. It was an entire operation that brought us closer together.

This friendship gave me the strength and support to help animals more actively. Yuliya already had experience finding homes for stray cats and dogs, but now we do it together. We also often temporarily take animals in because there are no shelters in our town.

Yuliya spays and neuters stray dogs and cats for free. We also have a charity account where residents of the Bohodukhiv community can donate money for spaying and neutering or treatment if they want to support stray animals.

Previously, Bohodukhiv residents were wary of sterilization, especially the religious ones. They believed it was a sin. But recently, a local priest had his dog sterilized and told his congregation about it. Since then, their attitude has changed. They say: sterilize your pet and have a clear conscience!

Practically all the stray animals in our town are now sterilized. I believe this has led to fewer aggressive animals in Bohodukhiv. They roam the town peacefully, and no one chases them away. On the contrary, lately, I’ve seen people placing water for the animals in the park and near various businesses. Many people at the market take care of the strays. Attitudes toward animals in Bohodukhiv are changing. I hope that in the future, conflicts between people and animals will be minimal.

Legal Victory  

In June, a person in our community was punished for animal abuse. I spent seven months visiting various authorities to make it happen, and I was the one who reported it to the police.

In a village near Bohodukhiv, there is a man who kept animals but didn’t feed them. We believe he took his dog to the forest, put it in a sack, and abandoned it. The dog chewed through the sack and survived, later found by people. However, there was no direct evidence that the owner did this, although neighbors had long known about his treatment of animals. Later, this same man got a puppy and chained it up. After some time, the puppy died from the cold.

I didn’t know how to proceed. I should have called the investigative team, but a patrol arrived instead. Again, it was impossible to prove that the owner’s actions led to the animal’s death. But I am sure that was the case.

The owner was fined for improper animal care (under Article 154 of the Code of Administrative Offenses). Previously, no one in the community dealt with such cases. If someone beat a dog or took it to the forest, people would say, “Well, it’s their dog, they can do whatever they want.” Now, we have a precedent where the owner was punished for such actions.

And now, I know how to act in such cases.

Evacuating Animals from Kharkiv: Combat Parrots and Other Rescues

At the beginning of the full-scale invasion, my husband and I transported many animals. When serious shelling began in Kharkiv, it was quiet in our area. We understood that many people would leave Kharkiv, and there would be trouble with animals there. I was subscribed to many Kharkiv groups, and people started posting, “Take our dog” and “Looking for families for our puppies.” We brought animals from Kharkiv to Bohodukhiv and found owners for them. I was most surprised that in difficult times, people were willing to take in animals, some even multiple ones.

On our first trip, such exotic animals were in the car! Five puppies were in two boxes in the trunk. Two cages with parrots were on the back seat, and a guinea pig was in a small carrier. When we approached a checkpoint, the soldiers looked into our car, and my husband said, “Do you need combat parrots?”

The emotions are hard to describe… I remember now with tears in my eyes. It was scary then, but everything worked out thanks to people who were willing to take animals into their families.

Violetta Tohobytska, a doctoral student at the National University of Civil Protection of Ukraine, helped us a lot in Kharkiv. She sheltered many animals. Violetta lives in the Kholodna Hora area (a locality in the western part of Kharkiv). She went to Saltivka (the eastern part of the city), which was heavily shelled and took animals to her place. We met her in Kholodna Hora, took the animals, and transported them further. There were people in Kharkiv who went to dangerous areas to save animals.

Sara the Shepherd Dog

In the early days of the full-scale invasion, when Kharkiv residents were hiding in the subway, a woman called me. She said, “I’m a veterinarian. Yesterday, a dog was brought to me in the subway, and they asked me to euthanize it. Now I’m sitting in the underground with a shepherd dog. Can you find it a home?” It was a generally healthy shepherd dog named Sara. The people said they were leaving and couldn’t take Sara with them, “If you want, we’ll leave her with you, or we’ll inject her with something, and that will be it.” Of course, the doctor refused. These people came back the next day and said they tried to poison the dog, but the poison didn’t work. They just left Sara there and went away.

Sara was 9 years old and, though not ill, had poor eyesight. It was wartime, people were leaving… And here was an old shepherd dog — who would need her?

It was February 26, 2022. People were afraid to go to Kharkiv. Even my husband refused. I found a driver in Bohodukhiv who still went and picked up Sara.

I was worried because she was an adult dog, and I had only dealt with puppies before. But it turned out that Sara was very smart, well-behaved, and calm. We concluded she was a service dog because she knew all the commands.

My friend Olha agreed to take her. She prepared a place in the boiler room with good conditions. But soon, she called and said, “You know, the dog is missing. “How could she get out of the boiler room if you have a door there?” We started searching. The shepherd dog had poor vision, and there was a lot of traffic in the city center! I had already lost hope, but the next day, I saw her at the market. We found Sara.

There were cameras in that room. We reviewed the footage. It was interesting to see how the dog got out. It turned out Sara approached the door, pressed the handle with her paw, and went out.

Olha had taken the shepherd dog temporarily but decided to keep her permanently. So, Sara still lives with her.

To the Shelter with Puppies, But Without the Husband

Over the past two years, we have found homes for about 300 animals. Even I am amazed by these numbers.

At first, I was scared to take in new animals. At the beginning of the full-scale invasion, I had five puppies at home. I thought, “If we have to hide quickly, how will I get all the animals to the basement?”

Later, when we experienced explosions, my daughter would be the first to run to the basement with two dogs, followed by me with a box containing the five puppies. Once, I got stuck in the doorway with this box. My husband stood behind me, unable to get out because I was blocking the way. He said, “You see, you saved the animals, but you forgot me here!” There were times when my husband was already in the basement, and I was still running around the house, collecting the puppies.

I am always filled with joy when I find a home for a cat or a dog. If I have helped some living being, I tell myself, “Vika, you didn’t live this day in vain!” I have found my purpose in helping animals. A person can help themselves, but only a person can help an animal. 

Before Pixel, our pit bull, entered our lives, I had first a poodle and then a Dogue de Bordeaux. I never experienced the kind of intolerance from people toward either of these dogs that I have faced with the pit bull. Does this breed really deserve the aggression directed at it by society? Sometimes I feel like I need a T-shirt that says, “Don’t bully my bully!”

It was 2019. I saw a photo of a not-yet-Pixel in a Facebook post: a friend wrote that someone had abandoned a pit bull on the highway, and for three days, they hadn’t been able to retrieve him—he wouldn’t let anyone get close. My friend was searching for someone to foster the dog after they managed to catch him. I convinced my husband that we could take the dog in for a few days. Why not? What could possibly go wrong?

Before Pixel, neither my husband nor I had any experience coexisting with pit bulls. We had heard the same things everyone else had: their jaws have several tons of pressure, they’re aggressive, and they’re “fighting dogs.” I don’t know how we managed to push aside these stereotypes in our own heads and decide to take in a stray pit bull, but we did it.

Some people managed to catch the dog on the highway and bring him to the vet. So, my husband spent five hours a day sitting next to Pixel, “holding his paw” while he received IV treatments. It was then that their extraordinary bond started to form.

I remember when we first brought Pixel home, my mother was lying on the bed, flat on her back, her hands covering her eyes, and wailing, “No! No! If you keep this dog, you’ll never see me here again! It’s either him or me!” She was terrified that this “fighting dog” would tear us all apart, especially the children. She desperately questioned why we would bring a huge dog off the street rather than adopt a cute little puppy. When I brushed it off, saying I didn’t want to deal with puppy messes, my son backed her up, “Better puddles of pee around the house than puddles of blood!” Yes, it was difficult for all of them to get past their prejudices about pit bulls. But Pixel was the one who took the initiative and won their hearts.

The decision to keep him permanently wasn’t easy. He was a dog with no known history (or, rather, with too much unknown history), displaying animal aggression and numerous traumas. He was scared to pass through doorways, feared any raised hand, wouldn’t let us take his measurements (for winter clothes), didn’t know how to play with toys, and wouldn’t let anyone touch his neck. He needed an enormous amount of understanding, an approach to his wounded soul, and intensive training with dog handlers. And we took on that challenge.

We adapted our lives to suit him—he deserved this. We chose a house in Irpin specifically with Pixel in mind: it had a large, enclosed yard where he could run freely (because of his animal aggression, walks around town were nearly impossible; managing 34 kilograms of muscle was rather difficult, especially for me). We changed our lifestyle and work schedules to ensure that we could run with him daily deep in the forest, where no one else was around.

Despite his animal aggression, Pixel was not dangerous to people. He was the gentlest dog I had ever known—intelligent and empathetic. And his animal aggression was directed only at larger ones; he left smaller ones alone. He even protected a gaggle of goslings he had been given to care for. He was so gentle with Latochka, the Chihuahua who joined our family in 2020… And he was absolutely fascinated by the world of toys, treasuring each gift he received! Pixel never destroyed a single toy in his life; instead, he would lick them and “care” for them. Yes, he was very peculiar, but also truly incredible (I write “was” because, in 2021, Pixel did not survive a surgical procedure and passed away on the operating table)!

What truly struck me, however, was the attitude of others toward Pixel. Almost every walk we took was accompanied by hostile comments about the dog and aggressive remarks aimed at me as his owner. Every discussion about pit bulls on social media where I tried to defend the breed led to a barrage of hate in the comments. I could guess where it was coming from.

I would come across posts that portrayed pit bulls solely as killer dogs. For example, one media outlet used a photo collage showing a pit bull apparently snarling at a child. The boy, terrified, covered his face with his hands, and the pit bull’s teeth were almost touching his face… In reality, the designers had used a picture of pit bulls at play, cut out the image of one, and placed it beside the child. A completely manipulative collage!

Whenever Ukrainian publications mentioned a dog attacking a person, regardless of the breed, the accompanying image was often of a pit bull. Things like this infuriated me! I highlighted these manipulations on my social media in an attempt to dispel the stereotype about the breed. I understood that this was why people on the street reacted so aggressively to Pixel and me, why they called the police on us.

But my readers didn’t want to hear about these manipulations. They said: “But pit bulls are ALWAYS attacking children. Just look at what the American press writes!”

Even the leisure options that were marketed as dog-friendly were out of reach for us. People were afraid of pit bulls. We never let Pixel off his leash unless we were deep in an empty forest, and we always kept a muzzle on him. But even that didn’t help. I felt constantly harassed, no matter where we went.

Only elderly grandmothers, who were disconnected from the continuous media barrage about “killer dogs,” treated Pixel kindly. I remember one time when we were walking downtown, and an old lady, seeing Pixel from a distance, exclaimed, “Ohhh, what a sweet doggy! Such a good boy!”—and came straight over to him. And Pixel went to her, and they hugged and kissed each other: a “toothy crocodile” and an adorable old lady.

When the war began, I temporarily moved to the United States, where I received a job offer at a university. With me was Latka—the Chihuahua we had brought from Ukraine. But his longing for the pit bull was showing: the more of a dog there is, the better.

Despite all of Pixel’s quirks (quirks due to his complicated past that remained largely a mystery to us), I realized that pit bulls were the best breed for me personally. They are intelligent and active, loyal and a bit goofy, straightforward without any deceit.

After a month of searching, Burya (Storm), a gray “half bull” (so-called because she’s half the size of Pixel), entered our lives.

The first thing I did then was take a service dog instructor course. In the U.S., there are three categories of assistance dogs: emotional support dogs (which don’t require any formal training and can be of any breed), service dogs (like guide dogs), and psychiatric service dogs. The latter two must possess specific qualities and go through a three-part training program. This includes general obedience, then something akin to a city behavior course, and, finally, specialized tasks based on the needs of the person they are helping. By the age of five months, Burya had learned the entire necessary program and later successfully passed the exam.

Why did I decide to do this? Remembering my experience with Pixel in Ukraine, I wanted to prevent any issues with the dog on account of her breed. After all, when a dog wears a red harness and a service dog badge, people look at that first rather than the breed.

However, we never ended up needing the harness or badge—there was simply no need. The difference in attitude toward pit bulls between the U.S. and Ukraine is striking. Here, there have been ongoing projects for years aimed at overcoming stereotypes, and they work! Yes, not all states allow pit bulls. But in those where they are permitted, they’re treated just like any other dog. I lived in Colorado, Pennsylvania, and New Jersey, so I can discuss them specifically.

First of all, dogs here don’t wear muzzles, regardless of the breed. You can’t buy a muzzle at a chain pet supermarket because it’s not in demand. They are probably available in specialty shops, but I’ve never seen one personally—neither for sale nor on the street.

Secondly, keeping dogs on a leash is a universal requirement for all breeds. There’s no distinction that says, “These breeds must be leashed or muzzled because they’re ‘killers,’ but these breeds are fine.” The rules apply to everyone. You can’t even let your dog off-leash in the forest. The only exception is specially designated dog parks, which are available everywhere and easily accessible.

Dog parks are divided into zones for “gentle” and “rough” dogs. Bulky pit bulls can freely play in an environment with other similarly built dogs without the risk of trampling anyone… The parks are well-equipped, with toys, benches for owners, water, and some dog exercise equipment. So yes, even though the rule is that dogs must always be leashed, there’s an alternative in the form of such environments.

Thirdly, the fact that you have a pit bull does not change how people treat you. No one grabs their children in fear, avoids you during a walk, or pulls their own dogs away—instead, everyone is eager to hug and pet Burya. The attitude toward her is wonderful! Everywhere pets are allowed, she is welcomed. There’s no bias against her because of the shape of her head or her overall phenotype.

Shelters in the U.S. are overflowing with pit bulls. I became curious about why this is. Shelter workers explained that the breed is very popular among people with limited financial means. So, these dogs often end up in shelters when their owners, for instance, cannot afford to keep them (it’s extremely expensive in America). Only after seeing how popular the breed is here did I understand why there are so many reports in the American press—often cited by pit bull critics in Ukraine—about attacks by pit bulls. It’s simple: if Labradors were just as popular, shelters would be full of them, and they’d be the ones making headlines for most attacks on humans.

Regarding the term “fighting breed,” there’s actually no such classification in dog breed taxonomy. Any dog involved in fights can be considered a “fighting dog.” Historically, pit bulls have indeed been used for this purpose more often. Initially, the ancestors of modern pit bulls were used for baiting large animals—bulls, bears, and others—a cruel form of entertainment. They were ideal for this task because they are strong and resilient. When this “entertainment” was banned in the 1830s, dog owners shifted to dog fighting. Over time, pit bulls were selectively bred to excel in these new roles: they were made even stronger, with a high pain tolerance, exceptional endurance, and loyalty to their owners—humans needed to be able to pull the dog away from the heat of a fight without getting bitten.

A dog is not inherently a “fighting” dog. It is people who make them fighters. Any dog can be turned aggressive. Similarly, those same people can make a dog into a helper, a caregiver, a nanny, or a guardian. Pour love into any breed or mix, and you’ll have a “kissing dog.” Abuse any breed or mix, break its psyche, drag it into fights, and you’ll end up with a “fighting dog.”

Pit bulls are simply dogs that have been dealt a bad hand. They’ve persistently been made into “fighters.” But that’s not in their true nature. So why don’t we turn them into kissing dogs instead? All it takes is patience, love, and freedom from stereotypical thinking.

The texts in the Columns section reflect only the author’s opinion and do not necessarily align with the position of UAnimals media’s editorial team.

A few minutes by car from Kyiv, you arrive in the village of Chubynske. Here, four bears and a wolf live at the Bila Skelia sanctuary, which means White Rock in Ukrainian. I enter the gates, fully confident that the bears will be somewhere far away and that I’ll only see them through a camera lens with a 5x zoom. If only they would poke their noses out!

However, almost immediately, a nearly 300-kilogram bear named Synochok approaches the fence and watches my every step intently.

“Watching a moving object is a natural behavior for a predator. It doesn’t mean he will attack, but he’s curious. When people come with cameras, he openly enjoys himself. You are potential prey,” says the sanctuary’s co-founder and predator behavior and ecology specialist, Maryna Shkvyria.  

Well, it’s good that the bear got curious and approached me. After all, nothing but curiosity would make him leave his important business deep in the enclosure. He has a choice of where to be, when, and what to do. The task of the rehabilitation center for animals rescued from cages is precisely this: to create conditions that help them make choices. It turns out this can be quite difficult.

Climbing, Running, Swimming, Chewing

There is no actual rock at Bila Skelia. However, an artificial white rock once stood in the enclosure where bears Liubochka and Mykhasyk used to live. That enclosure was not here but at a shelter in the Zhytomyr region.

That shelter appeared in Berezivka back in 2012 and was initially called Hope. The international foundation Four Paws managed it, which later founded another bear sanctuary, Domazhyr, in the Lviv region. Consequently, Hope came under the care of the Save Wild Foundation and became the Bila Skelia sanctuary. Some of the bears there gradually moved to Domazhyr. Bila Skalia was then developed at a new location in Chubynske, and operations began in 2020.

“It was difficult,” says zoologist Yehor Yakovliev, Maryna’s husband and co-founder of Bila Skelia. “We drew the sketches of the sanctuary with Maryna, and I did the more precise planning and calculations. Then, the plumbing and welding work began, which I and nine other people carried out. We transported the bears in 2020, too. While they wintered in small enclosures, we built the large ones. We worked all year.”

Synochok looks at me from behind the net. Though he is clearly visible, he is separated from me by a 3.5-meter-high fence and two layers of Electric shepherd is an electrified fence that does not allow animals to go beyond a certain area. electric shepherd. Safety is the number one concern in the design of bear enclosures. In addition to visible fences, there are also hidden ones.

Yehor explains, “There is also a net in the ground so the bear cannot dig a way out. A bear is a compulsive animal. For example, if it senses water flowing underground, it will dig very long and persistently, breaking structures. A bear can remove a cubic meter (35 cubic feet) of soil daily. It’s a big challenge for us to fix everything they break.”

Inside each enclosure, there is a small pool and a den. Bears love interacting with objects and feeling different textures, so the enclosure has plenty of logs, branches, and stones of various shapes that the animals can move around in various ways.

Synochok had never seen anything like this before. 

He spent nine years in a circus cage and first set foot on the grass at the sanctuary in the Zhytomyr region. Here in Chubynske, he started making himself at home: he moved stones and logs around to rearrange his den.

Maryna Shkvyria says, “A bear in a rehabilitation center is not a wild animal. It doesn’t know competition with wild relatives, doesn’t hunt, doesn’t live in large territories, and doesn’t fight for a mate. However, a bear still needs to exhibit natural behavior: climbing, running, swimming, chewing, digging the ground. And for this, we create semi-natural conditions.”

Less Is More

What makes an ideal enclosure? The Guidelines for Keeping and Breeding Wild Animals in Captivity and Semi-Free Conditions, for example, require an enclosure for one bear to be at least 200 square meters (2152 square feet). 

The residents of Bila Skelia have plenty of space. Except for Chada’s pool, which looks more like a jacuzzi. Sometimes visitors glance at the small pool sideways: maybe she needs a bigger one? 

“Chada’s pool is small so that she doesn’t drown. If something happens, we can’t pull her out by the scruff, but if we sedate her with a A syringe dart is a tool used by veterinarians to administer injections to animals from a distance. Some syringes are thrown by hand, while others are launched using a pneumatic device. dart syringe, she’ll drown before we can reach her,” explains Yehor.

Standards for keeping bears in developed countries don’t require larger spaces or deeper pools. Like in Ukraine, documents only outline minimum requirements for animal care.

To make a bear’s habitat in captivity comfortable and safe, the specific needs of the furry tenant must be considered. A bear cub to be released into the wild requires one set of conditions, while an old, injured bear needs completely different ones.

In developed countries, professional associations directly influence who keeps wild animals in captivity and how they do it. They issue licenses or fine irresponsible owners. Such associations, Yehor asserts, monitor not only compliance with regulations but also the safety and comfort of the animals. In Ukraine, this process is controlled solely by government agencies. Since not every employee is an expert in wild animal behavior, prohibitions or permissions are mostly based on numbers alone.

Tasks of Reconfiguration

The sanctuary currently has five enclosures, one of which is unfinished. So-called boxes, small enclosures for veterinary procedures, are attached at the edges.

“We don’t have direct contact with the bears. We don’t enter their enclosures — it’s dumb and dangerous. All the enclosures and boxes are connected through gates that we can open remotely. This allows us to move an animal to another enclosure if needed and enter the vacant one to clean, for instance,” explains Maryna.

These bear relocations resemble a game of sliding puzzles. For example, if you need to bring a log into Synochok’s enclosure, Chada, who lives next door, is asked to move into the box connected to her enclosure. Then Synochok is coaxed into Chada’s enclosure. Workers can enter the vacant enclosure once the gate behind the animal is closed. But how do you “ask” a bear to move?

“This is where veterinary training comes in,” explains Maryna. “When an animal is under human care, you inevitably train it to do something, like responding to its name. When we call the animal by name, the bear knows that it will get a treat if it comes to the box or another enclosure. It stays there for a while and then returns to find more water in the pool, a new toy, or something else enjoyable.

There is also target training. This method uses a predator’s natural reaction to an object. The target is an item shown to the bear. We attract the bear’s attention with a ball on a stick. It comes to the box, and we carefully give it food with special tweezers. Next time, we show the target, and the bear understands: ‘Oh, great, I need to move, I’ll get fed, and meanwhile, my slaves will clean up my home.’”

Bears are also trained to respond to gestures. For example, at Bila Skelia, closing and opening a fist is a request to show teeth. In other centers, animals are sometimes asked to stand on their hind legs and show their front ones, or lie down. This helps veterinarians quickly examine the animal from a distance before deciding on sedation.”

Wild Relationships: Abuse and Love

In the enclosure next to Synochok, there’s a commotion. Something heavy splashes into the pool. It turns out that two bears, Liubochka and Mykhasyk, have jumped into the water simultaneously. Liubochka was rescued from circus performers along with Synochok, while Mykhasyk lived in a cage at a restaurant complex.

Mykhasyk was taken from the restaurant in 2017. He was an apathetic, depressive, melancholic young bear, recalls Maryna. A year later, Liubochka arrived, then a two-year-old cub. Initially, she was also very stressed because she had lived without her mother, and bear cubs find orphanhood very difficult. Liubochka would bang against the cage, jump, and fall. The sanctuary decided to introduce Liubochka to Mykhasyk while they were still adolescents. The two quickly bonded.

Maryna says, “In their relationship, Liubochka is the leader. In nature, females are often more active and compulsive, which is true not only in bears. Liubochka always checks things first and then brings Mykhasyk along. If she fixates on something too much, he distracts her. He hugs her, sleeps next to her, calms her down. He might even give her a slap. There is abuse among bears, after all: the stronger one is the leader. However, since Liubochka is emotional and energetic, she sets the tone of the relationship. If Liubochka wakes up in the middle of winter, she’ll wake Mykhasyk because she’s bored. If she wants to swim, she’ll approach and push him into the pool. Sometimes Mykhasyk reaches for an apple in the pool, and Liubochka sneaks up on him and kicks him in the ass! He goes into the pool! While Liubochka runs away.”

In the wild, bears live solitary lives. Despite this, they sometimes display behavior akin to friendship. For example, an old and a young bear might travel together in search of food.

Usually, bears practice “free love,” but some pairs always meet during the breeding season and can maintain relationships for decades. There are also so-called spring and autumn romances: young bears that are not yet ready to mate just walk together.

Wolves, too, occasionally live at Bila Skelia: there was a polar wolf named Dzha and a gray wolf named Dora. Dzha passed away, and Dora moved to Greece, into even better conditions. Currently, a separate enclosure is occupied by Nymphadora, a half-wolf, half-dog. Poachers took her from her den as a cub. When the grown animal began to show aggression, the owner gave her away to activists.

“I see your nose, come out!” calls Maryna, but Nymphadora doesn’t want to come out of her den. Relationships between bears and wolves vary.

Dzha was friends with the bears. “She and Liubochka used to race each other!” recalls Maryna. “With gray Dora, there was no reaction. However, Liubochka wanted to play with Nymphadora, but the wolf got scared. She’s still getting used to her neighbors.”

Stereotypy in Bears

Liubochka approaches the fence, shifting from one paw to another. This is stereotypy — repetitive movements that an animal might perform to cope with stress. Animals that have lived in poor environments — cramped, dull places where they have nothing to think about or engage with — are particularly prone to stereotypy.

As Maryna explains, “Stereotypy is part of natural behavior. However, when an animal lives in unacceptable conditions, this behavior becomes more frequent and intense, sometimes leading to self-harm. Stereotypy won’t disappear entirely — the issue is the frequency and intensity of its manifestations. Maybe Liubochka is showing stereotypy now in response to positive stress: she’s curious about our dog, wondering where the bucket was taken… Most importantly, she’s not in a cage, so she can stop and do something else at any moment.”

It’s crucial to give the animal the opportunity to choose: to hide in the den if they want, to come closer to visitors if they want, to rest, or to swim. “The most important thing that circus animals lose is the ability to choose,” says Maryna. “They live in cages and don’t have the choice of where to sleep or when and what to eat. Now they have a choice. But for many rescued animals, it is very difficult to act independently and in a more natural manner.”

There’s a splashing sound coming from the next enclosure. It’s Chada, a Tien Shan bear — an endangered subspecies — splashing around in the pool. Chada spent 20 years in a cramped cage, 12 of which were in a circus.

Chada arrived at Bila Skelia in 2019. Now 26 years old, she is considered quite a respectable age for a bear. The caretakers say she acts like a fussy grandmother. Unlike the others, Chada couldn’t care less about me and my camera. She’s focused on splashing in her mini pool.

This behavior is a remnant of stereotypy, which transitioned into a softer form. In this case, it plays a positive role: it keeps the old animal active and prevents apathy.

Yehor explains, “She has her own ideas about the water level in the pool: Chada stops splashing at a certain level. Sometimes, she lowers her head and checks: if the water is too low, she snorts and shows her displeasure, as if to say, ‘Servants, replenish my water.’ They all see us as their servants.”

How a Bear Played a Joke on the Electrician

Whenever I try to film Synochok up close, he turns his back on me. It’s his sense of humor, Yehor and Maryna suggest. Do bears really have a sense of humor?

“They find something primitive funny, like ‘someone slipped on a banana peel,’” says Maryna. “They get happy when you drop something or trip. Bears have this experience, too: they fall, and you can see they can extrapolate it. They see you climb a ladder and watch. If you fall, they are delighted. If they have a chance to shake the ladder, they will.”

“They once had such an opportunity,” Yehor shares. “An electrician was working with cables on a ladder near the box where Mykhasyk was. I was standing nearby to ensure everything was safe. Mykhasyk approached, stretched out his paw, covered it with his other paw, and reached for the ladder to yank it. I noticed this. The electrician got down, and we moved the ladder. Mykhasyk was so frustrated! He even turned away. He didn’t like that his joke was ruined.”

This isn’t the only such instance, Maryna laughs: 

“Bears quickly get used to the electric fence. Some never touch it. Once, we closed the bears in the small enclosures and were working in the large ones. Our dog Rafik came with us and was walking near the electric fence. The bears realized there was a chance Rafik might get into trouble. They gathered in a row and held their breath, trying not to scare him. The dog eventually ran into the electric fence, and they jumped joyfully because they figured out how the system works.”

“Once, we had young bear cubs, and until a certain age, we would enter their enclosure,” Yehor continues. “They always tried to knock a person out. One would distract you while the other approached from behind to push you. For them, it’s a game.”

“There aren’t any complex abstractions here, but it’s already humor. It’s also a sign of intelligence,” concludes Maryna.

Bear Appétit

There is probably no other large animal around here with as varied a diet as the bear. Bears are omnivores: they can feast on both plants and meat, depending on what they find. In search of food, they spend most of their active day and can walk up to 40 kilometers (~25 miles) a day. Therefore, even in semi-natural conditions, you won’t see a dedicated feeder for a bear.

“We need to support their natural feeding behavior,” says Maryna. “Several times a day, we scatter different types of food around the enclosure so the bear has to search for it, just like it does in the wild.”

A significant part of the bears’ diet at the sanctuary consists of seafood, as well as vegetables and fruit: carrots, apples, oranges, pumpkins, and watermelons. Additionally, nuts, boiled eggs, occasional meat, cottage cheese, and a bit of dog food (for its mineral additives) are included in their diet.

“If it’s food we give only every few days, we enter the enclosure and hide it. Sometimes, we freeze fruit or fish in water and throw the ice into the pool for them to retrieve. Sometimes we bring fish in a wheelbarrow and place it under stones. It starts to smell, this grossness. They love that… Bears can even hide their food to let it age. They do this in the wild, too. So, if you see a dead deer covered with twigs, you better run,” Maryna explains.

A Bear in a Rehabilitation Center: What’s the Point?

When a bear that needs to be rescued or whose owners are giving it up is identified, sanctuaries and rehabilitation centers look for a place for it. The organization that has the appropriate conditions and expertise takes in the animal. Rescuers communicate with the owners and prepare the veterinary documents for transportation. They arrive with veterinarians who quickly examine the bear and administer sedation. The bear is transported in a special transport cage. Once at the rehabilitation center, the bear initially stays in a small enclosure to gradually get used to the new conditions. Only then does it move to an enclosure proper: first, a small one for adaptation, then a bigger one.

“We sign an agreement with all owners that they will not keep bears anymore. We aim to indirectly preserve the species by reducing the demand for keeping bear cubs. Therefore, we do not take a bear if we know that new ones will take its place,” Maryna explains. Yehor adds, “We want to contribute to the formation of civil society. Such people will not remain silent when they see animals being kept in terrible conditions.”

The co-founders of the sanctuary emphasize that proper rehabilitation involves more than rescuing an animal from negligent owners; it involves more than simply transferring it from one cage to another.

“This is a field based on science and standards that must not be violated,” says Maryna. “The number of animals kept in unacceptable conditions in captivity does not change. However, there are changes in attitudes. It is now frowned upon to go to a restaurant with a bear in a cage, and in large cities, people have started to look down on circuses with animals. The UAnimals campaign to ban traveling circuses with animals has been effective. The existence of bear sanctuaries — such as in Domazhyr and the Synevyr Park — has also made an impact. People visit rehabilitation centers and then question why a bear runs in the grass and winters in a den in some places, while elsewhere, it sits on concrete in a cage. They write about it on social media. People are gradually changing their attitudes toward wild animals in captivity.” 

Sopha looks over my shoulder. The apples I gave her have been eaten a long time ago. And now she grabs the edge of the lens with her big soft lips and then runs her tongue along the lens. Well, the lens has been licked by a horse. And yet, even so, everything I point it at here seems alive and bright.

Sopha lives in Pegasus shelter among the meadows of the Dnipropetrovsk region.

In addition to horses, there are other domesticated animals, cats, dogs and wild animals — more than 800 in total. How come a small village in central Ukraine had a whole animal rescue centre? Let’s go and find out.

They came from everywhere: Nulyk and goats from the garage roof

About an hour’s drive from Dnipro, and we turn off the highway to Malozakharyne. Having passed it, we roll along the dirt road away from human dwellings. Finally, we hear barking among the paddocks. We have arrived.

“You come here and you have a different mood. You say hello to everyone. It has its own atmosphere that cannot be expressed in words,” smiles Sava, the head of the shelter. “We have raccoons over there, they are inhospitable, always asleep. Let’s go to the pigs instead.”

Okay, let’s go to the pigs. We pass by the stables, and behind them there is the area where the pigs live: a few domestic ones, many Vietnamese and in the last compartment there is a wild boar.

“This wild boar escaped from the farm and we took him,” says Sava. “Only Vova comes in to clean. And no matter how long I’ve been working here, I’ll never go into the stall with the wild boar! To be honest, I’m afraid of him. Come closer, I’ll introduce you.”

The boar’s name is Soma, and he quickly turns to familiarity when we get to know each other: he demands to be scratched. There are special brushes for this purpose. Sava asks the very Vova to scratch Soma’s hair. The man says: “I’m going to him: ‘Soma, Soma!’ — and he obeys. But just in case, I come in with a shovel to shield myself if he gets in a bad mood.”

Soma’s mood is normal. Nearby, goats are being let out of the barn. Sava points to a few of them: “These are Kherson goats — we took them off the roof of a garage in Kherson.”

When the Russians blew up the Kakhovka Hydroelectric Power Plant, many locals from the Dnipropetrovsk region bought boats and went to take the animals, the man says. Then about 200 dogs were brought to Pegasus from the city. Among them was little Chapa. Sava recalls: “We were approaching Antonivskyi Bridge. The Ukrainian Armed Forces warned us not to go there because there was constant shelling. We took the risk. As we were leaving the bridge, we saw a dog running. The shelling starts, and we hear it flying… Can you imagine the adrenaline! We stopped abruptly and tried to catch the dog. She was already shell-shocked, afraid of sharp sounds. I grabbed the dog, and two or three shells fell not far from us.”

The local cats have health problems. All those who could be given away were adopted. There are many more dogs. Pegasus can no longer accept stray animals: there are no enclosures. Now they take only evacuees from the hot spots. “This one here is deaf, from Bakhmut, he’s shell-shocked,” they introduce me to an old dog who lives in front of the quarantine house. “And this is Nulyk — do you know why? He came from the front, from nul (‘nul’ is a zero front line in Ukrainian).“

30 rescued pegasuses 

“Well, let’s go!” a smiling woman approaches me with a bucket of carrots.

This is Olena Rusina, the founder of the shelter. We take the bucket with us to the stables, and Bambi immediately reaches for a carrot. Her nose is slightly crooked, but she hardly seems to care. As a baby, Bambi had a slim chance of survival. With a nose defect like hers, it is almost impossible for a horse to learn to eat on her own. Bambi was put up for sale and bought by Pegasus. Here, she had grated vegetables and fruits for a long time and was taught to eat. And now she calmly bites off an apple from my hands.

The first horses appeared in the shelter in 2013, back in Antonivka. Now, in Malozakharyne, there are 30 of them. 

All of these horses have special needs. None of them can be a “workhorse” — some because of their age, others because of their health. Almost all of them were bought from their owners, who had given them to slaughter.

“We received calls from people saying that cows, sheep, horses needed help… But do you understand how difficult it is to make such a serious decision? They need a place, care and maintenance. Even a healthy horse is expensive to keep, but here there’s a sick one! We took the risk, though, took them and it worked out,” Olena recalls.

Among the horses, there is the shelter’s namesake, Pegasus. He had a leg injury, so it was clear to the owners that the stallion would not be able to carry loads or riders. Now he lives here.

Probably, Liubasha, the mare, has the most problems. She suffers from hypoxia attacks: it is difficult for the animal to breathe, and she has to be connected to an oxygen machine. The mare Adele has cancer. The horse Black, a former athlete, can no longer rest on his hind legs as before. These animals should live in a specialised facility.

The shelter is planning to build a hospital for sick horses. It will have a soft cover and all the conditions for a veterinarian to provide on-site care to the animal. 

Ship of the desert

In the stables, another interested eyes follow me. It’s Yasha.

“He is really like a ship of the desert, the way he looks down on us,” Olena says. Despite his absolutely friendly appearance, a camel is a dangerous animal. “I’m always worried that he won’t bite off someone’s head,” says the owner of the shelter. “We give him watermelons, and he bites them into pieces right away. It’s barely a mouthful for him!”

Yasha came here three years ago. Before that, he lived in a zoo complex near Odesa. There were also predators there: when Yasha got cystitis, they decided to give him to them for food. Pegasus employees took him to the shelter.

“Oh, how we treated him… It was like hunting. We waited for him to lie down to rest, and the nurse had to give him an injection quickly in his ass. And after that, he was hunting for the nurse…”

Only Masha, the donkey, is not afraid of him. Indeed, Yasha virtually raised her. So they decided not to separate them.

A shelter that appeared at the dacha 

Olena had a technical degree, and at the age of 33 she decided that she needed something else. The woman used to treat stray animals and had already settled several dozen dogs at her dacha. That’s why she went to study veterinary medicine: “I wasn’t going to work in a clinic — it was necessary for my dogs,” says Olena. “The girls from the training helped me: after classes, we quickly got into the car and went to the dacha. We treated everyone there and came back. When everyone started using the Internet, it became easier to meet people like them. Someone saves someone else, and then there is nowhere to take them! You can’t throw them away!“

That’s how, in 2006, an animal shelter was set up at the dacha that belonged to Olena’s father. However, it soon became too crowded for them. 

In 2012, all the dogs moved from the dacha to the village of Antonivka. Pigs and goats appeared already there. However, they also had to move from Antonivka: in May 2016, a mudslide hit the shelter and carried the dog kennels and enclosures for a kilometre and a half. “The water in the house was up to our necks. We carried the animals upstream in our arms,” recalls Yana, a shelter worker. People and animals quickly moved to Malozakharyne, to higher ground. They started building Pegasus already there.

Well, the father, the owner of the dacha where it all began, was sceptical at first. Now he takes part in the life of the shelter: “Dad helps in ways you can’t even imagine! He used to grumble and grumble, but now he fosters dogs at his place. And I also have a trick: we don’t actually cry here, but I learned how to do it before my dad. We had puppies with enteritis. I called him, crying, and said, ‘Dad, please take them in…’ And he agreed, and even took them to the clinic for treatment. In fact, my father is proud of me.”

Olena’s son Mykhailo also helps the shelter. It was he who built the first enclosures and made the fences for the paddock and the bathing area for the horses. When I come to the shelter, Mykhailo is just building a hospital for sick animals. 

Working days and nights 

Pegasus is divided into 4 zones: the so-called wild zone, cat zone, dog zone and the farmyard where domestic animals live. This zone is a local feature and even pride: Pegasus is known among animal rights activists as one of the largest shelters with domestic animals. 

“A weekend can be a couple of hours. And you are happy to have these two hours. But you stand there and don’t know what to do with them. Because you’re used to being on all the time,” says Olena. She moved to the village. There is no other way: “Sometimes patients are brought to the shelter at night, and I pull the nurse right out of bed. Or something happens to someone, and it’s already the dead of night! I call the doctor and she says, ‘I’m at home, it’s okay, go ahead!’. And then we take the animal to her… This is my way of life.”

Yes, a nurse works at the shelter, a doctor visits, and a blacksmith comes to the ungulates. Olena’s main task is to plan everything, especially the logistics: who to take and where to go. People from the village work directly with the animals, everyone knows each other.

As I pull out the recorder, they gather in the yard near a pile of firewood. Everyone is focused, and one of the workers is aiming at the pile with a net. It turns out that they are waiting for the cat: he needs to have his procedures done, but the sly one is hiding under the firewood.

“If I’m free, I also work with the animals,” Olena says. “The horse Ruslan, for example, must be driven on ropes for the health of his legs. Sometimes I go to the dogs — they need attention and communication. I don’t do the same thing every day.”

Multiplication problems 

Olena shows me her bank statement: “Wow, how far I’m going negative! I have 36 thousand in credit. This is the clinic, hay, pharmacy… And there are not even petrol costs here!”

The shelter lives on donations, and sometimes charitable foundations help with food for dogs and cats. However, hay is hard to get:

“People are more likely to donate for cats and dogs,“ Olena explains. “And if you write that you have nothing to feed your horses… It’s harder. If we had money, when the mowing started, we would have bought hay in advance — the price was better then. That year, a bale of hay cost 50 hryvnias in the season, and now it costs 75, 80, 100… A bale is food for one horse or cow per day. For a camel — 2 bales. For 3 donkeys — 1 bale. But hay is the hardest thing to raise money for.”

Yana and her savages

“Lena acts with her heart. And I am responsible for rationality,” says Yana.

The woman has been working at the shelter ever since it appeared in Antonivka. She and Olena met on New Year’s Eve in 2012. They have been working together since then. 

“I was 17 years old,” says Yana, “and I worked as a dispatcher for a transportation company. Someone threw away a puppy and it was running around near my work. It was so cute. I realised that the dog would get hit by a car if it stayed there. So I started looking for a place to take it. I found a shelter, and they said: either pay money or come to work. I promised to work for them. However, the work turned out to be completely different from what I had agreed on. At that time, someone poisoned the dogs in that shelter. I worked off by collecting corpses.”

Yana did not study to be a veterinarian, but she mastered the protocols for treating wild animals on her own. The shelter gradually began to accept wild injured animals: foxes caught in traps, birds with broken wings. Then exotic animals from nurseries and private zoos came. Most of them arrived sick. 

“Our raccoons are very fat,” says Yana. “It’s my mistake. Shall I put a treadmill or something? There are ropes… Dusya is so clumsy when she chases me away with her hand. I can tell all raccoons apart, they are completely different to me.” 

A steppe marmot, foxes and two wolves have apartments in the “wild zone”. Common raccoon dogs are their neighbours. Despite their names, these animals and raccoons belong to different families. Both are predators, but these are the raccoon dogs that particularly do not mind biting an unwary visitor. Olena laments: “Sometimes schoolchildren come on excursions, but the children manage to stick their fingers into the enclosure. They stand like this: ‘A raccoon, a cute one…’ And they put their fingers inside!”

Amber eyes stare at me from the last enclosure in the “wild zone”. It’s a wild fox. When someone set fire to the dead wood, it got caught in the fire and was completely burned. This fox is the only one who has at least a small chance to return to nature. The other foxes of Pegasus will not survive there: they are either very injured or have long been accustomed to humans. 

Yana plans to equip their enclosure so that the conditions are as close to natural as possible. Perhaps the foxes will even be able to build their own dens. 

***

The car sways gently on the dirt road again, moving away from Pegasus. Iryska, Yana’s dachshund, climbs onto my lap. And now someone is trying to lick the camera again.

Careful observations of animal behaviour, searching for locations for their safe movement and charity art exhibitions to help shelters — all this is done by students of the Junior Academy of Sciences of Ukraine in their projects. We got acquainted with several teenagers to ask them about their animal protection ideas and research.

So, together with the JASU, we present the young authors of scientific and social projects who make this world a more humane place.

Both elk and crab have to cross the road

Yehor Basatskyi likes to play basketball and learn languages — English and German. He studies at Liko School in Kyiv.

Last year, Yegor received an honorary award at the international school project competition on ecology GENIUS Olympiad Ukraine. The boy researched where ecoducts could be built on the future Kyiv Bypass Road. He will tell you what it is and why it’s important.

An ecoduct is a bridge over the road or a tunnel under it. It is built so that animals can safely cross the road. Ecoducts save both animals and people from accidents.

For example, if there is a pond on one side of the road, and an animal lives on the other side, it has to get to the water somehow. With an ecoduct, it won’t have to cross the road in front of cars. And also, sometimes an animal lives in one part of the forest, and there is prey in another. People have built a road and blocked the animal’s usual route. Ecoducts are built so that animals can move through this obstacle.

When I started working on the project for the Junior Academy, I didn’t even know what ecoducts were. Then I delved into the topic and found out that many of them were built both in America and Europe. I went on a trip and started noticing ecoducts: I saw bridges for large animals in Poland and Austria. In fact, there are also tunnels, but they are just harder to notice.

Ecoducts are built not only for large animals like deer and wild boars but also for turtles and crabs. On Christmas Island in the Indian Ocean, there is an unusual bridge for crabs. Every year, millions of these animals simultaneously head from the centre of the island to the ocean to mate. Special tunnels were built for them, and where it wasn’t possible to make a tunnel, they built a rectangular bridge 5 metres high. Its “road surface” is a mesh that crabs can easily cling to with their legs. Moreover, in Japan, there is a passage for turtles under the railroad. And the most interesting thing for me was to learn that in Asia and South America there are ecoducts for monkeys: these are ropes above the road, hanging like lianas, so that monkeys can move from one part of the forest to another.

Both near Kyiv and in Polissia, we have deer, wolves, foxes and roe deer. And even for small animals like hares, for example, ecoducts can be built.

My project was related to the Kyiv Bypass Road. I looked at where it should pass: where the forests were, where the water bodies were. I learned about the surrounding reserves and the animals living there. I also received statistics on accidents with animals in Ukraine. I thought about how the road could interfere with the routes of animals. So, where the highways divide the animal habitats, I suggested building ecoducts. For example, near Bucha, the road should pass through the forest. In one part of it, there is a pond on the Bucha River. An ecoduct can be built there so that elks, deer, roe deer or wild boars can safely reach the water.

How do predators feel in the zoo?

Sofiia loves animals very much and can easily find common ground with them. She has a cat, 4 guinea pigs, 5 rats and 4 mice.

In her research paper for the Junior Academy of Sciences, she studied how the number of zoo visitors affected the behaviour of lions and tigers living in captivity. Sofiia took second place at the All-Ukrainian Contest for the Defence of Scientific Research Projects of the JASU in the Zoology section in 2023.

Disclaimer from UAnimals media: we are against capturing animals from the wild to keep them in zoos. However, we appreciate Sofiia’s research: it’s important to care for those animals that are already in captivity and take into account their needs for solitude and interaction.

I’ve always enjoyed communicating with animals, so I joined a group of young naturalists. It was there that I decided to write a research paper. I wanted to study the behaviour of tigers and lions because they are very intelligent animals.

My research supervisor and I were thinking about the most useful topic. We settled on researching how the number of visitors to the zoo affected the animals. It was important to me that tigers and lions in captivity could feel as comfortable as possible.

The lions I observed at the Kyiv Zoo were Hercules, Liliia, Khrystyna and Daryna, and the tigers were Rena, Maliuk and Amba. I came two to three times a week and observed from 3:00 pm to 4:00 pm. It was crucial to stick to the schedule because animals behave differently throughout the day. If I had observed them at different times, it could have affected the results.

The weather, of course, also affects the activity of tigers and lions. They hide when it rains or when it’s too hot. So I selected observations when the weather was approximately the same. These were sunny days in May and June.

I had an ordinary notebook in my hands. Every 5 minutes, I stood near the enclosure and recorded what the tiger or lion was doing. The enclosures at the Kyiv Zoo are arranged in a circle, so I had to run very quickly from one animal to another. It was difficult at first, but then I got used to it. For example, at 3:00 pm I observed lions, at 3:01 pm — a tiger, at 3:02 pm — another tiger, at 3:03 pm — one more, and then lions again. Towards the end of the research, the tigers started to recognise me.

At first, I wrote down what the specific animal was doing because I didn’t know their behavioural patterns. Then I summarised the records and divided the behaviour into such patterns: inactive — when the animal sleeps or lies down; comfort behaviour — for example, a tiger licking its fur; interaction — a tiger looks into the visitor’s eyes, shows interest, may meow; feeding; movement; exploratory behaviour — can sniff something, touch it with a paw; marking — the animal leaves its scents in various places of the enclosure; social — tigers and lions can vocalize or interact with each other in another way.

When there were no people around, the animals spent time inside the enclosures — in the part of the structure invisible to visitors. They also hid when there were too many people. According to my observations, they felt most comfortable on weekdays, when the number of visitors was average. Then lions and tigers showed the most comfortable and exploratory behaviour.

Artistically helping a dog shelter

Tetiana is studying architecture at the Sumy College of Civil Engineering and Architecture.

In 2022, she joined the Agents of Change civic engagement school. This is one of the areas of work of the Junior Academy of Sciences. Here, teenagers who implement their own projects to make the country and society better are called agents of change. At this school, Tetiana created the Paws in Palms project — she exhibited and sold her paintings to help a dog shelter.

When I applied to the Agents of Change School, I already knew that my project would definitely be related to animals. A year before, I had got a dog — a Shar Pei named Bucks. During the year, he got sick a lot. And when the war began, I thought about the following: we help him because he has us. But some animals have no one. I really wanted to help them.

So I organised a charity exhibition at the branch of the city library. I just needed help finding contacts and then hanging the paintings. And everything else was done by myself.

Most of the paintings at the exhibition were mine, but some were provided by friends. There were still lifes, landscapes and animals. I love working with oil paints the most, so the paintings were painted in oil.

We sold 8 works at the exhibition. The most expensive one was a painting by my friend Mariia Kadurina called ‘Venice during the holiday.’ It’s a bright, large, very positive painting.

Among the sold works was mine, with birches — my mom’s favourite painting. Of course, it was hard to give it away. But when I arrived at the shelter, I realised I was ready to give away all my paintings for this. It was incredible! Firstly, the understanding that I was helping. And secondly, these paintings would be kept somewhere on the balcony, but this way they brought joy to people.

At that time, I helped the True Friend public organisation shelter. It’s a small shelter for dogs. With the money collected from the paintings, my mom and I bought cereals, bowls, leashes, collars — various items at the request of the staff.

Honestly, before I got a dog, I hadn’t been interested in stray animals at all. While I was working on the project, I visited the shelter for the first time.

The dogs there are very friendly! They run around both in their enclosures and outside. Several dogs greeted us right away. They were so cheerful — jumping, playing, everything was interesting to them. It was cool.

And it was sad too… The girls who work there told us where these dogs had come from. I even cried because it touched me deeply.

In the future, I want to design a shelter and a clinic for animals. I hope I can bring this idea to life as soon as possible.”

It’s heartening that young Ukrainian scientists and activists are concerned about the fate of animals and the environment. 

Photos: Kyiv Zoo, Parks Australia (Commonwealth of Australia), Mongabay, All That’s Interesting

If you meet them “on a volunteer assignment” and want to say hello, they probably won’t shake your hand. Not because they’re unfriendly — quite the opposite, their hands are usually full with firewood, boards, tools or leashes for walking dogs. And their faces show both tiredness and satisfaction. It’s a mix of feelings after work that fills them up.

My conversation partners are from the UAnimals volunteer community. Here’s how it works: people from any city or village in Ukraine register in a Telegram bot that offers various tasks in the field of animal protection. Volunteers choose which of them they are interested in and agree to participate. You can distribute animal food to those in need, help in shelters, clean up parks or plant seedlings. Curator Anastasiia Kovalchuk helps with the details. Currently, there are over 1500 volunteers in the community, spread across all regions of Ukraine.

An actress? A designer? A mechanic? A top manager? Even the prime minister or the first lady! Anyone who shares UAnimals’ values of humane treatment of animals can join the community. I talked to volunteers from four regions. Let’s get to know:

• Liza from Zaporizhzhia, working in advertising and marketing;
• Nataliia from Mykolaiv, branch manager of an energy company;
• Vika from Bohodukhiv in Kharkiv region, a secretary in a medical institution;
• Mariia from Kyiv, a stylist and makeup artist;
• Anzhelika from Kyiv, a photo editor;
• Ivan from Kyiv, a top manager in a technical company;
• Anhelina from Mykolaiv and Kyiv, studying journalism and acting in theatre.

“We asked for something to do ourselves”: about the tasks in the UAnimals volunteer community

Vika with her friend Yuliia, a veterinarian

Vika: I travelled with humanitarian aid across the Kharkiv region — distributing food for cats and dogs. I was in Zolochiv, Chornohlazivka and then in my town, Bohodukhiv. In Zolochiv, a local volunteer Nastia Nechaieva helped me organise everything. We had 200 kilograms of food. At first, I thought I would have to spend the whole day walking around and offering it to people in their yards. But when Nastia called people from the market, and when we saw this crowd, we were shocked. People with many animals approached — seven dogs and nine cats each. It took us 20 minutes to distribute all of this!

Liza with her friend volunteering

Liza: I also distributed food several times. Back then, it was relatively calm towards Komyshuvakha, so I drove there by car. I visited villages such as Shchaslyve, Kushchove, Novoivanivka, Yasna Poliana, Hryhorivka and Zhovtenke. They sent me 100 kilograms of food per trip. My friend Daria and I distributed it all, weighing and packing it ourselves, one kilo per dog or cat. And we went together, as it was more convenient: one of us would pick up the food, while the other one would talk to the locals.

On our first trip, we were worried, especially when passing through checkpoints: we had to explain in detail why and where we were going, and all our answers were recorded. Then we got used to it a bit. The last two trips were to Hryhorivka and Zhovtenke, where there are difficulties with food, and people find it hard to go to the city. We were driving down the streets, if we saw a person, we called out and asked. Every family that has stayed there has many animals: from three dogs and sometimes to ten cats. People take care of the animals of their neighbours, who have left, and also pick up and feed the stray ones. Moreover, many animals were brought there from Orikhiv. So the food was gone very quickly.

Nataliia and her dog Dana

Nataliia: Well, what can I say: I handed out food under the rockets and drove off! I started driving in the summer and still regularly go to the frontline villages: Prybuzke, Lyman, Dmytrivka. I went to Ochakiv and also to the village of Kutsurub: there is a constant artillery shelling there, as the russians are just 5 kilometres away, on the Kinburn Spit. They even reach there with tanks.

When I went for the first time, I just handed out food to people on the streets. But then I got to know a military volunteer. It was she who already showed me where the pensioners lived, and we brought food directly to their homes.

Those villages that were right on the front line are destroyed — every house is shattered. During the fights, there was nobody there, and now people are returning, rebuilding whatever they can… It’s emotionally tough to see the ruins and hear tragic stories, but if not us, then who?

Ivan is a top manager on weekdays and a volunteer on weekends

Ivan: We take on every task. With Mariia, Anhelina and Anzhelika, we often meet for clean-ups, repairs or walking dogs in shelters. On our last trip, we visited Rifugio shelter. They gave us a tour and told us how the animals lived and how they were fed. It was more of a relaxed visit to feed the animals and pet them. But we asked for something to do ourselves because we’re volunteers. So we moved some firewood a little, dragged some boards, fed goats and horses — everyone brought some treats.

Personally, it’s not so important for me what exactly to do in the shelter, the main thing is that we’re getting involved in the process. Once, I went to the shelter to help with cleaning. I was 15 minutes late, and everyone was already busy cleaning, so they just let me walk the dogs. And this is very important work! When there are 300 dogs in the shelter and they are walked only once every three days, they really need it. I’m up for any task: feeding, pouring water for stray animals. In our community, we don’t pick and choose: “I’ll do this, I won’t do that.”

Liza: There are many directions in animal protection. You can financially support shelters. You can walk animals in shelters. In Zaporizhzhia, there’s a vet clinic that temporarily houses stray animals. So, for example, you can go there and walk the dogs. An important direction is to teach children how to communicate with animals, to explain that they are also living beings who feel. And the easiest way is to take a bag of food and feed stray animals. Anyone can do that.

“Filling up when giving love”: why volunteer?

Mariia: It motivates and uplifts the mood, especially when you manage to do something at the shelter. Usually, there’s a pleasant atmosphere, and interesting people gather there. It’s more about satisfaction.

Anhelina: Satisfaction from being needed.

Anzhelika: I even selfishly enjoy the fact that on weekends, you can go to the shelter — actually to nature, where there’s some physical work. I get a kick out of it. I especially love walking dogs because I can’t have my own one yet.

Ivan: For me, it’s also a kind of relaxation. I had a vacation a week ago. I spent three days of it in shelters. In Zoopatrul, Patron and Rifugio. I look at my photos — and after volunteering, my eyes always shine. No matter how hard it may seem, it always gives energy.

Ivan at Rifugio

Anhelina: When you go on a volunteer assignment, you have a goal. When you achieve it, you come back home like, “Wow…”. You fill up. You fill up when you touch happy animals, when you help animals that have suffered from war or people, and when you give love. And it doesn’t matter whether you give this love to people or animals.

Once I took photos of Ryzhyk at the shelter. He’s probably the most photogenic cat in the world. He was really like a supermodel: lifting his paws, turning his face to the camera, making different expressions… I posted everything on Instagram, and after a while, I saw that someone liked his photos, and now he has a home. It’s at moments like these that you understand what it’s all for.

“Guys, be quiet, you’ll wake up the bat”: most memorable moments

Vika: My husband and I rescued animals from Kharkiv when there was heavy shelling. Sometimes from Oleksiivka, sometimes from Saltivka… We had guinea pigs and parrots. And when people were ready to take in the animals, we took them to Krasnyi Kut, Merefa, even to Krasnohrad… I was ready to go anywhere so that the animals could have a family. When I remember all this, tears come to my eyes.

I was surprised by the fact that people were ready to take in animals. It never happened that puppies stayed with us for more than two months. In 2022, since the start of the full-scale war, about 300 animals were given away.

Mariia: I have a vivid memory from my childhood: when I was around 13 years old, I pulled puppies out of a trash bin. My mom and I heard something whimpering, so we went to see. It turned out blind puppies were lying in that bin, and they weren’t easy to reach. So I had to climb in there. I’m still proud that I wasn’t afraid. We took them home, raised them, and our neighbour gave them away later.

Anzhelika: When I was little, my mom and I found a pigeon with a wounded wing and nursed it back to health. When we saw that it wanted to be free, we took it back to where we found it. And it flew away. I cried for three days because I got so attached to it.

Ivan: I remember my birthday a few years ago. It was December 28th. I go out onto the balcony, and I hear something like crackling. I lift the blanket — and there’s a bat. They were supposed to be asleep already. It somehow got onto the balcony, fell onto the blanket and woke up. I called the organisation that dealt with bats, and they told me: take it in a box, cover it with a net, put it in the fridge — and it will fall asleep there. So I did. The window washers came to clean my windows, they were banging. I told them, “Guys, be quiet, you’ll wake up the bat.” And these big guys, “Show us!” And there it was, sleeping in the box with only its paw sticking out. So the bat lived in my fridge until spring.

Anhelina: I remember Sara, a yard dog who lives at Patron. I used to walk her. Sara has no front legs, but she tries to walk. She’s a dog with such strong willpower, with a thirst for life. She trusts people, makes contact and keeps on living. Sara gives me strength, motivation and inspiration.

Inhabitant of the fridge

Sereda, Piatnytsia, Marharyn, and others: who live with volunteers at home

Liza: Right now, I have a cat in foster care. And there’s Luna, a dog. Four years ago, I found 11 puppies near an abandoned house. My friends and I treated and sterilized them. I kept Luna for myself.

Nataliia: Cats Barsik, Snizhok, Niusha, Tolstyi, Sonia. I also have a dog. Someone found her in a dumpster and was trying to find her a home. The puppy was scared and wouldn’t come to anyone. It turned out she had been bitten by a dog. In the clinic, they said, another day or two, and this puppy would have died. So now, I have a dog Dana, and they are friends with the cat Tolstyi.

Vika: In the Kharkiv group, there was a video of five puppies found in the central market. There was a little black one among them. I looked at him and thought: that’s it, he’s mine. Now he’s my dog Lumi. People don’t even believe he’s not purebred. He grew up so beautiful, it’s like a bonus for my volunteering.

I also have Zhulia, who gave birth to 10 puppies: the little ones were given away, and I took the dog. And moreover, two cats — Markusha and Bonia, both of them were found.

Zhulia is gentle, but very timid. She only bonded with me. And Lumi is very sociable, full of energy and emotions. He’s like a copy of me!

I rescued Bonia from the dumpster. And Markusha, whom my child found in a box near the pond — he’s just the cat of my dreams. Black mask, black ears, and beige himself. No one believes he’s a rescue.

Anzhelika: I have three cats: Sereda, Piatnytsia and Marharyn. The former ones are female and male cats from the same shelter with a year’s difference. The female cat wasn’t very sociable. When she got used to us, we went back to the shelter and got her. And we took the latter male cat last year. Piatnytsia [ed.: ‘Friday’ in Ukrainian] and Sereda [ed.: ‘Wednesday’ in Ukrainian] are named after the days we got them from the shelter. And Marharyn [ed.: from ‘Margarine’] is a boy, we associated him with something soft and chubby.

Ivan: I have one cat, Filia. She’s purebred — and she stands out. And with such a character, that one is enough for me!

“You should help people instead”: about other people’s attitude to animal volunteering

Ivan: I’m often asked: why do you do this, spend time and resources? Not everyone understands how instead of lying down on Saturday, you can get up and go to work.

Anzhelika: My friends support me in volunteering: I collected things for insulating enclosures, and my friends practically collected everything I needed.

Liza: People used to say, “Oh, you should help people instead.” Those who say that don’t help people either. It’s just idle talk. 

Nevertheless, people are mostly inspired when they see someone caring. Once I found kittens, posted them on Instagram, and my friends took them. Although they used to say “no animals.”

Nataliia: My husband supports me in animal volunteering, sometimes he went with me to distribute food. Of course, he wasn’t very happy that I kept bringing cats home one after another, but he got used to it. My daughter is an adult. When I had to feed the little kittens, we did it as a family: my daughter came, and my mother came too. It was like with little children. My family is with me in this, I’m not alone.

Who said ‘no animals’? The feathered patrol flies out to convince: no rescued animals are ever enough! That’s why UAnimals always have rescue projects — please support them.

Ivan: When new people come to shelters, it’s a responsibility. If you come, it’s important to know how to handle animals or at least listen to those around you. During dog walks, people sometimes go just wherever they want. When they meet other dogs, they start fighting. Or the dog runs away, and they don’t know what to do. Volunteering is cool, but you have to have common sense and responsibility. Of course, I invite everyone and try to get them involved, but it’s not just for fun or karma points. Once you come to a shelter, you have to be responsible for your actions.

“One post — and five people have already done something”: why talk about volunteering

Ivan: I invited a friend to the shelter in Makariv, and she asked me to make a post about it. She said: the more you show people how they can help, the more people might start doing it. You might not even know about it, but someone might think about it, someone might feed, someone might donate… I made this post just for her. And afterwards, three of my friends asked to join my next volunteering session, and two asked for the details on where to donate. One post — and five people have already done something. And those are just the ones I know. I used to think that good deeds, as they say, are done in silence. But now I’ve changed my mind: you need to tell, post and involve other people.

Anhelina: That’s how it was for me with Patron. I went there to help clean up. And I was so inspired by this shelter that I launched my collection for them. I raised funds and bought what was needed at that moment: medicines, cleaning supplies… When I came there, the owner took photos of me with those bags and posted it. She believed it was worth it. Please, show that you are volunteering. In this way, you inspire other people.

Mariia: None of my friends were involved in animal volunteering. But when I started posting stories from shelters, my friends started writing, “Oh, cool, let’s go together.” Not everyone imagines what needs to be done, and how it goes. Maybe they couldn’t dare because they didn’t know what exactly would happen there. And if a familiar person has already done it, it’s easier. Many of my friends wanted to join. When you volunteer, it’s important to talk about it.

Kabachok used to live in Donetsk region. Where exactly is classified as the militarymen found him on a mission. He’s a Vietnamese pot-bellied pig by breed, but more like a dog in his behavior. Out in the field and on the road, he used to live in an empty ammo box. Now, he has a much more sizable home. On his way to the shelter, Kabachok was accompanied by eight soldiers and two journalists.

“He’s completely tame. Eats everything, but we’re watching his diet so he doesn’t gain too much weight. Kabachok should be ‘sportivo’,” says Andrea Cisternino, owner of the Rifugio shelter in Lisovychi.

This svelte Italian in rubber boots used to be a fashion photographer. Now, he has chosen a different mission — taking care of hundreds of animals in northern Kyiv region.

For nearly a decade, Rifugio has been a place for homeless and poorly-treated animals to find a new home. It recently had many new arrivals from Kherson oblast, hotspot towns and villages, and also — pets of soldiers who had to leave for the front lines. Right now, the shelter is housing approximately 500 animals. Nobody knows the exact amount — once the number broke 400, the workers simply lost track. 

NOSE TO THE GRINDSTONE

“At six in the morning I light the wood stove by the kittens and puppies,” tells Natalia from Liubymivka, “while another coworker heats up the one in the kitchen and starts making porridge. Then, I clean up and go help her out. We give the porridge to the dogs, then feed the pigs and clean their enclosures. And the other person goes to wash the dishes, while I go wash the eyes of our kittens. I do whatever other procedures the animals need. After that, we go to clean the dogs’ enclosures. Switch out their water and all that.”

Work continues deep into the evening.

Natalia and her colleague take care of pigs, cats, and dogs. Three other men work with horses, goats, and sheep. The owner also often takes up the pitchfork, but he also has other duties, such as looking for funds to support the shelter. Andrea says, “My main mission is to make sure all of these animals are well-fed.”

FROM ITALY TO LISOVYCHI

Next to the enclosures at the edge of the forest, Andrea also built a photo studio. There’s not much to show right now: the corkboard only has two pictures pinned to it. One of them depicts the dogs Chupi and Bruno, the other — the supermodel Helena Christensen. Both photos were taken by Andrea. In Italy, he took pictures of top models and sportscars. Right here is where he keeps the old and weathered photographer passes for “Formula-1” and various runways.

In 2009, fashion photographer Andrea married Vlada, a Ukrainian, and moved to live with her. By that time he was already involved with animal rights activism, and he was shocked by the scale of dog hunting in Ukraine.

Back then, Kyiv was preparing for UEFA Euro 2012. In order to “clean up the streets”, homeless animals were simply put to death. Andrea says that politicians turned a blind eye to dog hunters — what’s more, the government at the time was directly complicit in animal extermination.

In Kyiv, Andrea got in touch with volunteers who took care of homeless animals. “There was one time I got a call from a volunteer who was taking care of 35 dogs. That day, 20 of them had been brutally killed. And this is just one of dozens of cases that I have documented. Every day, I brought more evidence to Ukrainian politicians, and each time they shrugged and said they knew nothing about it,” says Andrea.

After that, he began publicly protesting animal cruelty in Ukraine. In response, dog hunters published Andrea’s private information on their websites. Since then, the Italian Embassy has assigned him a personal bodyguard.

Andrea and his wife Vlada set one question for themselves: what constructive steps can be taken to rescue homeless dogs? That was when the couple decided to create a shelter — but founding a shelter required massive funding.

What happened next was something straight out of a movie.

On Christmas Eve in Milan, Andrea met a woman who read one of his interviews and asked to meet with him.

“We had coffee together and talked for an hour and a half. Then she asked me if I had any pressing concerns. I said that we had many, but the most important was purchasing land so we wouldn’t get kicked out. She immediately wrote out a check for the required sum. It was a Christmas miracle.”

Rifugio began construction in 2014. At first, Andrea started taking in homeless dogs.

In the very first year, the shelter was struck by a fire. 71 animals died that day. Andrea shows a tattoo on his arm. “Always in my heart.” It’s dedicated to the dogs who passed that day.

The police found no signs of arson, and so no case was opened. But eventually, the culprits came forward of their own accord with an apology. They said they didn’t know what Andrea was doing and why. This apology confirmed Andrea’s suspicion that arson had indeed occurred, but his lawyer convinced him not to sue.

Andrea did not give up because of the tragedy. On the contrary, Rifugio now houses five times as many animals as back in the day and not just dogs. The shelter gets by mainly thanks to Italian sponsors. The shelter also established connections with Ukrainian volunteers. The townspeople, Andrea says, help out as well.

“The locals nowadays see our shelter very differently, all thanks to years of hard work. With our Italian friends, we organized free sterilization days, and people would bring their pets to us. Some of the townsfolk work here, too. If all I used to see before in Ukraine were dog hunters, then now we get daily phone calls asking for help, or people bringing in homeless animals on their own,” Andrea tells us.

And to think that very recently, the shelter had a very real chance of disappearing for good.

40 DAYS OF OCCUPATION

“I was cleaning the stables when I heard two russian fighter jets overhead. One of them started descending. I thought it was going to shoot, and that’d be the end of our shelter. The jet got so low to the ground I could see the pilot,” Andrea says as he describes the spring of 2022.

Later in the afternoon of February 24th, the shelter was abuzz with fighter jets and helicopters. Aircraft battles took place right above the village. Andrea shows us an audio recording of the explosions, “Day and night it was like this, day and night.”

“One of the worst moments happened when we heard that russians were running out of food,” says Andrea. The shelter ran out of food too, on occasion, whether for humans or animals. Even though the staff were making stockpiles a month before the invasion, by the middle of March they had nearly run out.

Andrea lost 12 kilograms and even broke two ribs.

“I was cleaning the stables, slipped, and broke two ribs. Naturally, I couldn’t just go to the russian or chechen soldiers to get patched up. I grit my teeth and waited for Ukrainian soldiers to liberate our territory.”

Natalia lost weight too: she gave part of her rations to the dogs she was taking care of. The shelter staff knew that aid for animals was coming through to Kyiv, but between Lisovychi and the nearest blockpost lay thirty kilometers — a distance nobody could risk braving at the time.

Andrea received offers to evacuate on more than one occasion. Even during the occupation, the Italian embassy insisted he leave the country, even going as far as to develop a plan and receive approval from the military…

“I asked, ‘Will you take everyone — my employees and animals, too?’ They said no, just me. So I stayed with my animals,” tells Andrea.

In total, Andrea spent 40 days in occupation, though he only managed to count that after the fact.

On April 2nd, he says, at a very unusually quiet time he heard a car horn. Strangers were at the shelter. Did the russians climb the fence? One of them shouted in Italian, “Andrea, hello, it’s me!”

“Russian soldiers speaking Italian? Impossibile!” recounts Andrea.

In reality, standing by the gates were the Italian journalist Claudio, translator Tetiana, and a Ukrainian volunteer. Waiting by the fence was a car with supplies — and a Ukrainian flag flying on the roof.

“I thought I was dreaming. Only when Claudio hugged me and I felt the pain, I remembered my broken ribs and understood — this is real.”

MEET THE VIPS

The first large animal at the shelter was a cow by the name of Margo. Now, she also has company in Mikaela. And right next door are two more esteemed signoras.

“Frieda, Frieda, Kapla!” Andrea calls out. Finally, two considerably-sized pigs waddle out of the barn, squinting from the sun. “Oh, buongiorno!”

Above all else, these refined dames love getting mud baths and scratches. The pigs can tell people apart and even respond to pet names.

Aside from domestic pigs, there are also two Vietnamese ones: the already familiar Kabachok and Harry. Though he is Kabachok’s closest relative, their personalities couldn’t be more different. Harry can only be found in the barn, sleeping in the hay. He’s chewing in his sleep, showing off his sizable tusks. Sleeping is his favorite hobby.

“Harry befriended a duck around here,” says Andrea. “Other ducks were bullying her, so she found safety in his company. They sleep and eat together.”

Marcio, Ser, Mina, Mami, Annushka, Roza, and Lola are the sheep community at the shelter. They arrived here from large farms where animals are raised for meat. That’s also how the shelter found their chickens, geese, and ducks.

The goats peek out from the barn. It almost looks like they want to give an interview of their own — and boy, do they have stories to tell. Take Berbek, for example this billy was wandering on his lonesome by the belorussian border when the locals found him and suggested Andrea take him in.

Mary the pony was on her way to a slaughterhouse when Andrea picked her up. Later it was found that Mary was pregnant when she got rescued: she gave birth to Op, and he is no pony at all. The stallion lives in the same enclosure as his mom and is nearly thrice as big as she is.

The racehorse Voron would have similarly ended his career at the slaughterhouse were it not for the shelter’s staff. Thelma and Louise came under Andrea’s care from the mounted police. Another mare by the name of Tatanka used to live in the same pasture with them — she died in 2023 because of a russian rocket that fell next to the shelter. Tatanka’s heart stopped then and there.

“And this one here is from Lisovychi,” Andrea shows us the gray Baron. “He spent his whole life as a workhorse. A woman from the village brought him in because two of her sons enlisted in the army, and she couldn’t take care of him on her own. Careful, he bites! Though… seems like he’s in a good mood today.”

Cats’ apartments

The cats have a separate space from the other animals. Here we can find former strays: some were brought in by Andrea, others by volunteers. As soon as I step in through the door, they cling to me and start purring. Some are trying to climb into my lap, some — onto my shoulders, and all of them are sniffing me curiously all over. You can pick them up by the armfuls, that’s how many there are. 

The feline enclosure is comfortable and fully furnished. People from Lisovychi donated a sofa for the cats specifically. Andrea points to the WC sign: “Our cats can read.”

Outside, Natalia is hard at work. “Cats were trying to drink from the mop bucket, I took it outside,” Andrea says in Italian. “Ah, I had to run to break up the dogs and forgot all about it,” Natalia replies in Ukrainian. “I understand his Italian,” she says. “How? Sometimes through a translator. And then, after a while, you learn to understand each other bit by bit.”

She picks up a stick off the ground and leads me to a completely different world — the world of dogs.