06/01/2026
LONG POST AHEAD ⚠️
have tried to write this post all morning.
But instead of giving you the scripted, polished, “safe” version, I want to be real and raw like I promised I always would be when I started this page.
Let’s start from yesterday…
Sundays at the sanctuary are usually spent with just my husband and myself. We work on things the volunteers don’t handle during the week, filling holes, fixing enclosures, spending extra time with the foxes. Yesterday was no different.
We played with them. Loved on them. Had eyes on every single one.
Per usual, we fed our raw diet by hand. Every fox takes their dinner directly from us. We pay attention to body language, eyes, ears, feet, movement, constantly looking for warning signs that something may be wrong or that someone may need medical attention.
Then we did our nightly feeding.
Told all of our loves goodnight.
A fairly normal Sunday evening.
Our volunteers come out every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for deep pen cleans. We have a good routine here. The foxes know and love our volunteers, and over time they’ve become family to us too. Everyone here plays a part in helping care for these animals.
This morning, I briefly spoke with Sharon before she headed out back. We talked about which foxes would rotate into the play yard today, who we wanted to keep an eye on, normal sanctuary things.
When Sharon walked back inside just a few minutes later, I knew immediately by the look on her face that something was wrong.
Teacup had passed away.
She lay in her eternal slumber as if she had simply eaten dinner, curled up in her house, and fallen asleep. She did not look like she suffered. She looked peaceful. And as devastating as this is, that gives me some comfort.
Teacup is the second fox we have lost in the last month. Our second loss ever.
And I mean it when I say I do not think my heart was built for this. Maybe not strong enough at all.
I was in such shock this morning that I could barely speak. I couldn’t process it. I went out and cleaned the fennec enclosures with tears filling my eyes, trying to force my heart to understand what my brain could not.
Exactly two hours later, I completely crumbled.
The weight of it all just crushed me.
The questions start flooding in:
What could I have done?
How could I have prevented this?
Was she hurting?
What did I miss?
You replay every last interaction over and over in your head, searching desperately for answers that may never come.
This is the side of rescue people rarely see.
And if you do not learn how to compartmentalize and cope, it will completely consume you.
The truth is that fur farm foxes are not bred for longevity, health, or quality of life. They are mass-produced for one purpose only: to survive from spring until winter, when they are killed for their fur.
Generations of irresponsible breeding, overcrowding, neglect, poor nutrition, and lack of medical care leave many of these animals with underlying health issues that can follow them for the rest of their lives.
By the time they arrive here, many have already endured irreversible damage.
We fight every single day to give them the life they should have had from the beginning:
safe enclosures, proper diets, enrichment, veterinary care, love, peace, and dignity.
But despite everything we do… they will not live forever.
Sometimes their bodies simply cannot overcome what they came from.
After I told our vet the news this morning, she sent me a long message that said:
“You will outlive every one of those foxes, and you have to find ways to cope with knowing you gave them comfort and love until the end.”
And she was right.
Teacup did not die on a cold wire cage floor.
She did not die terrified.
She did not die as a coat hanging in someone’s closet.
She died loved.
Safe.
Warm.
With a full belly and a family who adored her.
And while that gives us comfort, it does not make this hurt any less.
This loss is also a painful reminder of how important preventative veterinary care is for these foxes. Every fox at the sanctuary is currently due for annual wellness exams so we can stay ahead of hidden health issues and continue giving them the best chance possible. (We are scheduled for the first week in June)
If you would like to help us continue caring for these rescued fur farm foxes, donations toward annual exams and medical care would mean the world to us right now. It is not optional care, it is absolutely necessary.
📍 Venmo:
📍 Cash App: $Saltyfoxsanctuary111
📍 PayPal: [email protected]
Or donate directly through our website:
saltyfoxsanctuary.com
Please keep our sanctuary family in your thoughts tonight.
And check on your friends in rescue, whether they’ve experienced a recent loss or not. These animals become members of our families, and sometimes a kind word heals more hurt than I can explain.
Also send some kind words for her sponsor who loved her deeply and ALWAYS helped me care for her. This man never told me no any time I called him with an urgent need for Teacup. And I know his heart is hurting with this loss Steve Jennings 🤍
