Morning light falls across Julianne Locker’s backyard, catching the leaves, garden, and branches where birds call from the trees. Her yard is full of life — a rescued squirrel eventually leaves its cage, races up a tree, and disappears into the branches while Julianne stands below and watches it go.
For Julianne, caring for God’s creatures has always meant knowing when to draw them close and when to let them go. She has learned to be patient with frightened animals, waiting for trust to come in its own time.
Once, that patience meant leaving food each morning for a Great Dane abandoned along a highway and giving her the space to decide whether she was ready to come closer. Eventually, the dog wandered into an old shed. When Julianne returned before daylight the next morning, she found the dog waiting inside.
That dog, Babygirl, would become one of the most meaningful rescues of Julianne’s life.
Julianne was just 11 when she chased a frightened collie mix across a main road and through a graveyard after witnessing someone throw him from a car.
“I believe God instills a passion and a purpose in all of us at the beginning of our lives, and when we nurture it, it grows from there,” Julianne said.
Over the years, Julianne has opened her heart and her home to squirrels, owls, dogs, cats, raccoons, ducks, chickens, goats, a hummingbird, and horses. Each one arrives with a different story and a different set of needs, but Julianne sees a valuable life worth caring for in all of them.
“They’re alone, helpless, yet they give unconditional love,” she said. “They need someone to care. I can’t ignore the need.”
She has learned to understand animals through patience, research, prayer, her veterinarian’s guidance, and, perhaps most importantly, simply getting to know them. She watches their behavior and learns what they are trying to communicate, giving them time to trust her rather than expecting immediate trust.
The Great Dane, whom Julianne named Babygirl, taught her just how profound that bond could become.
For weeks, Julianne watched the abused and abandoned dog pace along a stretch of highway as though waiting for someone to return. She began leaving food for her on a dirt road leading into a field, far enough from traffic to keep her safe. Babygirl was clever, carrying away entire bowls of food if Julianne left enough for more than one meal.
Eventually, the dog took refuge in an old shed. Julianne placed a blanket, food, and water inside, then returned before daylight the following morning. Babygirl was there. Julianne quietly closed the door, returned home for her husband, and came back to rescue her.
The Great Dane was frail, diagnosed with a severe case of heartworms, and weighed only 78 pounds. Her veterinarian believed she might not have survived another week. With treatment, nourishment, and plenty of love, Babygirl eventually reached 130 pounds and became a beautiful, gentle presence in Julianne’s life.
“She was the most human-childlike dog I’ve ever had,” Julianne said. “Her spirit was calming and peaceful.”
At the time, Julianne was working a stressful job that had begun taking a serious toll on her well-being. As she poured herself into helping Babygirl heal, it became clear that Babygirl needed Julianne more than Julianne needed her job, so she resigned.
Her mother, who had encouraged her to leave for weeks, could only laugh at the turn of events. Julianne had not listened to her, but when a dog needed her, she finally did.
“Babygirl was an angel that brought love and peace to my life as much as I brought safety and love to hers,” Julianne said. “She saved me as much as I saved her.”
However, she understands loving an animal also means knowing when to let it go. When Buddy, a squirrel she rescued, was ready to return to the wild, Julianne resisted the temptation to keep him simply because she loved having him around. Instead, she placed his cage in the backyard with the door open and let him decide. After a few nights, Buddy chose the trees.
Compassion asks us to look beyond ourselves. That might be the greatest lesson Julianne has carried from a lifetime of rescue.
Animals, she said, often arrive frightened, angry, or defensive, but patience gives them room to lower their guard. People can be the same way. A difficult first impression may reveal little about the wounds someone carries beneath the surface.
“Past traumas in their lives can affect them in ways we don’t always understand,” she said. “Sometimes people need a little extra patience and grace shown to them as well.”
It is hard when animals pass away, and there have been plenty of tears along the way. Still, Julianne keeps opening her door because she cannot imagine doing otherwise.
She hopes others will begin to see abandoned and injured animals differently, too — not as inconveniences, but as lives deserving of care. GN
