Perhaps it was fate. After all, fate has a mysterious way of bringing the right souls together, and maybe, just maybe, Hope was always meant to find her way home to me.

Animal welfare has always been something incredibly close to my heart. For many years, I have supported charities and rescue organisations both in the UK and overseas, dedicated to saving dogs and cats from abandonment, puppy farms, kill shelters and, of course, the barbaric dog and cat meat trade.

I’ve encountered countless heartbreaking stories over the years, but nothing quite prepared me for the little face that appeared on my Facebook feed on 12th July 2025.

Until that moment, I had never even heard of NoToDogMeat. Perhaps it was simply the mysterious workings of a social media algorithm, but whatever brought that post into my life, the 12th of July 2025 would become a day that changed my life for the better.

There she was. A tiny, blind white poodle with the most beautiful little face, photographed beside Mr Zhao, and a story that would stay with me long after I put my phone down.

Hope’s early life was one of exploitation rather than love. Raised on a breeding farm and later used in a dog grooming facility, she was denied the kindness and security every animal deserves. Like so many innocent dogs, her vocal cords were cruelly cut, taking away her ability to bark and express herself. When she was no longer considered useful, she was discarded and sent to the dog meat market, her life reduced to nothing more than a commodity. A little girl who had already endured so much yet had never known the simple comfort of being someone’s beloved companion.

Many fur babies have brought me to tears, but this little girl was different. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her beautiful little face, the sadness in her eyes and the bewilderment of a world she couldn’t see. I kept returning to her photograph, and each time, the tears came again.

I couldn’t quite explain why, but something about her had touched me in a way I had never experienced before.

For the first time, I felt I had to do something. I couldn’t simply read her story, shed a tear and carry on with my day.

Of course, there’s a certain irony in knowing what you want to do and finding the courage to actually do it.

I was apprehensive and nervous about what lay ahead, yet equally compelled to act. The thought of adopting a dog from China felt daunting, but the thought of doing nothing was becoming even harder to bear.

I found myself having those internal conversations, going back and forth between “Yes, I need to do this,” and “What am I doing? Is this completely crazy?”

I had previously helped my dad adopt a little dog from Romania, but adopting from China was unfamiliar territory. I didn’t know what the process involved, how everything would work or what challenges we might face along the way.

And as much as my heart was telling me to bring this little girl home, I knew it couldn’t be a decision made on emotion alone.

I had to think seriously about what adopting her would mean for all of us. This wasn’t simply about giving her a home. It was about giving her a forever home, with all the love, patience, understanding and commitment that came with it.

We already had a much-loved fur baby who had always been the centre of our world, and his happiness mattered just as much. Bringing another dog into our family would undoubtedly change things for him too.

But knowing his wonderfully crazy, affectionate nature, I had every confidence he would welcome her with open paws.

Despite all my questions, worries and moments of doubt, I kept coming back to that little face.

Perhaps my mind was still working through the practicalities, but my heart had already made its decision.

A little while later, I finally sent an email to NoToDogMeat.

I knew this little girl needed more than simply a roof over her head. She needed a family to call her own, people she could trust, a place where she would feel safe, secure and unconditionally loved.

And I knew, with all my heart, that we could give her that.

At the time, this beautiful little girl was being sponsored by the wonderful Patrice Torillo, who had given her the name Damita in loving memory of one of her beloved fur babies.

But before I had even learned her name, I had already started thinking about what I might call her.

China.

To me, it represented something beautiful. She was so tiny, white and delicate, just like fine porcelain.

Although my friends and family understood the sentiment behind the name, I soon realised that their first association with China was the dog meat trade and the unimaginable cruelty she had endured.

And that wasn’t what I wanted people to think of when they heard her name.

Her past was heartbreaking, but I was determined that it would not define her future. I didn’t want her to be known simply as a victim of cruelty. I wanted people to see the beautiful little soul she was, the love she had to give and the life she was finally going to experience.

Cruelty had already taken enough from my little girl. I wasn’t going to allow it to define the rest of her life.

And then, almost as though it had been there waiting for me all along, I realised I had already given her the perfect name.

From the very first moment I saw her photograph, there was one word I had kept coming back to. I had spoken it aloud, written it in messages and used it to describe what I saw in those beautiful little eyes.

Hope.

Despite the sadness and bewilderment, there was something in her expression that I couldn’t quite explain. A little glimmer of hope, perhaps, and the possibility of a future so different from the life she had known.

It was what I had seen in her when I first looked at that photograph, and it was everything I wanted her future to hold.

And suddenly, it all made sense.

Her name was Hope.

And so, the process of adopting Hope began.

I completed an application form, followed by a lengthy and informative telephone conversation where we discussed Hope’s individual needs, her circumstances and whether I could offer her the right home.

After all, it was just as important that I was right for Hope as it was that Hope was right for me. This was a lifelong commitment, and her happiness and well-being had to come first.

Next came a virtual home visit, followed by regular conversations and updates as everything gradually began falling into place.

The anticipation was wonderful. I had butterflies, a mixture of excitement and nervousness, and there was so much to prepare before welcoming this tiny little girl into our family.

With every conversation and update, it all began to feel a little more real.

I followed every stage of Hope’s journey through the updates shared by NoToDogMeat, and when the time finally came for her to travel, I found myself glued to the flight tracker.

I stayed awake until 3am, anxiously following her journey home.

At one point, the anticipation was almost unbearable when her flight was delayed. I kept refreshing the tracker, desperately waiting for that one little word to appear: *airborne*.

I couldn’t wait to meet her, but more than anything, I just wanted to know she was safely on her way.

Despite my rather late night, I was up early the following morning, eagerly awaiting confirmation from the NoToDogMeat team that Hope had landed safely.

After all the waiting, the worrying and the excitement, my little girl was finally getting closer to home.

I’ll never forget the moment we finally met. 19^th October 2025 is Hope’s official ‘Gotcha day!’ I could have combusted from the sheer excitement and anticipation alone!

Marion, from the NoToDogMeat team, carefully handed me Hope’s carrier. I gently opened it and placed it on the floor, wanting to give her a few moments to take in her new surroundings.

I didn’t know quite what to expect, and I could only imagine how overwhelming everything must have been for such a tiny little girl. New voices, unfamiliar smells and an entirely different environment from the one she had known.

For Hope, who couldn’t see the world around her, everything would have to be understood through her other senses.

And as I watched her taking in this unfamiliar world, I found myself hoping for one thing above all else.

That the very first thing she would sense about her new home was safety.

“When I picked her up out of the carrier and held her for the very first time, my heart almost burst; that beautiful little girl who cannot see appeared to be looking deeply into my eyes. I gently told her how beautiful she was and that she was safe and already loved. I can’t remember if it was Marion or my son’s girlfriend who took the photo, but they captured our first moments together when Hope seemed to be looking and listening intently. I find it difficult to put into words – but it felt as if this is how it should be.”

And from those very first moments together, we began getting to know the little girl behind the photograph that had captured my heart.

Hope is the gentlest, sweetest little soul, carefully tiptoeing her way around as she navigates the world without her sight. But don’t let her delicate appearance fool you, because beneath that beautiful little face is quite the character!

She’s a bit of a princess when it comes to food. Commercial wet dog food simply isn’t to Her Majesty’s liking, although she’s rather partial to some freshly cooked chicken or beef. Finding treats she enjoys has been another adventure entirely. After eight months of trial and error, we’ve finally discovered that Pooch & Mutt Duck and Rosemary treats meet her very particular standards.

And then all the wonderful little quirks make Hope, well, Hope.

While other dogs might race around the house with a case of the post-bath zoomies, Hope prefers a little wiggle, a shake and a few playful bows.

She even has what I affectionately call her *poo dance*. Yes, you read that correctly! Sometimes, just before doing her business, she performs a little dance. It’s believed that Hope spent much of her earlier life confined to a small cage, and I often wonder whether this funny little ritual is her way of enjoying the freedom she now has to move around and go wherever she pleases.

For such a tiny, dainty little girl who has no voice, she also possesses the loudest, most unladylike burp imaginable!

But perhaps my favourite of all her little habits is the way she sneezes. It’s never just a sneeze with Hope. It’s a full-body performance! First, she raises her little head, followed by an exaggerated bow as the sneeze wiggles its way through her entire body, finishing with a delightful little wag of her tail. It is quite possibly the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

And if Hope had her way, she’d spend every waking moment snuggled up on my lap. For such a tiny little girl, she’s remarkably determined when she wants to be picked up. Her approach is anything but subtle; she’ll burrow into my leg like a little mole, making her intentions clear until I inevitably give in. Once she’s settled, she nestles into me, getting as close as she possibly can.

Welcoming Hope into our lives was surprisingly easy. That’s not to say it will be the same for everyone, but I had prepared myself for most of the challenges we might face.

I knew Hope was blind, incredibly tiny, and that her vocal cords had been cut, meaning she couldn’t communicate through barks, cries or whimpers. Walks aren’t really possible, although she loves pottering around the garden at her own pace. Stairs and doorsteps are obstacles she cannot safely navigate, so we simply carry her when needed.

Toileting has been a little hit and miss. We’ve learnt to take her outside after naps and around mealtimes, although the occasional accident is inevitable. None of this was unexpected, and we’ve simply adapted to her needs.

Our biggest adventure, however, was finding the perfect sleeping arrangement!

I originally bought Hope a cosy kitten cave inside a puppy pen beside my bed. She loved it for two nights, then decided she didn’t. I tried leaving the top open with my hand dangling inside to reassure her. Another two nights of success!

Next came her travel carrier beside the bed, then on the bed. Each arrangement lasted, you guessed it, approximately two nights!

Eventually, I discovered that Hope much preferred sleeping on a human pillow with her own teddy fleece pillowcase. So, I bought a woven laundry basket with high sides, popped her favourite pillow inside and placed it beside my bed.

I thought we’d finally cracked it. Two nights later, Hope had other ideas!

Determined to make it work, I bought her a soft toy bunny with a heartbeat, affectionately named Tik-Tok after the sound it made.

And finally, success!

The batteries eventually ran out, but by then Hope was perfectly content without the heartbeat. She now sleeps soundly in her basket, snuggled into her pillow beside a silent Tik-Tok, occasionally treating us to her adorable little snores.

I don’t really see any of these things as challenges. They’re simply part of life with Hope. Sometimes it takes a little patience, creativity and trial and error to find what works.

It’s never been about expecting Hope to adapt to our world. It’s about understanding hers and finding ways to make her feel safe, comfortable and loved.

Adopting Hope has allowed me to truly understand something I have heard so many people speak about when opening their hearts and homes to a rescue animal.

Despite everything they have endured, despite the suffering, neglect and cruelty they may have experienced, they still desperately want to love and be loved.

Their willingness to trust again, particularly when it was human hands that caused them so much suffering in the first place, is almost incomprehensible to me.

I see that trust in the little things Hope does every day. The way she seeks me out for cuddles, settles beside me and allows herself to feel safe in a world she cannot see.

There is something profoundly moving about an animal finding the courage to open their heart again, to place their trust in the very species that once caused them so much pain.

I often find myself looking at her sweet little face, into those beautiful white eyes, and wondering how anyone could ever be so cold, callous and cruel to such a defenceless little soul.

Had Julia not walked past that slaughterhouse early that morning, my beautiful little girl would not be here today. She would never have known the warmth of a loving home, the comfort of being held close or what it feels like to be truly loved and adored.

The thought of what could have been, of how close she came to never having the life she has today, brings me to tears.

And when I look at her now, safe, cherished and surrounded by love, I am reminded of just how much that one act of compassion changed her world.

And mine.

What NoToDogMeat does on the ground is beyond incredible. What their team experiences and witnesses firsthand, I can only imagine how horrifying it must be.

I find it difficult at times even to expose myself to the realities of what happens to these animals, as I can find it emotionally overwhelming.

And I think that speaks to the depth of my empathy and the enormous admiration I have for NoToDogMeat. To face the very things I sometimes struggle even to look at takes a level of compassion and strength I can only begin to imagine.

If I could offer one piece of advice to someone considering adopting a special needs dog, it would be not to let apprehension outweigh possibility.

Of course, it’s important to understand their individual needs and be realistic about your ability to meet them. But having additional needs doesn’t diminish an animal’s capacity to live a happy, fulfilling life, nor does it mean caring for them will necessarily be difficult.

What initially seems daunting can become second nature with patience, understanding and a willingness to adapt.

I don’t see Hope as a blind dog with limitations. I see a beautiful little girl with her own personality, preferences and wonderfully individual way of experiencing the world.

Sometimes it’s not about what an animal cannot do, but about recognising everything they can, given the right environment and opportunity.

Hope brings an immeasurable amount of joy into my life. I love and adore her, and I am constantly in awe of her resilience, her character and the wonderful little personality she has. I truly believe she is happy and content with us, and I certainly know how much she loves her Mumma. If I’m spending too long in the kitchen cooking, she’ll come looking for me, eventually positioning herself between my feet, perfectly content just to be close. It’s these little moments that remind me just how special the bond we share really is.