Alice’s adoption story began when she volunteered for two weeks at Fundación Benjamín Mehnert in Spain. While she was there, she adopted not one but two hounds.
Here we chat to Alice about her journey.
How did you get involved with volunteering at FBM?
I’d always wanted to adopt a Spanish galgo and after the last of my Portuguese rescue dogs sadly passed away, I decided it was time to welcome a furry friend into my life again. I found Project Galgo online and reached out by email. I discussed with founder Helena the type of dog I was looking for: I live in Edinburgh, work part-time and live alone, so I felt it would be best to adopt an older, calmer hound who was stable enough to be left alone (in between dog-walker visits) while I worked, but had the energy to hike with me in the hills. I was looking for a smaller galgo who I could share my sofa with, but that was mobile enough to navigate the three flights of stairs from my flat to the back garden. I know what you may be thinking: that’s a lot of specifications for a rescue. However, I knew that if I was going to be able to successfully rehome a dog, it needed to be right for me – and me for them.
I enquired after a few of the dogs available for adoption, and while Helena could be sure of certain aspects of their temperament and behaviour, there are, of course, always going to be question marks. One of my biggest concerns was with a dog being able to cope when I was out of the house for work. I used to have two dogs previously and when I talked to my friend, she said, “For goodness sake Alice, you know you are going to adopt one dog, then a second down the line, so do yourself a favour and just rehome them both at once now – save yourself a lot of hassle!”. It made me chuckle – she was right. Helena, too, had mentioned the benefits of two dogs being able to keep each other company.
So that was decided: I was now looking to rehome not just one dog but two. I checked out Project Galgo’s partner charities in Spain online and as I had annual leave from work remaining, I decided it would be an incredible experience to volunteer at a dog shelter for two weeks, spend time with all the hounds and perhaps find two to return to Scotland with me. I asked Helena if it was possible, and she pointed me in the right direction.
I picked Fundación Benjamín Mehnert (FBM) as it is close to Seville Airport and has a farmhouse on site for volunteers to stay in for €15 a night. Alberto, FBM’s volunteer manager, was enthusiastic and I booked my flights for June. I spent the following two months counting down the days to my working holiday in the sun with six hundred galgos for company.
Describe a typical day volunteering at the shelter…
My days at FBM started at 7am. There can be up to 750 dogs in the shelter at the end of hunting season, so a lot of work is involved to ensure they are all happy chappies. I would make my way to the centre’s fifteen or so large paddocks, each of which contains five to ten galgos, and has a small indoor space with dog beds. I would fill up their water and kibble, clear the poo and, of course, give the dogs lots of love. They were always so excited to see me, barking and running up and down the fence in anticipation of attention. I’d check for any signs suggesting a dog needed veterinary care, distribute treats and throw balls for the playful pooches.
Next, I would head to the kennels to help manager Natalia herd the dogs into the outdoor enclosures for their daily exercise. This was my favourite part of the day as the hounds would excitedly gallop down the runway towards the secure fields, while all the other dogs barked frenziedly, knowing it would be their turn soon for freedom.
It was then time to clean out the kennels with power hoses and disinfectant, ready for the dogs to return in a few hours’ time to rest and snooze. In between all this is, of course, cuddle time. I cannot explain how affectionate the dogs are. There was never enough time to shower these sweet hounds with the love they so deserve. The gentle souls steal your heart.
We would break for lunch at midday when temperatures often nudged above 35 degrees Celsius. The dogs have water mists in their kennels to keep them cool in the heat of the day. After lunch, a quick poo-pick and water refill in the kennels would ensure they were ready for the evening. Free feeders allow the hounds 24-hour access to food. In the late afternoon I would take out some of the dogs on a walk around the compound or spend quality time with them in their kennels.
What did you find most challenging about working at the centre?
The hardest thing about volunteering at FBM was seeing frightened dogs cowering at the back of the kennels, realising that even just a human walking past invoked shock and fear in these traumatised animals. It broke my heart to contemplate the experiences they must have undergone. The staff at FBM are amazing at helping these dogs, spending time with them so they feel safe and get used to human contact, so they have a hope of being rehomed and a chance to enjoy a normal life.
Another hard thing was witnessing dog fights. FBM is so overwhelmed with intakes, and while everyone works hard to keep them safe and happy, dogs living together in kennels will naturally fight at some point. Sometimes these are growls and snaps to determine the pecking order. Other times, they are brutally vicious. I was filling up the water outside one afternoon when there was a sudden cacophony of barking and in a paddock quite far away, all the dogs had gathered and were jumping up at the fences.
I saw clouds of dust and heard yelps and snarls. I shouted for help and ran over, but I had to negotiate the gates of the adjoining paddocks to prevent any dogs escaping or mixing. By the time I reached the scene, there was blood everywhere, the result of two dogs fighting without interruption. One, an older male around nine years old, had all his teeth bent out of his mouth and flesh ripped off his body. Both were shaking, covered in blood. I called kennel manager Natalia on my mobile and she rang the nurses at FMB’s in-house veterinary centre, and the dogs were taken to hospital.
I was so shocked and, even now, it brings me to tears to remember this. I sat in one of the other paddocks, grabbed a little podenco for a cuddle and wept for two hours straight. Natalia tried to comfort me, reassuring me that the dogs were fine and sadly it’s normal for fights to occasionally break out in cramped quarters. Coming from the UK, where dogs are not accustomed to having to fight for their life and I had only ever seen snarls between pets in the park, it was a haunting experience.
What hurt me the most was the older dog having to fight. At his age, he should be lying on a sofa living out his senior years in peace, not defending himself against younger dogs. It broke my heart and all my grief about the past abuse of galgos – the scared shaking ones, the grey-muzzled ones who didn’t deserve to be constantly overlooked for adoption – was overwhelming. That incident was the straw that broke the camel’s back, and I was a tearful mess. Natalia told me to take the afternoon off and I returned to the farmhouse and visited the puppy pens for comfort. The next day all the workers at FBM were so kind, asking if I was ok and telling me both dogs were well. I felt a bit silly to be so upset, but it affected me a lot – and still does now. I suppose I need thicker skin, but the experience was a brutal confrontation with the harsh reality of overcrowded shelters and people abandoning dogs in Spain.
FBM works hard to provide for dogs in need, yet last year they were forced to shutter their doors: they only have so much space and limited resources and do their best every day to protect and save dogs. All the staff are heroes and deserve medals for their efforts. Please keep donating to these charities as it means so much to them and the animals in their care.
What was the most rewarding thing about volunteering at a galgo rescue shelter in Spain?
The best thing was the affection from the dogs and seeing how much most of them loved to be around people. Despite all the suffering they had likely experienced at the hands of humans, 99 percent of them desperately wanted the opportunity to be loved again and jumped up at you wildly in search of attention. You could spend all day sat on the kennel floors, playing with them. It really was the most rewarding part of my experience, caring for these sweet souls and discovering all their different personalities. If I could, I would have taken them all home with me.
I believe you ended up taking a couple of hounds home! Could you tell us about your two?
The adoption of Mufin (now Alba) and Madoc (now Leon) is a funny story. FBM has a list of all the dogs currently ready for adoption, though there are others in the kennels that have been reserved by charities to be taken into foster in the UK, France, USA and Germany. Armed with the list of available non-reserved dogs, I would try to track them down through their kennel number, weight, size, colour and name. Sometimes, though, the dog’s name had been rubbed off their collar and it could be difficult to identify them in the pack. One dog caught my eye: a small male galgo who I believed to be Leon. He was gentle and sweet and when I entered the kennel, he was never able to push through the bolder boys leaping up for attention at the front. But when I managed to reach him through the sea of his kennelmates, I discovered he loved attention. I visited Leon every day and we built up a bond. He knew me as the cheese lady and would follow me with his eyes when I passed, hoping for a tasty treat and a head rub.
I told one of the FBM workers I had fallen in love with Leon. I took him out for a few solo walks to gauge what he was like away from the pack: he was a dream. I emailed Helena at Project Galgo and asked her to please reserve him for me. FBM kennel manager Natalia, who had been on leave while all this happened, was puzzled on her return when I told her that ‘Leon’ would be coming to live in Edinburgh with me. She pointed out that the dog I was petting was in fact Madoc, and that the real Leon was one of his kennel mates – the very excited boy that was always the first to run wildly to the front of the kennel.
Madoc, unfortunately, was reserved to travel to Germany in a month’s time. I was so sad, as the real Leon, though equally as lovely, seemed too excitable for my lifestyle. I knew in my heart that if I took that bouncing energetic boy home, he might be too much for me to cope with on my own and he would likely not settle while I was at work as well as a quieter dog would. Luckily, it turned out Madoc in fact had no adopter lined up via the German rescue and he could be pulled from transport. And so, Madoc was reserved again – this time for me. Although a humorous story now, it could have ended up with the wrong dog turning up Edinburgh! If that had been the case, I would have kept the real Leon and made it work but I am thankful we spotted the error in time, so that I could adopt my soul dog.
I decided to rename Madoc to Leon, to remember the funny mix-up. Leon means lion in Spanish and though my boy is a quiet soul, I wanted him to be brave for his journey to Scotland and I hoped it would encourage him to realise his potential!
Now, for Mufin (renamed Alba on adoption), an honorary ‘galgo’ at the shelter. She was found on the streets a wild mass of matted curls and dreadlocks, with her puppy in tow. I think she was used for breeding as despite her poor condition, her belly had been shaved – likely for the puppy to access her milk.
I fell in love with Alba the moment I saw her. I have always had a soft spot for scruffy hounds. Alba looks like a mix between a spaniel and a Portuguese water dog. She is 11kg and has these crazy curls and cute little fluffy face. She was anxious at first but would cautiously waggle her little bum and creep over for snuggles when I sat down in her kennel. I decided I was going to adopt her the second time I met her, when she sidled onto my lap and flopped back like a baby, exposing her tummy and falling asleep in my arms. I knew I had to bring her home and give her all the love she deserved. Alba wore her heart on her sleeve, and I adored that about her.
What were the logistics involved with adopting from FBM?
Luckily, because I had been in contact with Project Galgo, Helena kindly did all the hard work liaising with FBM. I am so grateful to her for her help. Alba needed extra time before she could travel for her puppy to be weaned, and Alba then would be spayed and treated for anaplasmosis [a tick-borne condition]. Though I was desperate for the dogs to arrive as soon as possible, I knew the process had to be done properly and that Alba in particular needed to be fit and well to travel. I could have had Leon earlier, but I intended to take three weeks off work to settle the dogs in and I wasn’t able to do that twice. I also thought the pair might find it easier to settle in together. It was a painful few months waiting, but Natalia sent me near-daily videos of Alba and Leon to keep me going. Plus, it gave me time to prepare my house and make sure everything was ready for their arrival.
How have they adjusted to being in a home?
The dogs arrived at 2am on 31 August 2024. We led the pair into the garden straight from the transport truck to relieve themselves and then carried them up the three flights of stairs to my flat. The first night I stayed awake till 5am, reassuring them. The hum of the fridge, the sound the door made when it closed – everything was new to them. Alba’s first move was to do a big wee on the carpet and then jump onto the sofa with a cheeky grin. I knew from that moment that she would be a little mischief-maker! Leon was more reserved and spent a lot of time sniffing and looking confused. After a few hours I went to bed and watched them from the pet camera in my room. I left them in the living room for safety and they both explored their new beds and then were out like a light.
For the first five days I shuttled the dogs between the house and the garden, which was similar to their routine at FBM from kennel to paddock. On day six, my brilliant dog walker Sandro was introduced to his charges. I decided it was best to start as we meant to go on, so Sandro joined in with our routine for a few days before slowly phasing it to him taking the dogs into the garden alone. Sandro came three times a week while I was on annual leave, preparing Alba and Leon for my return to work. I gradually added in short walks; Alba was terrified, but Leon took everything in his stride. The first few weeks were tough but day by day, the dogs became familiar with their new life and began to settle in.
Sandro then took the pair on sniff walks when he felt they were ready, and slowly built this up by venturing to the local park. He incorporated walks to his van to encourage the dogs into the crates for a treat and then amble back home again. Four weeks later, he felt confident taking Alba and Leon on a small group dog walk. Everything went smoothly and it was all down to his patience and dedication gaining their trust. I added in training for separation anxiety, progressing from leaving the dogs in another room while I was in the house, to going out for ten minutes and gradually increasing the amount of time they were alone. This meant my return to work went smoothly, bar a few furniture nibbles from Alba here and there, though enrichment activities halted that issue in its tracks. She has developed into a confident and secure dog, though I feel it could have easily gone the other way without routine and training.
Have their characters changed since you first met them in the shelter?
Alba is the most loving, affectionate little fluffball. She craves human attention and will take any opportunity to sit on you for cuddles. She’s very excitable and needs a lot of exercise and mental enrichment to keep her stimulated. Leon has been a chilled-out chap since the day I adopted him. I underestimated him hugely in the shelter: he is quietly confident and takes everything in his stride. He’s very calm, affectionate and is the stable, secure companion that Alba needs – he’s the perfect role model. Saying that, Leon has loosened up since I met him in the shelter, transforming from a quiet dog whose tail rarely wagged to a playful zoomie-loving lad whose butt never stops wiggling.
And one other big thing: though Leon was my shadow for the first eight weeks, he never approached me for a cuddle. He saw Alba snuggle up to me but wasn’t brave enough to make the move. But then suddenly a switch flicked, and one day he collapsed against me on the sofa and rolled onto his back for belly scratches. Since then, he has been unstoppable and will jump into my bed in the morning and curl up on my chest; he even awkwardly tried to sit on my knee when I sat on a chair recently.
Leon has been a slow burner, and I love that about him. He is relaxing and learning the world is not a threatening place and that he can let his guard down. It’s so beautiful to see, and such a contrast from Alba. They really balance each other out wonderfully. I adore them both.
Did you face any challenges along the way?
Alba is part spaniel and part Portuguese water dog, so her temperament made her susceptible to separation anxiety. Routine is essential to prevent her from turning into a wild child! It was touch and go with chewing in the early days when we were training her to feel safe and happy left alone, especially during the night, and she took longer to be housebroken than Leon. But time really has helped with this, and the more she has settled and become used to a structured routine, the better behaved she is. Occasionally, there are lapses but it is early days, and she is only two years old, so just a baby still learning.
What advice would you give to anyone considering volunteering?
Do it! I already plan to return to FBM next year and volunteer again, it was just the most wonderful experience and the people at FBM are the most fantastic kind-hearted souls you will ever meet. Not only did I find two dogs, I also made some great friends and met people I will never forget.
If you have the time, volunteer for a minimum of a week to really understand what the reality of dog rescue is. Pack plenty of canine treats, a pair of wellies to protect your feet (imagine the amount of poo there might be from six hundred dogs and then double it!), clothes you don’t mind getting dirty and a bottle of sunscreen, and you are set. FBM has a farmhouse on site, which made it easy for me to visit as a single woman and feel safe. The team felt like family and the process was easy from start to finish. It was hands-down one of the best experiences and I recommend it to everyone.