When Values Are Violated: Understanding Moral Injury in Animal Care
In the world of animal care, compassion fatigue has long been recognized as a challenge—stemming from the emotional toll of witnessing suffering and being under-resourced while carrying the weight of responsibility for creatures who depend on us. But it’s time we begin discussing another reality within this field: moral injury.
Back in 2019, while completing my doctorate, I began researching moral injury among military populations for my dissertation. Needless to say, the demands of conducting independent research and crafting a several-hundred-page dissertation taught me a great deal about the subject. However, I didn’t anticipate how this knowledge would reappear later in my life—in the realm of animal care.
As I began working with a caseload full of clients exposed to animal-related trauma, volunteering in animal shelters, and pursuing a post-graduate certificate in Veterinary Social Work, those many hundreds of hours of study kept resurfacing. I noticed parallels between the moral injury I had investigated in military populations and what I was observing in animal care.
So, despite the personal time and financial costs involved, I initiated another IRB-approved research study—this time focusing on moral injury in animal care workers. The findings have (nearly) fully supported my hypotheses: moral injury is a distinct issue in animal care, and it’s time we address it as such.
What Is Moral Injury?
Unlike compassion fatigue, which is comprised of burnout and secondary traumatic stress, moral injury is a condition that results from values-based violations. You entered the field of animal protection and welfare because you wanted to honor values that you hold about the worth of these animals and our responsibility to care for them. Yet, by entering this field, you inevitably have also encountered just as many (or possibly more) situations that have simultaneously violated those same (or other) values. These are the realities that leave us susceptible to moral injury.
Litz and colleagues define moral injury as:
"Perpetrating, failing to prevent, or bearing witness to acts that transgress deeply held moral beliefs and expectations."
Moral injury occurs when someone witnesses or is forced to take—or is complicit in—actions that conflict with their moral or ethical beliefs. However, just like other forms of trauma, not all morally distressing events lead to moral injury. It is natural to feel moral pain in response to value violations; this reaction is part of being human.
The challenge we have is recognizing the potential for intensifying moral distress, especially as we experience cumulative exposures. The key is for us to learn to recognize when this normal moral pain transitions into something more damaging—what we label as moral injury. This shift can result in long-term emotional, psychological, behavioral, spiritual, and social harm, often marked by feelings of guilt, shame, or powerlessness.
Sources of Moral Injury in Animal Care
Potentially morally injurious events (pMIEs) are the exposures or situations that can lead to moral injury. While there are many sources of pMIEs to explore, I want to focus on a major one that distinguishes moral injury from other commonly discussed challenges in animal care: interpersonal conflict and public scorn.
This was a key hypothesis in my research. In military contexts, identifying “the enemy” can create dramatic shifts in decision-making about appropriate actions. I hypothesized that parallels exist in animal care: the societal expectation that animal care workers should always be able to prioritize the well-being of animals, even in impossible situations, often creates an unrealistic standard that conflicts with the realities of the profession, such as overburdened systems, financial constraints, and organizational policies.
Then, not only are animal care workers met with their own trauma and loss from these circumstances, but they are also blamed and threatened for not being able to do something different to achieve different, more favorable, outcomes. These accusations and this public scorn directed toward animal care workers—often from the very community they are trying to help—exacerbate the values violations experienced and are a major source of felt betrayal. This dissonance between external expectations and internal realities can create confusion about who the “enemy” is, leading to feelings of inadequacy, guilt, anger, and moral injury.
These circumstances, too, are not rare in animal care. Here are some findings from my research:
72.3% of animal care workers reported receiving threats or accusations from the public at least several times per year (7% experience this daily).
83.1% interact with verbally aggressive members of the public at least several times per year.
This societal and interpersonal dynamic is a significant contributor to moral injury outcomes and is one of many morally violative events that position it as a distinct issue in the field.
Why Addressing Moral Injury Matters
Unaddressed moral injury can lead to burnout, depression, and even withdrawal from the field altogether. But the impact doesn’t stop at the individual level—it affects teams, organizations, communities, and ultimately, the animals themselves. When animal caregivers are grappling with internal moral wounds, their ability to provide optimal care is compromised.
While compassion fatigue leaves caregivers emotionally drained, moral injury often results in deep emotional wounds tied to guilt, shame, and moral conflict. These wounds can shift one’s worldview, affecting every aspect of life. Recognizing and addressing moral injury is essential for creating a sustainable, healthy environment in animal care.
This is not about diminishing the importance of compassion fatigue; it’s about broadening our understanding of the challenges animal care workers face. As we seek to deepen our understanding of moral injury, this enhanced awareness can highlight the ethical complexities of the field and can prompt deeper questions about how we can support animal caregivers and create environments where their values can thrive.
By addressing moral injury, we not only care for those who care for animals but also ensure better outcomes for the animals themselves.
What’s Next?
The good news is that by distinguishing symptoms and conditions like compassion fatigue and moral injury, we can tailor solutions and interventions accordingly.
This blog is just one step in increasing awareness and validating the experiences of animal care workers. But there’s much more to be done. I’m continuing my research, analyzing data, and expanding the conversation. This year has included extensive research, presenting my findings at an international conference, and developing curriculum specific to addressing moral injury in animal care. I look forward to releasing more resources in 2025.
Until then, my hope is to normalize your experiences. The challenges you face go beyond compassion fatigue. This work requires entering ethically and morally challenging situations every single day. Feeling like your values have been violated is incredibly difficult, but there is hope, and there are ways forward.
More resources are coming, and I’m committed to continuing this journey alongside you.
If this resonates with you or someone you know, let’s continue the conversation. Your experience matters.
Dual Decompression: When You Both Need Time to Adjust
Fostering or adopting a new pet entails a process of dual decompression. The journey to a beautiful, lifelong bond with your new pet begins with patience.
It’s 5:45 PM, and though it’s early in the evening, I’ve already changed into my pajamas and sunk into my couch for the night, exhausted. My foster dog, Brisket, is snoring beside me—finally, as of just a few minutes ago. It’s been nearly 24 hours since I brought him home from the shelter for a “slumber party,” possibly a longer-term foster, and today has been nonstop. A walk to the beach, yard play (multiple times), trips to the pet store and Lowe’s, a cider mill outing, and countless other moments have filled our day. Our day began at 7 AM and he reluctantly allowed himself a nap for about 45 minutes around 1:30 (and I much less reluctantly chose to do the same!), and now at 5:45 he is finally just laying down and starting to snore.
I lost count of how many times today I had the thought, “How does he still have so much energy? Does this dog have an off switch?” Yet, each time those words entered my mind, another thought quickly followed: “It’s been one day. He’s still in fight-or-flight mode. He’s decompressing—and so am I.”.
In sheltering and rescue, we often talk about the 3-3-3 Rule:
3 Days: For a dog to transition out of survival mode and start feeling safe.
3 Weeks: To settle into a routine.
3 Months: To feel fully at home
What nobody talks about though is the human side of decompression. Just as Brisket is adjusting to his new environment, I am also adjusting to this temporary partnership. I call this process Dual Decompression. The excitement of fostering or adopting a dog is often accompanied by feelings of overwhelm, fatigue, and doubt. And that’s okay.
Bringing a dog home—whether it’s a foster or a forever pet—isn’t just a transition for the animal. It’s a transition for you, too. It’s messy, emotional, exhausting (tonight was Ramen for dinner because I didn’t have energy for anything else), and it’s also transformative.
The Emotional Whiplash of a New Pet
Our society paints a picture of “puppy bliss” that rarely matches reality. We dream of meeting the “perfect” dog at the shelter, imagining a seamless bond and a fairytale ride home. But real life looks different. The car ride might be filled with nerves, or like it was with Brisket, crying. The first night might be restless…and, let me tell you, the whole first day might be, too!. Your new companion might not yet know the house rules, your language, or what it means to trust you. It’s not uncommon for new pet parents to feel overwhelmed after bringing a dog home, especially when reality doesn’t match the picture-perfect experience you may have imagined. I call this experience emotional whiplash—where excitement turns into overwhelm, and then back and forth again and again as you experience both the joy and the stress of your new companion, and as you adjust to your new life together.
Here are a few reasons why this happens:
Unmet Expectations: In our social media culture, we often see curated images of pet ownership that set unrealistic expectations. We might expect our new puppy to be perfectly groomed, potty-trained, and well-behaved from the start. When reality doesn't match these expectations, it can be shocking and disappointing
Loss of Routine: Bringing a dog into your home often disrupts your previous routines. When we recognize this as a form of loss, it helps to validate the difficult emotions that one feels during this transition period and can give a person permission to grieve. Acknowledging this as a temporary challenge can help you grieve old routines while embracing new ones. It’s a significant adjustment even if it’s ultimately positive.
Overstimulation: Your nervous system may become overwhelmed by the sudden changes and new responsibilities. This is natural! Our bodies are wired to respond to stress, and a new pet adds a lot of stimuli. We often interpret these somatic (body) cues in negative ways, but the key is learning to see that this is natural, not negative, and trust that you can learn to manage these stress responses.
De-stressing will happen but is not immediate: Instead of immediate oxytocin—the “love hormone” that fuels connection—we start with cortisol and adrenaline. These stress hormones are normal during big transitions, for both the dog and the human. The magic happens when we ride through that wave of stress together and arrive at a place of safety, trust, and love.
Relationship Building: You and your dog are building a new relationship, and like all relationships, this takes time. It’s natural to feel uncertain in the beginning. Trust that this period is setting the foundation for a deep and lasting bond. The human-animal bond (HAB) is similar to human-human relationships. Strong relationships—whether human or canine—are built upon a foundation of knowing and being known. This takes time to develop. In the early days, both you and your pet are still getting to know each other and are building trust. This foundational period is crucial for developing a deeper attachment later.
Increased Workload: Animals require training, feeding, supervision, and care; a new furbaby can demand a lot of energy. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed, especially if the transition period is not going smoothly.
Tips for Navigating Dual Decompression
To cope with these stressors and build a fulfilling bond with your pet:
Acknowledge Your Feelings: Just like your dog needs time to adjust, so do you. It’s normal to feel both joy and grief simultaneously. The joy of welcoming a new companion can coexist with the loss of previous routines or expectations. Give yourself permission to grieve unmet expectations without feeling guilty about it. Learn to embrace these seemingly opposing emotions and acknowledge that you can grieve the loss of unmet expectations and old routines even while you are simultaneously leaning into the joy and pleasure of your new pup.
Respect Your Dog’s Space and Time: Your dog is adjusting to a new environment, new people, and new routines. Understand that they may feel fearful, stressed, or disoriented. Use the 3-3-3 rule as a guide and don’t push your dog into situations they aren’t ready for.
Educate Yourself: Learn to read your dog’s body language and recognize signs of stress. Dogs communicate through subtle signals like yawning, lip licking, or turning their head away. These are signs that your dog might need a break. By being responsive to your dog’s needs, you can help them feel more secure.
Accept Your Pet for Their Unique Self: Each pet is unique. Embrace their individual personality and needs, and then focus on building a relationship that works for both of you. This may mean accepting if you have a dog that prefers not to be in certain environments or around certain stimuli. Help set your dog (and yourself) up for success by paying attention to their cues and being responsive to them instead of trying to fit them into a preconceived box.
Practice Positive Reinforcement: Rather than focusing on punishment or control, use positive reinforcement to teach and guide your dog. Reward them for desirable behaviors with treats, praise, and affection. This will build trust and help them learn in a supportive environment.
Take Care of Yourself: Decompression isn’t just for your dog—you need it too. You’re going through a transition and may need time to find your new rhythm. Don’t hesitate to lean on friends, family, or professionals for support. Remember to practice self-care and be mindful of your own emotional and physical needs.
Celebrate Small Wins: Bonding doesn’t happen overnight, but every step forward is a win. Celebrate the small victories—whether it's your dog learning a new command or settling into a routine—and remember that growth happens gradually.
The Science Behind the Human-Animal Bond
The human-animal bond is profound and backed by science. It has been shown to reduce stress (eventually!), lower blood pressure, decrease the risk of cardiovascular issues, improve recovery times following injuries and illnesses, improve social capital, and promote a sense of safety, connection, and love. However, the journey to these joyous and oxytocin-filled moments of connection start with patience. Your dog needs time to feel safe and loved, and so do you. By embracing this process of dual decompression, you’re laying the groundwork for one of the most fulfilling relationships you’ll ever experience.
You’re Not Alone: The Importance of Community
One of the most challenging parts of dual decompression is feeling like you’re doing it alone. The initial overwhelm can make you doubt your decisions, and you might feel isolated in your struggles. But here’s the good news: you’re not alone. There’s a community of fellow pet parents, rescue workers, and trainers who understand what you’re going through.
Reach out when you need help. Whether it’s talking to a friend, joining an online support group, or seeking guidance from a professional trainer, connection and support will help you through the tough days. Your new dog will settle in, and you will find your rhythm together.
Final Thoughts
Bringing home a rescue dog is a beautiful act of compassion, but it’s not without its challenges. The process of dual decompression asks for patience, empathy, and self-compassion. By giving both yourself and your dog the time and space to adjust, you’re not only fostering a healthy bond but also creating a home filled with understanding, love, and mutual respect.
Tonight, as Brisket snores beside me, I’m also recalling how often I laughed and felt joy today, even through the tiredness. I am thankful for how happy he was to be able to be a puppy, without restraint, and how well he did with every person he met today. I am tired, but I’m reminded that both of us are decompressing. His energy wasn’t a sign of lifelong endless endurance but of the stress he’s been carrying. He has an “off switch,” but it’s hidden under layers of anxiety, confusion, and past experiences. My job isn’t to fix him—it’s to uncover that switch gently and patiently, while also allowing myself the same care. The off switch needs a few days to be uncovered, and I can trust myself to help us both unearth it slowly.
So if you, too, are decompressing with a new pup, take a deep breath, give your dog a treat, and know that you’re both doing great! Brisket (who is up and playing again by the way) and I are rooting for you.