#9 EL SALVADOR'S SILENT ANGELS
QUIET PAIN, SEEDS OF HOPE
El Salvador is a breathtaking country, blessed with vast stretches of pristine nature and some of the warmest, most welcoming people I’ve ever met. Yet, every day, something tugs at my heart: the stray dogs—and to a lesser extent, cats—that roam the streets. Their hollow eyes and thin frames are a quiet tragedy amid this beauty.
The stray animal problem here runs deep. Many dogs end up on the streets because people lack the resources or education to spay or neuter their pets. Unwanted litters pile up, and with no means to care for them, puppies are often abandoned. Over time, this cycle has swelled the stray population, leaving countless animals to fend for themselves in a world that can’t always offer them kindness.
Thankfully, there are people like Mainor and his team of volunteers at Salva Peluditos Acajutla who refuse to look away. They do what they can, rescuing dogs from the streets whenever the shelter has space and carefully screening families to ensure each animal finds a loving, permanent home. A few times a week, they load a car with dog food and drive through the region, feeding as many hungry strays as possible. It’s a small comfort—knowing some won’t go to bed with empty stomachs—but it’s like mopping the floor during a flood. It doesn’t stop the source.
That’s why they host monthly sterilization events, a practical step toward a real solution. This morning, I jumped in my car (with a bag of dog food always on hand—I can’t help but stop for the strays I pass), fed three little wanderers along the way, and spent the morning at one of these events in Acajutla.
Here’s what it’s like: a group of big-hearted veterinarians partners with the organization, offering sterilizations at rock-bottom rates. Stray dogs are the priority—spayed or neutered, then placed with temporary foster families to recover. If adoption isn’t an option, they’re released back to the streets. It’s heartbreaking, yes, but at least they can’t reproduce, slowly shrinking the problem. The number of dogs helped depends entirely on donations.
These are a few of the stray dogs that are up for sterilization today:
Then there’s a second group: local pet owners. Many can’t afford sterilization, which fuels those unwanted litters. So, during these events, Salva Peluditos offers the service to residents at a fraction of the usual cost. The vets also take time to teach people about post-op care and general pet responsibility—education that’s crucial for long-term change. Volunteers even collect fabric scraps to sew protective post-surgery pajamas, keeping wounds safe as the dogs heal.
Watching all this unfold, I couldn’t hold back tears. What these people do for creatures who can’t speak for themselves is quietly heroic. But just before I left, a volunteer named Claudia showed me a video that hit even harder. It’s of a stray they feed every night—a poor homeless soul with a massive tumor, desperately needing surgery. (Video not for the faint-hearted). Salva Peluditos wants to cover the cost, and the vets are willing to slash their fees as much as possible.
That’s where I need your help—my friends, my family, anyone reading this. Those who know me know nothing lights me up like helping an animal in need. So, I’ve started a small fundraiser. If you can find it in your heart to donate—big or small, every euro or dollar counts—I’d be forever grateful. Five euros no longer buys two loaves of bread in Belgium, but here, it can transform a life. Another way to help? If you’ve got a social media following with a soft spot for animals, share this story and the fundraiser link. The more eyes on this, the more lives we can save.
The link to the findraiser: https://gofund.me/9a249707
I just made the first donation myself (and this was not our first donation to this good cause), hoping that many of you will follow. Again, we’re happy with every small amount!
From the bottom of my heart, thank you.