Inspiration Behind “Thirty Days to Home”

By Cathryn Rakich

Street dogs are unheard of where I live in suburban Sacramento, a sprawling Northern California community of 1.5 million people. Stroll along a neighborhood boulevard and you won’t see meandering mutts without owners tethered to the other end of a leash. A drive down the highway reveals no uncorralled canines trotting from one freeway offramp to the next. 

I’m not saying there are no homeless dogs—or cats, for that matter—in the neighborhoods and communities that make up the greater Sacramento area. In fact, the county of Sacramento is home to three distinct and impressively large animal shelters—the city shelter, county shelter, and local SPCA. Combined, the three facilities took in more than 20,000 dogs and cats in 2025.

But when a pooch is observed roaming loose without an owner in sight, you can bet a good Samaritan, or several, will pull over their cars or come out of their homes and businesses to round up the lost mongrel.

The same cannot be said of some of California’s more rural communities, where purposeful breeding, careless ownership, and a lack of low-cost spay/neuter are more rampant. But even those street dogs eventually make their way to a local animal shelter, either picked up by animal control officers or brought in by compassionate citizens.

That’s California. That’s the United States. Not so much in many other towns, provinces, and countries around the world where animal welfare takes a backseat to more pressing issues, such as decent wages, clean drinking water, and affordable housing.

I never thought about stray street dogs until I took a Caribbean vacation with my mother forty years ago. Dogs roamed free throughout Jamaica, Aruba, and Curacao. While their freedom may sound romantic—unchained and unfettered, liberated and independent—their liberty came at a cost. Starvation, illness, injury, and eventually death. 

I’ve now traveled to further foreign destinations—large metropolises and small countrysides—where four decades have not seen much change toward regard for companion animals. Homeless dogs and puppies abound on the streets of Central and South America. In India, I witnessed shopkeepers chase nursing moms away with brooms and mange-ridden puppies laying on the side of roads. In Africa, canines with ribs protruding traveled alone or in packs searching for anything edible.

I was in Puerto Escondido, Mexico, where my book is set, when I spotted a street dog with an injured back leg. In my many travels, I had turned my back one too many times on animals in some state of suffering. And I was not going to do it again. But by the time I was able to act, the compromised canine had moved on, to who knows where, from where I first saw him.

Frustrated. Heartbroken. Helpless. Angry. Every emotion poured through my brain. As a longtime animal-welfare advocate and activist in my hometown, I was distraught. As a writer, I was motivated. What could I do to help these creatures who no one owned, no one cared for, no one cared about?

“Thirty Days to Home” became my mission, my message, my way of bringing attention to the homeless dogs and cats throughout the world who suffer through no fault of their own. 

For the past 15 years, my husband and I have rescued, fostered, and found loving families for nearly one hundred dogs and countless cats and kittens in our community. Our city, our state, and our country have a long way to go before we stop killing companion animals because our shelters are overcrowded and there are not enough homes. But the United States is a far cry from other countries where millions of stray dogs and cats fend for themselves, left on the streets to endure hunger, sickness, and injury until they die alone.

I wrote “Thirty Days to Home” as a tribute to those animals—and hope for the day when kindness and compassion extend to all creatures.

Please spay and neuter.

—

Cathryn Rakich has been a writer and editor for thirty-plus years, working in the news and nonprofit world. She currently writes a monthly column on animals and animal welfare for a local magazine and holds a bachelor’s degree in journalism from Sacramento State University. In the thirty years she has volunteered for local animal rescue groups and shelters, she has fostered more than a hundred homeless pets. Cathryn lives in Sacramento, California, with her husband, four rescue dogs, and four rescue cats.

THIRTY DAYS TO HOME

A moving debut about second chances, Thirty Days to Home follows a grieving woman who rediscovers purpose—and unexpected love—through her connection with a stray dog she meets on the streets of picturesque Puerto Escondido, Mexico.

Following the death of her son, Marli May accompanies her husband, Nick, on a work retreat to Puerto Escondido, Mexico, in an attempt to put her grief behind her and repair their strained marriage. But Marli’s resilience is challenged once again when she receives an anonymous text message stating her son’s death was not the accident she has been led to believe. Nick says it is a sick prank, and to forget about it. Of course, he has other things on his mind: He’s having an affair with a coworker. Before the end of their trip he walks away from his marriage, leaving Marli alone in Mexico.

What can bring Marli back from despair this time? Mentally battered and 2,000 miles from home, she turns her attention to a stray street dog and a handsome veterinarian who harbors his own grief. She is told she must wait thirty days before taking the dog out of Mexico and into the United States. That’s thirty days to reevaluate her future, find her strength, and discover the true reason for her son’s death.

Filled with secrets, street dogs, and second chances, Thirty Days to Home follows Marli’s journey as she finds the courage to confront her grief and rebuild her life on her own terms.

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Category: On Writing