Meet the Canadian who’s feeding Ukraine’s stray dogs

Duane Taylor was combing through the southwestern port city of Izmail in war-torn Ukraine, looking for stray dogs. “Good boy, would you like some food?” he remembers calling out into the chilly night air. 

A skinny puppy trotted up to him fearlessly, ripped the pouch of food apart, inhaled it in one gulp, and smeared the little that was left across its muzzle. Mr. Taylor broke into a chuckle. He had to dodge bullets and missiles, and endure blown-up roads and wary border police during his two forays into Ukraine. But moments such as these made his risky enterprise worthwhile.

“He’s happy,” Mr. Taylor says of the satisfied pup, during an evening Skype call from his home in Ottawa, Ontario. “And it does make you feel good.”

The need to feed stray animals in Ukraine is huge right now, says Lori Kalef, director of programs at the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals International. Even before war broke out there in February 2022, the country was overpopulated with strays. But their numbers soared when the conflict began and millions of refugees fled Ukraine, many of them reluctantly leaving behind their pets.

Living conditions for the abandoned animals have been dire, Ms. Kalef says during a phone interview from Victoria, British Columbia. Strays are vulnerable to hunger, thirst, and the vicissitudes of weather. And at a time when resources for displaced humans are scarce, strays are seen as a low priority. “Without people like Duane or other organizations,” Ms. Kalef says, “the animals who are still in Ukraine wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Mr. Taylor, who hails from Newfoundland, started Impact Express, a project that delivers pet food and veterinary supplies to stray cats and dogs in Ukraine and neighboring Moldova, about two months after Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine began. He has completed two trips to Ukraine, delivering more than 66,000 pounds of food to thousands of strays, by his estimate. He has spent more than $75,000 – the bulk from his own pocket, after dipping deeply into his life savings.

Mr. Taylor says he has always had a soft spot for animals, ever since sharing his crib with the family cat. Over the years, he has adopted and cared for a wide array of creatures, even building a protective shelter once for a couple of pigeons that landed on his balcony and laid eggs. 

But in Mr. Taylor’s recollection, none of the animals he has known could compare to the floppy-eared Pyro. The pup’s abusive owner inflicted multiple injuries on the dog before turning him out onto Ottawa’s streets a few years ago. Mr. Taylor’s niece adopted Pyro, and Mr. Taylor helped to care for him, taking him on trips to PetSmart and the park. He also spent thousands of dollars trying to save the animal. Although Pyro seemed to bounce back, he died in Mr. Taylor’s arms six weeks later. The dog lover was devastated. 

That’s when he vowed to dedicate much of his life to helping abandoned pets. “I feel for the animals,” says Mr. Taylor, a senior policy adviser for Canada’s federal government, because “humans cause every bit of suffering for every animal.”

The war in Ukraine galvanized Mr. Taylor to act on a larger scale. After creating Impact Express, he flew to Romania in April 2022, procured a van, and filled it with pet food and medical supplies that he drove across the border to shelters in southern Ukraine. When he returned home, Mr. Taylor’s colleague at Impact Express, Gabor Petru, who heads his own nonprofit, Volunteers Without Borders, continued to drive the van on weekly trips to Ukraine, while Mr. Taylor oversaw his organization’s operations from his house in Ottawa. Mr. Taylor returned to Ukraine in September 2023 for another two-month stint. 

He recalls that he faced many obstacles while carrying out his missions to the war zone. Shortly after he had embarked on his first trip, he entered a military checkpoint outside Odesa. An officer there suddenly began screaming at Mr. Taylor in rapid-fire Ukrainian. Mr. Taylor tried to break through the impasse, deploying the only Ukrainian he knew: the words for “dog” and “food.” No dice. Then he tried a universal language, barking, “Woof, woof.” The officer didn’t understand that, either. Finally, Mr. Taylor called a colleague at a nearby shelter and passed the phone to the officer, and the incident was resolved.

During his second trip, Mr. Taylor recalls, he was forced to languish at the border between Ukraine and Romania for nine days. To leave, he had to navigate past highways obliterated by missiles. 

Staff members at Datcha Animal Shelter in Chișinău, Moldova, where many Ukrainians relinquished their pets, are glad Mr. Taylor persisted. Irina Marcu, who runs the place, says Mr. Taylor is “like a person who came from the sky. Our angel.”

Mr. Taylor has almost single-handedly supplied the shelter’s 400 dogs and 80 cats with food, paid for veterinary care, and brought the animals to a nearby clinic through almost-impassable forest roads. He has also constructed large, comfortable cages.

Mr. Taylor says he has come to the aid of his own species, too. He regularly supplies refugee centers with basic goods. On one occasion, he passed through a Ukrainian village populated mostly by older people. When Mr. Taylor heard that they needed adult diapers, he bought a large supply in Romania and delivered it to them when he was back in Ukraine.

He is now back home in Ottawa and feels rewarded. He notes that he received “unconditional love” from the animals, made lifelong human pals during his travels, and has even found unexpected romance with another volunteer at a shelter for strays.

“I honestly think every single day, many hours a day, how can I help dogs better?” says Mr. Taylor. “It is my purpose in life.”