Meet the Heart Behind Justice for Samson Animal Rescue
Hey y’all, it recently hit me that many of you who follow Justice for Samson Animal Rescue might not even know who I am. So… let me introduce myself.
Am I perfect? Absolutely not.
Do I learn from my mistakes? Every single time.
My love for animals started when I was just a kid. My mom wasn’t an animal person at all, but that didn’t stop me. Every time I brought an animal home, she’d eventually give in. Some I kept, others I found homes for—even as a child in elementary school. My happiest childhood memories are at my aunt and uncle’s place—riding horses, feeding cows by hand, hunting for chicken eggs in the barn, and playing with dogs and cats. (Even Slinky the cat, who was mean to everyone but me!)
As I got older, life took me through school and career paths. I graduated from Central Texas College with an associate degree in Business Management and later earned a B.S. in Psychology with a minor in Biblical Studies from Colorado Christian University—back in the early 2000s, not recently like some think!
But the real turning point came when Samson entered my life.
After 14 years without a pet, Samson—my Shar Pei / English Mastiff mix—was everything to me. I taught him basic commands and even how to "pray." He went everywhere with me: church, recovery meetings, parades, lakes—you name it. Along the way, we rescued Memphis, a sweet dog someone tried to dump. That was 17 years ago. Memphis is still with me today.
At one point, I lost housing because no one would rent to someone with a “dangerous breed.” So Samson, Memphis, and I lived out of my car for a time. But I never once thought about giving them up. I kept my job. I kept my dogs. That’s just how deep the bond ran.
Eventually, I had to make a hard decision: move 125 miles away to keep Samson safe. After being wrongfully labeled dangerous and harassed by a local animal control officer, I fought in court and won. But even after following every rule, the harassment didn’t stop.
Then tragedy struck.
We were living on 10 acres, sharing the land with other renters. The landlord had given me permission to fence a half-acre for my dogs. Everything was fine—until the landlord’s daughter took over. Suddenly, I was told Samson had to go… but Memphis could stay. That made no sense. But I stayed because we had nowhere else to go.
Samson was poisoned—three times.
I rushed him to the vet each time. I never stopped to ask how I would pay for it. I just needed to save him. But the third time was too much. The vet finally confirmed he’d been deliberately poisoned. It was too late. I lost the best friend I ever had.
That loss was the spark that started it all.
At first, I created an education platform about dog poisoning. Most people don’t know how many household items can be deadly to pets—or how subtle the symptoms are. At the time, I was studying biology, and God connected me with a professor who helped prosecute dog poisoning cases at the state level.
Then I started fostering. I thought I knew dogs—until I saw what the rescue world really looked like. Abuse. Starvation. Hoarding. Kill shelters. I fostered for years and learned from women who had been rescuing for decades.
In 2018, I officially founded Justice for Samson Animal Rescue. I applied for my state and federal nonprofit exemptions myself, without attorneys—just questions, research, and passion.
Has it been easy? Not even close.
This path has been full of heartbreak, struggle, and setbacks. But I always get back up. Because I made a promise to Samson—and to every dog like him—that their lives matter.
The truth? The rescue world can be ugly. The competition, the jealousy, the cliques. Too many want to be "the hero" and fill kennels for the sake of numbers. But what kind of life is that for a dog?
That’s not us.
We’re small, and we’ll stay that way. We don’t chase numbers. We focus on quality of life. We take the overlooked—especially BSL (Breed-Specific Legislation) dogs—and we work one-on-one with them to heal and prepare for a better life.
I don’t want to be anyone’s hero.
Just that one dog’s hero.
Over and over again.
— Lori
Founder, Justice for Samson Animal Rescue
samsonsjustice.org
