Savunmasız Canlar: Creating a safe living space for rescued dogs through collective effort

“Spartacus! Come here,” Timur Yılmaz exclaims as the playful dog hops onto my lap. Spartacus has pointy ears and eyes of different colors —one blue and the other brown— that shimmer with delight. His friendliness warms me on this cold winter day. Spartacus is so beautiful that I can’t take my eyes off him. He is one of the hundreds of dogs sheltered at Savunmasız Canlar (Vulnerable Lives) and seems to be the acting president of the welcome committee. Along with a German Shepherd and another stray dog, they are determined to ensure they receive plenty of attention before I’m allowed in. To greet them, I gently pat each lovable committee member’s head, and they wag their tails joyfully in response. Timur approaches, saying, “Aren’t you a pretty boy?” As he shows me the way inside the facility, he can’t help but join in the joyful display of affection.

Savunmasız Canlar is a plot of land located in the scenic Gölyazı area of Bursa’s Nilüfer district. It has been transformed by volunteers into a living space for rescued dogs. The facility provides shelter and care for abandoned dogs, strays who struggle to survive on the streets, and dogs who have been discharged from municipal shelters. My guide, Timur, meets me at the entrance, dressed in black fisherman boots, a black beanie, and a thick winter coat. He is the founder of this sanctuary and dedicates all his time to caring for the dogs. After welcoming me, he quickly says, “If you’ll excuse me, I need to feed the dogs first.” I watch him closely while petting the dogs; he carries ten to fifteen-kilogram bags of dog food on his back, filling the food bowls. The dogs come before everything else.

Timur tells me that although the precise number is always changing, there are around 1200 dogs on the plot of land. There are puppies, those that have given birth, as well as older, disabled, and ill dogs. “There are 126 puppies no bigger than my hand,” says Timur. Savunmasız Canlar has become a safe harbor for dogs who need care. Some of them used to roam the streets freely, others are purebreds which were purchased and then abandoned. Of course, there are many dogs who were rescued from shelters by volunteers or found in unsafe street environments. And so the list goes on.

Savunmasız Canlar is situated on a sizable plot of land. Surrounding me are doghouses and containers that were built or purchased with the help of volunteers. Some containers have the names of the donors displayed on top. The dogs are housed in paddocks, separated based on their size and compatibility with one another. Additionally, there are dogs that share common areas for shelter. During my visit to Savunmasız Canlar on this chilly day, I found myself reflecting on the challenges faced by those who come here each day to care for and feed hundreds of dogs. The moment I stepped onto the property, I could feel my nose and hands freezing. Unfortunately, despite the selfless dedication of the volunteers, the number of dogs in need of support continues to grow with each passing day.

“Imagine a neighborhood with a hundred households. Out of those one hundred, only a couple actively try to help the animals living on the streets. As a result, those animals treat the two caring households well,” Timur says as he leads me to the only container that does not house dogs. We are discussing the government’s recent order to municipalities to collect stray dogs off the streets through an amendment to the Law on the Protection of Animals enacted on July 30, 2024. Traditionally, this law has prioritized the care of stray animals, placing the responsibility on municipalities. Like many other animal rights advocates who publicly expressed their outrage during the long debates over the new amendments, Timur feels bitter and indignant about the situation. As he continues to speak, his voice betrays his sadness. “Of the remaining ninety-eight households, seventy dislike animals and even throw stones at them. What can these animals do in response? If all one hundred households acted with humanity and morality, believe me, these animals would alert the neighborhood to any impending danger. God did not create these animals for nothing.”

Four ear-tagged dogs neutered by the municipality gave birth

The space we are in has no furniture except for two small rugs. The other containers are used to shelter dogs with illnesses, those with relatively low immunity, and disabled dogs. We sit side by side on the rugs with Timur. Outside, the wind is howling, and it isn’t much warmer inside, either. I eventually put my phone down because of the cold and rub my hands to warm them up. I then ask Timur, who spends every hour of the day with the dogs, about the claim that street dogs attack people – a claim used to justify the recent legislative amendment. “It’s a political argument,” he says. “If a dog is aggressive, it’s because of people.” He then adds, “If animals are a safety issue on the streets, what about the people who harm women and children? You saw the organizations that carried out propaganda, labeling dogs as a ‘death threat’ until the amendment was made. Have you ever heard them raise their voices about the threats faced by women and children?”

There are over a hundred puppies at Savunmasız Canlar, sheltered in huts and containers with quilts and blankets spread out. Photo: Ayşegül Erkaya Arslan

Timur tells me that the recent amendment, which was publicly debated for months and, despite significant outcry from animal rights advocates, was ultimately enforced with the support of the governing Justice and Development Party (AKP) and the Nationalist Movement Party (MHP) in July 2024, has already had major effects. Under the previous law, municipalities were required to release dogs at the same location where they were found after neutering and vaccinating them. However, the new law stipulates that “there shall be no dogs in the streets,” making it mandatory for municipalities to capture street dogs and place them in shelters. The lack of adequate shelters and the limited capacity of existing ones make it increasingly challenging for animal welfare advocates to care for these animals. The discovery of dozens of dead dog corpses in an empty plot near a municipal animal shelter in Altındağ, Ankara, during the intense debates on the amendment highlighted the urgency of the situation. Additionally, reports of dogs being violently abused in Gebze and Ümraniye, two areas on the outskirts of Istanbul, further illustrated the dire conditions in shelters. More often than not, this process leads to animals either dying or suffering in shelters rather than prioritizing their well-being.

“Spartacus suffered a femur head fracture in his back right leg from a kick he received when he was no bigger than my hand. He lost sensation in that leg.”

Timur observes that the number of street animals being sheltered has significantly increased since the recent amendment to the law. He is particularly concerned about the new requirement mandating microchipping for dogs that are to be neutered. “According to the amended law, any animal eligible for neutering must have an owner. How are we supposed to decide which of these animals to adopt, and how can I care for all of them?” With the number of shelters in Bursa already limited, it is challenging for Savunmasız Canlar to find a solution on its own. “What can the municipalities do? They will become overwhelmed, and if they become overwhelmed, we will be overwhelmed too.”

This is only part of the problem. Timur mentions four ear-tagged dogs that were supposedly neutered by the municipality’s veterinarians but later gave birth after being sheltered at Savunmasız Canlar. “This shows that there is a flaw in the system. If we want to save these animals, the issue should be independent of politics. We’ve ended up in this situation because of the sole focus on neutering,” he says. When I ask him what he thinks will happen next, Timur looks downcast, and his voice is weary. His outlook is not encouraging: he predicts that the number of dogs in Bursa alone could reach 500,000 to 600,000 in the next four to five months. In addition to the challenges posed by the amended law that makes neutering more difficult, Timur highlights the need to limit the production of animals for sale. “You need to start in the villages,” he explains. “There is a sheep farm nearby where the dogs are forced to give birth every six months. They select the puppies they want and abandon the rest by the side of the road. We are the ones providing food for these dogs, who roam around as skinny as skeletons.”

“We need containers, doghouses, and a watering system”

Most of the dogs sheltered at Savunmasız Canlar grew up and were neutered on this plot of land. Timur tells me that 95 percent of them have been given names. All the dogs are good-natured and show affection toward humans. Among them are dogs that have been subjected to violence and have found protection here. Spartacus, who greeted me the moment I walked in, is one of those dogs. Timur begins to tell me Spartacus’s story. “Spartacus suffered a femur head fracture in his back right leg due to a kick he received when he was no bigger than my hand.” He pauses for a moment, giving a faraway look. “After being kicked, he lost sensation in that leg. We managed to reduce it to 30 percent.” It is hard to process such cruelty. Timur shows me a photo of Spartacus as a puppy. The fear reflected in his eyes in that photo has now been replaced by joy.

A photograph of Spartacus upon his arrival in the shelter. Photo: Savunmasız Canlar

Spartacus holds a special place in the heart of Lale Yonga, one of the most dedicated volunteers at Savunmasız Canlar. “He suffered damage to his nervous system due to the violence he experienced as a puppy,” Lale tells me. “As a result, he has bowel and bladder incontinence, making him a challenging dog to adopt. However, he is not aggressive at all. I’m not sure of his breed, but I see him as a work of art. If I had the means, I would give him a place of honor in my home. He always comes to greet me as soon as he sees me, too.”

Lale works at a bank and tells me that she can only visit Savunmasız Canlar on weekends. She expresses her regret for not being able to volunteer more often, saying, “I wish I had the time to help feed the dogs, like the other volunteers.” We meet at a café on a day when she has just returned from Savunmasız Canlar. While we enjoy our tea, she asks with a smile, “Do I smell like dogs?” She is wearing a green hat, a long khaki jacket, and tall Wellington boots suitable for walking in the muddy terrain.

I asked her how she decided to become a volunteer. She explained that she started supporting Savunmasız Canlar after visiting the facility for the first time with a friend. “We saw the condition of the animals and how the place looked,” she said. “Despite the many drawbacks of the land, most of the animals were healthy, and none were underweight. We realized that they must be receiving proper care and that it wasn’t just a façade. That’s how we ended up volunteering for Savunmasız Canlar.”

“We have a mischievous short-legged girl who dislikes men. We think she may have been harmed by a man.”

Lale learned about Savunmasız Canlar from people she met at widespread demonstrations against the infamous legal amendment held last summer. Volunteers organized to help animals through a WhatsApp group they created to coordinate their efforts and stay in touch. “People with cars pick us up, and we work together,” says Lale, who has been dedicating all her free time outside of work to rescuing dogs for the past six months. “Sometimes, after a tiring week, I feel worn out on the weekends or upset about things in my life. But as soon as I see the dogs, a smile lights up my face. They uplift my spirit. I do everything I can to care for them. The moment they wrap their paws around me, all my worries disappear,” she says, beaming warmly.

Lale Yonga with dogs sheltered at Savunmasız Canlar. Photo: Lale Yonga

I can sense her fatigue as she sips her tea, reflecting on the heavy burden the volunteers have taken on. “The number of dogs increases each day, and their needs grow rapidly,” Lale explains. “Our primary needs are spaces, such as containers, where puppies can be better sheltered, as well as doghouses, blankets, and pillows. For instance, we have two dogs that the vet recommended to be ‘euthanized’ because they have cancer. However, the person who brought them to the clinic couldn’t bring themselves to do it, so they left them at Savunmasız Canlar, allowing them to spend their last days here. In such cases, we also need medicine for the disabled and sick animals in our care.” Lale also mentions that drinkable water must be carried by hand, which can be particularly challenging, especially during the summer months. Therefore, a proper water system is urgently needed. I ask her how the volunteers cope with the overwhelming need and the reality that they cannot help every animal. “We try to discipline ourselves by acknowledging that we cannot save them all. If we didn’t do this, we would go mad,” Lale replies.

“Animals wouldn’t be aggressive if people didn’t harm them”

Our conversation shifts to the claim of “aggressive dogs,” which was frequently propagated by a campaign against stray dogs during the legal amendment process, especially on social media. Lale believes that this description is misleading and distorts the issue. She explains that unruly and aggressive animals have often been harmed by humans, resulting in their wounded souls. “People believe whatever the camera angle shows them. The truth is, those who abuse these animals make them aggressive, especially since there aren’t sufficient checks when adopting an animal,” she says. Her experiences in the field support this view. Lale recounts a specific dog she suspects may have experienced violence. “We have a short-legged girl who’s a bit mischievous. She does not like men at all. Even Timur tells me, ‘She only approaches you; she only likes you.’ There are dogs like her with whom I have a special bond, and being with them helps me heal.” I recall the dog she refers to as the ‘short-legged girl’ from my visit to Savunmasız Canlar. She is a dog that tucks her tail between her legs and stares down whenever she sees a man. “We think she may have been harmed by a man, but we don’t know what she went through,” Lale says.

Lale Yonga and Spartacus. Photo: Lale Yonga

Timur shares a similar perspective. During our conversation, he mentions that dogs often labeled as “aggressive” are actually gentle breeds. Their negative behaviors typically arise from being forced to fight by humans. Consequently, these animals suffer and are targeted due to human actions. Anyone who has spent significant time with dogs agrees that a dog that hasn’t been trained to harm others, hasn’t been mistreated by humans, and has a strong immune system, will not act aggressively on its own. Timur also notes that he can identify which dogs are healthier when he lights a fire at night for them to gather around. “If a dog has low immunity, it approaches the fire for warmth. In contrast, healthier dogs tend to stay away from the fire because they don’t need the extra heat.”

“It’s heartbreaking to see animals purchased for tens of thousands of liras left in such a dire state.”

During my first visit to Savunmasız Canlar, I was struck by the sight of a tiny dog that was undoubtedly purebred. I also encountered two Chow Chows and a couple of other purebred dogs. Curious about the fate of so many abandoned purebred animals, I asked Lale for her opinion. She explained that people today increasingly see animals merely as “fashion items.” Timur further emphasized the gravity of the situation, noting that they depend on volunteers to rescue these animals from the streets. He pointed out, “The small dog you’re talking about is a Pinscher. It weighs barely two kilos, and its legs are extremely thin. It’s heartbreaking to see these animals, which people purchase for tens of thousands of liras, left in such a dire state.”

The event that perhaps changed the course of Timur’s life occurred on the Bursa-İzmir highway about twenty years ago. While he was driving, he noticed dogs lying in the path of cars. “They wanted to die. At that moment, I thought, ‘We must be doing something wrong,’” he recalls, repeating, “We must be doing something wrong.” Savunmasız Canlar is an initiative aimed at addressing these mistakes, or at least compensating for them. Through this effort, I once again realized how much selfless dedication it takes to coexist with animals on the streets, in cities, and in villages, especially when the right policies are not in place. I also witnessed how positively animals respond to approaches that prioritize their needs.

Purebreds and dogs living on the streets are sheltered together at Savunmasız Canlar. Photo: Ayşegül Erkaya Arslan

As I explored the property, I came across a paddock brimming with puppies, roughly ten to fifteen in total. A man in his fifties was gently reaching through the wire fence to nourish the tiny, newborn pups with essential vitamins as they stumbled clumsily on their legs. I quickly recognized him as another dedicated volunteer from Savunmasız Canlar, similar to Lale. Later, I noticed him once more, this time tenderly engaging with the tall brown dog who proudly serves as the place’s mascot, perched atop a doghouse. He affectionately said, “My long-legged girl, what mischief are you up to?” His kind words ignited her enthusiasm; her tail wagged faster, and her eyes sparkled with excitement.

After the legal amendment was enforced, numerous representatives from animal rights organizations voiced their concerns both in the streets and on social media, and they continue to do so. Coordinated demonstrations took place in numerous cities, with hundreds of people gathering outside the Constitutional Court to protest against the amendment, but their efforts were in vain. The Turkish Psychologists’ Association issued a warning, stating, “Violence against animals and witnessing such violence can lead to the perception of violence as an acceptable behavior. This, in turn, could increase acts of violence against both animals and humans.” Their statement also highlighted that “the law currently under consideration, which legitimizes the mass killing of stray animals, is harmful to the climate of social peace and humane values. By disregarding the right of animals to live, this law undermines not only the wellbeing of animals but also societal harmony.”

Every day, thousands of dogs, including the purebreds I encountered at Savunmasız Canlar, face abandonment and neglect. Many of these dogs, like Spartacus, live in fear of humans, scarred by past violence, and usually shy away from our presence on the streets. Like his namesake, Spartacus embodies the hope for a world where all animals are granted their right to live peacefully alongside us, and on equal terms. Across Turkey, passionate advocates for animal rights are tirelessly working to combat the detrimental effects of recent changes to animal welfare laws. Thanks to the unwavering commitment of Lale, Timur, and a host of devoted volunteers, approximately 1,200 dogs at Savunmasız Canlar in Bursa now find safety and happiness.

This article was published as part of a program supported by the UK Ankara Embassy’s Bilateral Cooperation Programme. The content of this article is solely the responsibility of P24. The UK Embassy cannot be held liable for the information provided in this article.

Tags: animal protection, animal rights