When the world shut down in 2020, Vineeta Pradeep opened her door.
During the chaos of COVID-19, she began noticing something no one around her was paying attention to — the animals who were quietly suffering. “Everyone was feeding street dogs,” she recalls, “but no one was helping the ones who were sick or injured.” So she and her family began bringing home the worst-off: kittens with infections, puppies with fractures, and animals who required weeks or months of care. That was the beginning.
At the time, the family lived in Rajasthan. In 2021, her husband’s job — he is a civil engineer — brought them to Himachal Pradesh. By the time they shifted, they already had 48 rescued animals living with them.
What met them in Himachal was unexpected. Vineeta discovered that her district had no functional shelter, no 24×7 emergency care facility, and no ambulance services for animals. She saw abandoned pets being left in the forests and injured animals with no place to go.
“I realised we couldn’t leave,” she says. “If we left, the animals we were caring for would go back to having nothing.”
Rescuing the ones everyone else leaves behind
Himachal’s quiet hills hide many abandoned animals — pets no longer wanted, male calves with nowhere to go, injured strays, and animals left in remote areas with no support.
“We do not do selective rescue,” she says. “We take everybody.”
Over the last four-and-a-half years, Vineeta and her family have rescued over 650 animals. Today, 200 animals remain under their care, including dogs, cattle, and a few cats.
Every critical medical case is taken to the Palampur Veterinary University — a long, expensive journey that often happens multiple times a week.
Life inside the forest shelter
Sarama operates from a remote, forested patch near a riverbank. Every day is a balancing act of care, logistics, and survival.
Food alone is a massive responsibility:
They cook 87 kilos of rice a day, every single day, to feed the dogs twice. Add to that 50 kilos of cattle feed, medicines, and medical treatments.
With no water pipeline in the terrain they are located in, the family relies on tankers. Transport costs are high, and very few drivers agree to take animals in their vehicles.
Manpower is limited to the family.
Her elder son left his studies in Bangalore to help cook huge pots of rice daily. Her younger son handles the physical labour — unloading sacks, cleaning, preparing bedding, and supporting rescues.
Winters are particularly harsh. Without concrete structures, cold air flows through the shelter. The family stays awake at night burning leftover firewood to keep elderly and recovering animals warm and safe from hypothermia.
Years of hostility and displacement
Running a shelter in a rural area has come with its own share of tension.
Vineeta recounts several incidents over the years in which local hostility resulted in their rented spaces being vacated or damaged. During one such incident in 2022, one of her earliest rescued dogs ran away in fear and was never found. In another, two frightened dogs escaped into the forest after loud disruptions and were never traced.
The emotional toll of these moments remains heavy. “We never counted our own injuries,” she says. “All we cared about was the animals who went missing.”
The repeated displacements forced her to move the shelter multiple times and rebuild from scratch each time. Despite this, she continued rescuing.
Why they finally registered as an organisation
For years, Sarama ran independently, without any public fundraising. Everything came from her husband’s salary, the family’s savings and, ultimately, the sale of their personal belongings.
“We sold whatever we had,” she says, “because stopping was not an option.”
After years of operating informally, Vineeta was encouraged by officials and well-wishers to register so she could seek support and formal recognition.
In June 2025, Sarama Animal Foundation became a registered organisation.
The rescues don’t stop
Despite financial strain and limited resources, the family hasn’t stopped responding to emergencies. Vineeta receives calls at all hours — an abandoned dog on a roadside, a calf left after birth, a paralysed animal in need of immediate care.
During the interview, she shared a case of a weak pitbull who had been left outside with only a thin blanket. She travelled across the district to collect second-hand bedding from residents so that the dog would not sleep unprotected that night.
“If we wait for funds, the animal may not survive,” she says. “So we go.”
What Sarama needs now
Vineeta is not asking for rewards or recognition. What she needs is stability — a space where she can keep the animals safe without the constant fear of being displaced again.
Her husband, with his engineering background, has already drawn up plans for a future permanent shelter — with species-wise areas, a small medical unit, and even biogas generation to reduce operational costs. Vineeta has also started a small online business to reduce dependency on donations.
An ambulance, which a fundraiser group has offered to help arrange, would ease a significant portion of their daily emergencies.
A family holding up an entire district
In a region where animal welfare infrastructure is minimal, Sarama Animal Foundation has become an anchor for hundreds of abandoned and injured lives.
“We don’t have the option to stop,” Vineeta says. “If we stop, they die.”
Her voice doesn’t break — it is simply resolute.
And in that quiet determination lies the true heart of Sarama:
a family fighting every single day to give safety, dignity, and life to those who have nowhere else to go.
