On a typical Sunday afternoon in Orange Beach, Shelly Hayes noticed her golden retriever, Bailey, was not acting like himself. He had vomited once, then again, and struggled to make it down the …
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On a typical Sunday afternoon in Orange Beach, Shelly Hayes noticed her golden retriever, Bailey, was not acting like himself. He had vomited once, then again, and struggled to make it down the stairs.
Just after lunchtime, she heard a loud thump.
Bailey had collapsed.
Alarmed, Hayes, a mother and public accountant, started looking for places that could help her figure out what was happening to Bailey, but she quickly realized there was no emergency veterinary care available nearby. In a panic, she and her family loaded Bailey into the car and began driving to the nearest available emergency clinic — more than an hour away, in Pensacola. Her son called ahead to let them know they were coming.
Hayes drove in the middle lane, hazard lights on, desperate to make it in time.
Even with aggressive driving, traffic lights and highway conditions slowed them down.
"It still took me an hour," she said.
When they arrived, Hayes stayed outside with their other dog, Abby, while Bailey was rushed inside. A few moments later, her son's girlfriend came out and said, "You need to go tell Bailey bye."
The veterinarian later suggested that Bailey most likely had a mass on his spleen that ruptured and caused internal bleeding, leading to blood pooling around his heart. Hayes was told there was likely nothing they could have done, but yet she still wonders if faster care could have made a difference.
Bailey was 5 years old.
"Even two years later, I'm still with this," she said. "It was just something that was beyond our control. We don't live close to a place that has emergency [care]."
Hayes' story isn't an isolated one. As Baldwin County's population continues to rise, now with the sixth fastest-growing metro area (Fairhope-Daphne Foley) in the United States, so does the number of pets living in the area. More families, more retirees and more newcomers from out of state are fueling the county's rapid growth. But while neighborhoods and businesses are expanding to meet demand, critical veterinary infrastructure has not.
Baldwin County still lacks a dedicated 24/7 emergency animal hospital. In critical situations, pet owners are left with few options besides making the long, often frantic drive to emergency clinics in Mobile or Pensacola, both more than an hour away for many residents. For some, like Hayes, that delay can carry devastating consequences. Others are left wondering why a county with such visible expansion has no veterinary safety net — and what it might take to finally get one.
One of those residents is Bob Echols, a retired lawyer and author, who faced a similar emergency with his dog after local clinics turned him away during a weekend.
Mary, one of his two miniature poodles, wasn't acting strange. Normally full of energy and eager to play with her sister, Annie, the 10-year-old had suddenly become spiritless. She stopped eating. She showed no interest in going outside. Then she walked over and placed a paw gently on Echols' leg.
"That was her way of telling me something was wrong," he said. "And I looked at her and said, 'We've got to take you in. This isn't right.'"
But it was a Saturday, and like many pet owners in Baldwin County, Echols discovered he had no local options.
"They were all the same, either closed or only open for a sliver of time," he said. "Their websites all said the same thing: not accepting new emergency clients."
The only place that could help was MedVet, an emergency veterinary hospital in Mobile, more than 30 miles away. Echols packed Mary into the car and began the drive, bracing for the possibility of a traffic jam on the Bayway or Causeway.
"You're surrounded by water. There'd be nothing I could do," he said. "If she started dying on that bridge, I'd have to just sit there and watch it happen."
Luckily, traffic was light that day. When they arrived, vets found Mary was suffering from internal bleeding caused by a ruptured spleen. She was taken into surgery immediately and later diagnosed with hemangiosarcoma, an aggressive, fatal cancer that affects blood vessels. Unlike for Bailey, Mary's procedure gave her a little more time, but not much. A month later, Mary's symptoms had returned, and she passed away soon after.
The experience left Echols shaken yet determined.
"Some kind of emergency facility in Baldwin County," he said. "Foley, Fairhope, somewhere central. Because no one should have to face that drive with a dying pet in the backseat."
It's a belief he reflects on in his book, "For Our Friends the Animals: Cultivating a Reverence for Life," which explores the emotional and spiritual bonds between people and their pets, a connection made even more meaningful by his own experience.
"These are creatures of God," he said. "They deserve the best care we can give; not secondhand or second-class treatment. Someone in this community has a real chance to step up and change that."
Veterinary professionals in Baldwin County are well aware of the gap in emergency care — and many say they feel just as helpless as the pet owners they serve.
Tamaran Rigby, a certified vet tech who works as the hospital manager for Central Baldwin Veterinary Hospital in Robertsdale, said her clinic frequently sees emergencies they're simply not equipped to handle.
"It sucks," she said. "We all got into this field because we care about animals. To not have a nearby resource, knowing we can't offer that resource, it's hard. The best you can do is say, 'I'm sorry.' But that doesn't make it better."
Most general practices in the county don't have the resources or staffing to provide round-the-clock care. Some can stabilize animals in emergencies, but only briefly, before referring them to hospitals in Mobile or Pensacola. And even that is often too much to ask for many clients.
"Sometimes we hospitalize those animals ourselves even when we know we aren't set up for it because there's nowhere else for them to go," Rigby said.
The biggest obstacle to opening an emergency clinic isn't just money; it's also people.
"Staffing is the biggest hurdle," she said. "There just aren't enough vets coming through school fast enough. Support staff is even harder. Most of the people we hire are new. You need experience to run an ER, and we just don't have that kind of workforce in this area."
In her view, a possible solution would be for a national emergency veterinary chain to step in.
She said the most realistic path forward would likely involve an established emergency care company, such as Veterinary Emergency Group, opening a clinic in Baldwin County. That's their specialty, she explained, and several local professionals have already made the case to VEG representatives at national conferences, emphasizing the county's rapid growth and urgent need for services.
Community advocacy could also help drive change.
"The more people who speak up, even just emailing or calling to say, 'Hey, we're in Baldwin County and we need you' — the more likely it is they'll take notice," she said.
Many say real progress will take a combined effort — with vets, clinics and the community all working together to bring better emergency options closer to home. Until then, families are left hoping for clear roads, good timing and that help is not too far down the road.
Gabriella Chavez is a Report for America corps member who writes about growth and development in Baldwin County and our natural spaces for Gulf Coast Media. Your donation to match our RFA grant helps keep her writing stories like this one; please consider making a tax-deductible gift of any amount today by visiting https://tinyurl.com/yaf8yf5n.