For fifteen years, George has been rescuing dogs – a passionate dog lover spending his own time and money to help animals nobody else was helping. In 2025, after all those years of self-funded work, he created D.R.E.A.M.
For a while now, George has been actively rescuing dogs in southwest Türkiye, where a change in the law put thousands of street dogs at risk.
“People only see tourism, the all-inclusive resorts. Behind the scenes, they passed a law to cull stray dogs and went on a ‘cleanse’ that killed thousands. People don’t keep dogs there like we do – they’re either chained up outside as permanent security or used for working. Very few are loved pets with a proper home. I go out to help the ones nobody else will.”
The work is relentless, and almost none of it is funded. George pays his own way: fundraising, taking on whatever jobs he can, scraping together enough for the train to the airport, a cheap flight, and the coach into town. Between trips, back in London and looking for work, the money runs low fast.
“Finding work isn’t easy when you’re bouncing back and forth, months at a time, doing rescue abroad. The money runs out, you hit a wall, and you have to come back to London to start again. It’s a bit soul-destroying knowing the dogs are desperate and in a bad way while you’re trying to get back on your feet.”
That’s where Olio comes in. While he’s job-hunting, it’s how George is able to save up money and spend less on food.
“I couldn’t tell you exactly what I get, because it’s so random. Sometimes it’s Tesco food that I can freeze and use over the week. Other times it’s Pret sandwiches and salads I can make last a couple of days. A week or so ago I picked up a whole week’s worth of chicken pasta bakes and didn’t spend a single penny on food.”
It might sound small, but across the months he spent saving in London this year, it added up.
“It doesn’t fund the rescue work itself. But the savings added up over those months – the money I didn’t spend on food in London probably covered the train to the airport, the flight to Türkiye, and the coach into town. That’s the difference between getting to the dogs and not.”
And once he’s there, every pound stretches further than it would at home.
“London is crazy expensive, but the exchange rate against the Turkish lira goes a long way. It’s actually made a difference to how much I can send each month to cover their costs.”
Right now, three of George’s rescues – Eddie, Luna and Sosis – are waiting in temporary foster kennels in Bodrum, four hours from where he’d been based, ready for their next chapter.
The farm where he’d built his refuge – starting with a DIY shelter pieced together from old travel crates and bits of roofing – had to be given back at short notice, leaving him selling what he can and figuring out what comes next.
“The last few days I’ve been volunteering at a tomato plantation in exchange for food and the use of a shower and laundry, because there’s no water at the cabin. These are the realities behind the scenes that people can’t imagine are happening.”
Through all of it, the Olio community has been a steady thing – the bit of good that helps George execute his mission.
“Getting free food from Olio is a source of positivity. It’s like a weekly dose of faith.”
What does Olio mean to you?
“Olio means more than Olio realises, I think. Right now, I know that once I get the mess here sorted, I’ll have some kind of food support while I look for work. That might well be a saving you could put a number on – but to me it’s worth far more than money. Thank you.”