If you’ve ever wondered what it takes to rescue a stray dog from abroad and bring them home to the UK, this is Babybel’s story. From being a starving puppy roaming the streets of Cyprus to finally finding safety, this journey was emotional, complicated, and completely life-changing.
Belly’s story is very different to Marley’s… because I found her myself.
No rescue. No plan. Just a moment that changed everything.
Her story starts in the north side of Cyprus.
I was on holiday with my mum and daughter when this tiny puppy wandered up to us while we were sunbathing. She was adorable… but painfully skinny, with a fairly large wound on her back. You could tell straight away she wasn’t being cared for.
We’re always told not to feed the stray dogs out there, especially around the apartments… but I couldn’t ignore her. The only thing I had on me was one of my daughter’s Babybel cheeses, and she absolutely wolfed it down. That was it really… I was already attached.
After giving her some water and a few cuddles, I asked around to see where she had come from. There were a few shops nearby, but nowhere she could survive alone. I found out she’d been roaming the complex for a few weeks, playing with residents’ dogs, but she didn’t belong to anyone.
And then everything changed.
One afternoon, I was in the apartment alone, just out of the shower, when I heard the most horrendous noise. I didn’t even know a dog could make a sound like that. I ran out the front door and saw her being thrown across the car park by one of the gardeners.
I just screamed.
She ran straight behind my legs, shaking, while he came after her. I kept saying “no, no, no.” He didn’t speak much English, just kept asking, “is it yours?” I told him it didn’t matter — no dog should ever be treated like that. I took her inside and shut the door.
That was the moment I knew… I couldn’t leave her.
Later that day, the maintenance manager knocked on the door. He tried to explain that stray dogs weren’t allowed on the complex and it was their job to remove them. I knew that wasn’t right. I told him they should be contacting proper services, not handling dogs like that.
In the end, I just said, “she’s mine now.”
And just like that… she was.
Time was against me. I only had three days left of my holiday.
I reached out to an English lady on the island who helps rescue and rehome stray dogs — honestly, my kind of superhero. She checked Babybel over, gave us tick and worm treatment, and said she’d try to find her a home.
But no one came forward.
I was desperate. I couldn’t leave knowing she’d be back out there alone.
So I made the decision… I was bringing her home.
The first step was finding somewhere safe for her to stay while we sorted everything. I even considered missing my flight just to stay with her. But thankfully, a local rescue had a kennel space for dogs preparing to travel.
The relief was unreal. We actually danced around the apartment.
But then reality hit — how was I going to afford this? And how was I going to manage another rescue at home, especially with Marley already being reactive?
None of that mattered. I wasn’t leaving her.
That’s when we finally gave her a name.
Babybel.
Dropping her off at the shelter was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
She was terrified — shaking, crying… even had an accident in the car. I knew she’d be safer there, but it didn’t feel like it in that moment. It felt like I was abandoning her.
I paid for a month’s boarding (around £2–£2.50 a day), put her in her kennel, and walked away.
Then I sat in the car and cried.
The next few months were a waiting game.
She needed vaccinations, to be spayed, microchipped, treated, and her wound had to heal. Then came the rabies vaccine… and after that, a three-month wait before she could travel.
I only got a few updates during that time — the shelter was overwhelmed, caring for nearly 300 dogs — but every photo meant everything to me. She was still so skinny… but she was alive, and she was safe.
The shelter manager handled everything — paperwork, passport, crate, travel prep. I honestly couldn’t have done it without her.
Then came the biggest challenge… getting her home.
She couldn’t fly directly into the UK without huge costs and quarantine, which I didn’t want for her. So the plan was:
Fly to Paris… then drive home.
Terrifying.
But my mum and auntie stepped in — road trip to Paris it was.
When I flew back out to get her, I was so anxious. What if she didn’t remember me?
But the second she saw me… that was it. She knew.
The journey back was stressful. Watching her crate get loaded onto the plane was one of the hardest moments — until I saw the staff gently handling her, even fussing over her. That meant everything.
Hours later, I landed in Paris and rushed to find her.
Those doors opened… and there she was.
Curled up, waiting.
From there, we drove home, stopped for water, toilet breaks, and finally made it back to the UK.
She was safe.
She was home.
Adjusting hasn’t been perfect.
As Babybel gained weight and confidence, her energy exploded — and Marley… well, Marley prefers a quieter life. They’ve had their moments.
Right now, Babybel lives with my mum, where she’s settled beautifully and formed such a strong bond. I see her every day, we walk together, we train together… and one day, we’ll all be under the same roof.
But for now, she’s safe. She’s loved.
And she’s no longer surviving… she’s living.
If you’d like to know more about Babybel’s journey, feel free to reach out. I’m always happy to help.
And if you want to follow along with Marley and Babybel, you can find us over on our socials 🐾🌿
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