When Emily Everett-Nelson arrived at a Lake Elsinore animal shelter expecting to walk dogs in 2018, she was shown a list of animals scheduled to be euthanized that day.

“They were like, ‘OK, these are the dogs, and these are the ones that are gonna be euthanized today,’” she recalled. “I was like, ‘Wait what? What did you say?’ I was dumbfounded.”
Now she runs Atlas Animal Rescue, a Paso Robles-based nonprofit Everett-Nelson founded five years ago to save dogs from overcrowded and high-kill shelters across California and at times overseas.

That day in Lake Elsinore, she said she expected to see aggressive or sickly dogs. Instead, she found “totally normal, happy-go-lucky young dogs, older dogs, puppies.” The shelter was simply too full.
Shocked and determined, Everett-Nelson started snapping photos and posting online, begging for adopters. By the end of the day, every dog bound for euthanasia found a home, except a husky named Bolt.
“I ended up adopting him,” she said. “I was like, ‘I’m not gonna let this dog die.’”
The experience led her to start the animal rescue, which she now runs from her Paso Robles home alongside her husband, Jessy, and their five rescue pups, Indy, Kenny, Albus, Bolt, and Wiley.
Before founding Atlas in 2020, Everett-Nelson spent time as her husband’s caregiver after he was paralyzed in a motocross crash nearly a decade ago. As he became more independent, she began looking for ways to volunteer locally, which eventually led her to animal rescue work.
“People started contacting us, like, ‘Our shelter is full, we’re going to euthanize these dogs,’” she said. “So I’d go to that shelter, post them, make videos, get them adopted, and then go to the next one.”
The push to formalize her efforts came after a 2019 trip to Harbin, China, where she volunteered at Slaughterhouse Survivors Animal Rescue, a shelter founded by three women who had moved there to teach English and ended up saving dogs from the meat trade.
“I went to China for about two weeks and volunteered for them, and my mind was just completely made up,” she said. “I was like, ‘I need to do this, I need to help dogs.’”
When she returned to California, Everett-Nelson began laying the groundwork for Atlas. After she launched the organization, it quickly expanded beyond state lines.
Atlas’ first official rescue came shortly after its founding. With the help of Slaughterhouse Survivors, a group of 10 dogs were flown from overseas to Los Angeles International Airport. Everett-Nelson met them at the airport, navigating customs and import paperwork before the dogs were released.
“It was chaotic. So much paperwork, so much pressure,” she said. “If one thing was wrong, they could have been sent back. But once those crates opened, it was all worth it.”
Many of the dogs met their new families right outside the airport. “They’d been on a flight for hours, and some of them had been through hell,” she said. “But as soon as they were free, they went straight to their families. It was beautiful.”
That day marked the start of Atlas’ journey of both international and local rescues.
“The reason why we’re called Atlas is because we help internationally,” she explained. “We had dogs coming from China off the meat trade. We help tons of local dogs. We were rescuing dogs from other countries.”
Since the pandemic made international rescues a bit more challenging, Atlas has focused primarily on California’s overcrowded shelters, where the need remains urgent.
“For the most part, we rescue dogs that are going to be euthanized from kill shelters,” she said. “We rescue a lot from LA, Riverside, the Valley—all over.”
Atlas doesn’t have a physical facility. Instead, all rescue dogs are placed in foster homes, which Emily carefully screens before placement.
“Each dog gets rehabilitated, whether that be with training or extensive medical processes,” she explained. “All of our dogs get blood work and all different types of testing to make sure that the adopters have the clearest transparency in what they’re getting.”
Atlas operates entirely on donations and volunteer support, with fosters serving as what Everett-Nelson calls the “lifeblood” of the rescue.
“Anyone in the community who wants to get involved, whether by fostering, donating, or volunteering, can reach out,” she said. “It truly saves lives.”
Everett-Nelson said she hopes to expand Atlas in the near future and is currently searching for property in northern San Luis Obispo County where the nonprofit can build a sanctuary.
“We’d love to have land where we can build a sanctuary space,” she said. “Somewhere the dogs can decompress and get training before adoption. Somewhere we can bring the community in for events and education.”
She envisions shaded play yards, space for socialization, and a medical room for basic care and rehabilitation.
“We’ve grown so much,” she said. “It’s time for the next step.”
When she looks back at how it all began—one shelter visit, one husky, one desperate plea—it all feels surreal.
“When you go somewhere and you see people dedicating their entire life and their entire being into saving animals, … it was just kind of like this switch went off in my brain,” she said. “I was like, ‘Oh my gosh, these animals are suffering to such an extent everywhere. We have to do something to actively help.’”
She paused, thinking about Bolt, the dog who started it all.
“It’s been chaotic,” she said with a laugh. “But it’s been fun.” ∆
Reach New Times contributor Chloë Hodge at chodge@newtimesslo.com.
This article appears in Pets 2025.





