Why I Don’t Talk Politics in Bosnia and Herzegovina

In this episode, I’d like to take you with me down a quiet country track here in Northern Bosnia and Herzegovina. At the end of that track lies the Sunny Shelter, home to nearly 200 dogs, many of whom would otherwise have been forgotten.

You’ll meet Mei Sawanoi, a Finnish woman who made the extraordinary decision to leave her life in Finland behind and move here permanently to care for these animals alongside her husband, Dražen.

You’ll also hear from Elin, one of the dedicated Finnish volunteers who travels at her own expense to spend time helping at the shelter. And behind the scenes, you’ll learn about Päivi Sillankorva, the co-founder who continues to keep everything running from Finland through fundraising and adoptions.

This is a story of compassion, resilience, and the kind of quiet determination that changes lives, not just for the dogs, but for the people who care for them too.

So settle in as I introduce you to the remarkable world of Sunny Shelter and the network known as Balkan Dogs.

A Quiet Track, A Loud Mission

There’s a rutted track winding through trees and farmland in Northern Bosnia, not marked on any map, unheralded, but at its end lies something extraordinary: Sunny Shelter, part of the Balkan Dogs network.

The video we just shared takes you there, and in retrospective reflection, I’m still struck by the contrast between the rural calm and the barking, tails-wagging chaos that greets you inside the gates.

Balkan Dogs: From Finland to Bosnia

Balkan Dogs is a Finnish-registered nonprofit founded in spring 2015 by Päivi Sillankorva and Mei Sawanoi, entirely powered by volunteers and donations. Their mission spans Kosovo and northern Bosnia, improving living conditions for stray dogs, whether providing basic needs like food and vaccines or supporting local shelters, both municipal and private.

In Bosnia, the organisation also backs a municipal facility in Preslica, near Doboj,, which had a poor reputation until a new manager began improving conditions .

The Daily Reality at Sunny Shelter

Sunny Shelter is not run from afar. Mei made the life-changing move to Bosnia in 2019, feeding, sorting, driving to Banja Luka or Gradiška for vet visits, and largely living there around the clock. Together, Mei and her husband Dražen tend to almost 200 dogs, several born in the shelter and others rescued from municipal pens or abandoned by owners.

Back in Finland, Päivi organises fundraising, food drives, vet bills, and adoptions. The two-part operation, one driving hands-on care, the other ensuring resources, makes Sunny Shelter possible. Volunteers join Mei and Dražen for weeks at a time, continuing that chain of in-person support I found so moving in the quarantine building.

Beyond Bosnia: Regional Struggles, Shared Missions

What’s happening at Sunny Shelter exists within a broader context. Across the Balkans, stray dogs often face neglect or cruelty, locked in dirty cages, starved, or worse. In Kosovo especially, dog cruelty remains widespread, despite laws to the contrary .

Why Sunny Shelter Matters

Sunny Shelter isn’t just another sanctuary, it’s a lifeline. Here, dogs are allowed to rally, to form packs, to run in open yards. They’re vaccinated, rehabilitated, sometimes shipped across Europe to Finland, where many find homes. The effort to get 93 dogs re-homed in Finland in 2024 is no small feat.

But beyond the numbers, what stays with me is the humanity in the shelter. Mei’s calm dedication after adopting one dog from Serbia more than a decade ago turned into a full-fledged mission: “I could live here,” she told her supporters. So she did. And that simple act, one person moving across countries, building a sanctuary, echoes through the lives of hundreds of dogs.