Settle in, this is a long backstory. And maybe a tearjerker. It was to write it that’s for sure.
I believe life is a big playing field and that each of us is playing our own life game and also several small games inside the big one, all at once. That being said, you have teammates and opponents, wins, losses and messengers…and if you’re willing to listen and learn from them all, life gets just a bit more intriguing, mysterious and sweet...
That being said…in my ALIGNED story, I shared a lot about my life and some of my teammates, opponents and messengers, but I didn’t share a ton about the dogs that have been a part of my life. And since their contribution has been ENORMOUS, and they’ve all been teachers, team players and messengers, this backstory is reserved for them. And yes, I cried a lot during the writing of this, and at one point I almost had to leave the coffee shop where I was working from because tears were flowing during my writing.
That tells me my dog stories and the accompanying emotions are ready to come out…both for my healing and as a tribute to ALL the dogs that have shared the journey with me.
And while the world is full of people, not all of them are dog people and that’s totally fine. But for those of us that ARE dog people, I feel like there’s a special micro universe of companionship created just for us, so this is a story about that micro universe of being a dog person. But even if you’re not a dog person, I still hope this story touches your heart as well.
Away we go…
The Dalmations
My life with dogs more or less started in 1977, because that’s when I was born and my parents had our first two dogs, named Miss A and May B. They were named after my two Grandmothers, Miss Aldredge and May Bolling and they were both Dalmatians. I was young during my time with them, so I mainly remember the presence of them and the structure and order they brought to our house in terms of walk time, feeding and bedtime. I also loved it when I saw the movie, “101 Dalmatians,” because they looked like my dogs.
Calli
As May B and Miss A’s time was naturally coming to an end, in came Calli, who was a "Liver Dalmatian," meaning she had brown spots rather than black. She was also a show dog, so her fancy name was “Calipades Royal Review,” if I remember correctly. This was the first puppy I had ever experienced and I remember going with my mom to puppy training classes and my mom and I taking Calli to dog shows in Dallas, where I remember stadium like settings, fluorescent lights and it being very loud due to all the barking. I enjoyed playing with Calli in our backyard and remember helping to train her to jump through hula hoops I’d be holding.
And since Calli was a show dog, we bred her, which means she had puppies. To prepare for that experience we got a big wooden open top pen in our playroom by the garage, and we covered the floor of the pen with cedar chips in it and attached a few heat lamps. And then Calli’s belly grew and grew until she gave birth to little rat looking things, that all attached themselves to her nipples. I was in middle school, and loved spending time near the puppy pen and listening to them squeak, it was adorable. And somehow it was decided that we’d be keeping 2 of them, Coachman’s Carolina Lady, aka “Carolina'' who was going to live with my Grandmother May Bolling in North Carolina, and Coachman’s Copper Penny, aka “Penny,” who was mine. Penny didn’t really know she was supposed to be my dog because she mainly stuck with my mom. I did try to have her sleep in my room sometimes, but she’d always whine to go out and be with my mom and her mom Calli.
The Dalmatians moved with us to Utah in 1992, and when it came time for me to go to college, my knowledge of the dogs faded a little bit, but I think I remember Calli and Penny passing away fairly close together, and maybe cancer was involved. Of course my mom would remember, as she was their trusted guardian, but it’s also a tender and emotional topic to bring up, so I don’t. But when they both eventually passed on, our experience with Dalmations came to a close, though we loved visiting Carolina at my grandmother’s house, and she lived a long life.
Moki
Moki was a huge adorable Malamute who was about 6 years old. And though he technically wasn’t my dog, for almost 2 years I felt like he was. Moki lived next door to the Red House, a place that I’ve shared was my safe space and second home after my car accident and brain injury in 1994. Moki’s owner, Craig, slept late and worked at a restaurant from 2pm in the afternoon until sometimes 11 or 12 at night, so Eric, who was Craig's roommate in the blue house and was an electrician and up early, would feed Moki and let him out to pee and poop in the front yard. And then Moki would just sit on the front porch of the blue house on an old sofa with a chain attached to his collar watching the cars on Park Ave zoom by. From my favorite spot on the porch swing of the Red House, I’d sometimes witness Craig coming outside to run errands or leaving for work in the afternoon and Moki would get up off the couch wagging his tail for the little attention he’d receive, and then he’d watch Craig disappear in his truck waiting patiently for him to return. I seldom if ever saw Moki get walked or taken off his chain, and it made me so sad to see this magnificent creature spend so many hours alone tied up.
And so I decided to make a difference for him 1 day and asked Craig if I could take him out for a walk, and Craig said yes. And so my relationship with Moki began, and we walked twice, sometimes three times a day around the neighborhood of Old Town Park City, and it became a ritual we both enjoyed and looked forward to.
When I used to pull up to the Red House in my little green Subaru, Moki used to barely acknowledge my arrival from his spot on the porch. But after 2 weeks of regular walks, when Moki would see me pull up, he’d be up wagging his tail and jumping for joy, which brought me so much happiness as well. I'd been suffering from debilitating loneliness and depression, and those daily walks with Moki by my side gave me such a sense of purpose and contribution to another’s well being. And to witness a dog go from not acknowledging I existed to jumping up and down and howling for me when I pulled up, was everything. I’d been feeling like such a burden to so many people lately, since I’d needed so much extra care and attention since my accident. So to make such a clear positive improvement for another being felt so good.
This was the first time I’d seen such a distinct shift in a dog’s response to me and I loved it. Thanks to Moki my appreciation for a dog’s role in a human’s life grew exponentially.
When I left for college I made sure to stop and say goodbye to Moki, and leaving him made me very sad, mostly because I didn’t know what his days would look like without me walking him. When I returned for my first Christmas break from college, Moki was there to greet me with his wagging tail and I was equally thrilled to see him and we reunited for our walk time, and I chose not to ask any questions about what had happened during my time away.
But when I returned that Spring from school I didn’t see Moki on the porch anymore and I was both sad and curious, so I asked Eric the electrician one morning where he’d gone. He said Moki had become too disruptive, often howling for attention, so Craig had sent him to live on a farm with a relative in another state. And when I heard that news, for some reason I cried, which surprised his owner Craig and me, because I wanted to say goodbye to Moki and thank him for the enormous impact he’d accidentally had on me.
So Moki, if you can hear me, thank you and I loved having you in my life.
Taggart
I think I was a senior in high school when Taggart came into our family, and if I remember correctly, at least one of our Dalmatians was still alive. Taggart was a Chesapeake Bay Retriever, which means she was a golden color and her eyes were a gorgeous Hazel color and her coat was ripply and soft and she always looked like she’d just returned from the salon and had gotten a perm.
I remember her first day with our family clearly because I’d been out on the Weber river kayaking with some friends, and I’d dislocated my right shoulder very badly. And when I walked in the door to my parents' house with my right arm in a sling, having just come from the hospital where they’d had to put my shoulder back in place, I said to my parents, “if you haven’t named her yet, name her Taggart; because that’s the wave that just took me for the ride of my life…” And so it stuck. Welcome Taggart.
From the moment she arrived, Taggart was my mom’s best friend. She was extremely loyal and served as a perfect companion to my mom for at least 15 years, and for that I am forever grateful. I think it was Taggart more than anyone else who helped my mom weather the storm of my dad’s infidelity in 2004, to them divorcing and her having to rebuild a new home and life for herself. Taggart saw my mom through all of it, and when she died after over 15 years by mom’s side, I was also heartbroken, for my mom’s sake. But my mom has an intuitive knowledge of when her dog’s life is coming to an end, so she adopted another dog before Taggart passed, to help ease her pain. One of many things I’ve learned and loved about my mom over the years is her love for dogs. Thanks mom, and thank you Taggart for loving my mom all those years, I could see and feel it until the end.
Sadie
To be very honest, it was hard for me to even type Sadie's name and underline it…that’s how much emotion and pain I still have in me around my sweet Sadie dog. She was my first official dog, and she entered my life in the summer of 1997, when I was 19 years old. I’d just completed my first year of college in upstate New York at Hamilton College, but I left because it wasn’t a good fit for many reasons, so I chose to transfer to the University of Colorado at Boulder, and I wanted a companion for the remainder of my college journey since I was going to be moving into a house and not living in a dorm.
When I told my parents I wanted to get my own dog they were concerned and rightfully so. My mom even spoke up and said she didn’t think I could handle the responsibility that having a dog entailed, but I disagreed with her. I for some reason knew I was ready and trusted I would figure it out along the way. But I had a lot of evidence in my life of the contrary.
Up until that point in my life I’d never really shown much of a love or commitment to anything or anyone, so there was reason for my mother’s words of concern that all of a sudden I wanted to share my life with a dog. And that’s probably why she went along with me to the adoption center in Coalville, Utah, encouraging me to adopt an adult dog and not a puppy, because it would be less work. And that’s where I did heed her advice, because I didn’t want to go through the stage of having my shoes, sunglasses and who knows what else chewed to pieces.
That day at the dog pound I walked the rows of cages looking at each dog slowly and carefully, feeling for a spark of connection between us, something I didn’t even know was possible seeing as how I’d never really had that sort of connection or spark with a person. But still, I looked and hoped for it; and then it happened. The spark. It came from a medium size black and white border collie/blue heeler mix, and she watched me approach her cage and got up from where she was lying and came to the cage door and placed her paw on the door, as if she were reaching for me. I knelt down and looked her in the eye and felt her looking through me, and I looked up at my mom and nodded, “I think this is the one.”
The staff unlocked her cage for me and she came right up against me and nestled herself around me and I felt my entire body soften. I guided her out into the adoption center lobby where I sat down in a low chair and she promptly jumped up and cozied herself in my lap as if to let me know she wasn’t going anywhere without me. I’d never felt this type of connection before, and it seemed as though she was letting me know she was choosing me too. I stroked her head and neck for several minutes and the name Sadie came to me, and that was that; away Sadie and I went to explore our life together.
Yes Sadie was the first dog I’d ever owned, but I was amazed at how naturally owning a dog came to me. It was like we spoke to each other without words, and the first time I tried to walk her on a leash, she sat down and wouldn’t budge, almost like she was saying, “Really mom? Where else would I go other than by your side?” And so I tried walking her without a leash and she was glued by my side. We were in this life together now.
Sadie would often accompany me to classes on the Boulder campus when teachers would allow it, and she’d sit outside coffee shops as I’d order and study inside, and the same with restaurants. As long as she could see me through a window she stayed and waited patiently. Months passed and years passed, and we made it through college, several living arrangements and several boyfriends, and her faith in me and love for me was unwavering. But I couldn’t say the same for my faith in and love for myself.
After college I found myself in Steamboat Springs, Colorado, following both a guy and my parent’s dream for me, which was to work in sales and property management. I thought I’d graduate college with a passion for something and a clear path to somewhere, but that didn’t happen for me, so instead I followed two things I knew how to do well: skiing and kayaking. And because my love interest at the time college ended lived in a town with both, I changed my zip code from Boulder to Steamboat Springs, and Sadie of course came with me. But darkness began to set in on me as I spent more time in an office and less time with Sadie, as she stayed home alone in the backyard of the house I shared with a man named Ben who also had a dog. I’d wake up early and walk and feed her, kiss her goodbye, go to one job, then return home, walk her and leave for my second job, often getting home late and feeding her dinner after 9pm. I hated it and so did she.
Yes, Sadie had a dog companion at home when I’d be at work, but it wasn’t me, and Sadie often acted like she couldn’t be bothered with other dogs, she just wanted her human back by her side. During that time in my life I felt myself growing apart from both myself and Sadie, and it broke my heart because I didn’t feel like I had a choice or a solution. I sensed Sadie’s demeanor begin to shift into displaying more depression, aggression and anxiety, but I was feeling the same way, so I didn’t know how to help her or myself. I felt lost; and like I was floating in an ocean with no clear direction or wind of passion to take me anywhere worth staying. And I wondered how people figured out their passion or what to do next with their life after college if nothing clicked in those 4 years of self study.
I shared in ALIGNED the circumstances that inspired me to first apply to massage school in Steamboat Springs, and how it involved me meeting a girl who worked at the hotel spa where I worked in sales. I also shared the unfortunate circumstances that made me suddenly leave Steamboat behind, to pursue school in Salt Lake City. It was a confusing time in my life, and also very physically and emotionally draining to uproot from Steamboat Springs so quickly and redirect to Salt Lake City for massage school, but who was right by my side during it all? Sadie dog. She didn’t need details, she was just happy to be by my side again most of the day along for whatever ride we were going on.
Sadie and I moved into the apartment connected to my parents house until I figured out another living plan. But I soon learned few landlords wanted to rent to people with dogs, which was a tough reality to accept. So I stayed at my parents' apartment, which in a way, felt like a step backwards.
Here’s what I now know about dogs who are our soulmates…they experience everything we do emotionally and energetically, though they don’t have an explanation for it, or a clear way to process their experience other than play. And we weren't playing much anymore. And sadly, as I learned to stuff away my experience of what had happened to me in Steamboat, and numb my pain with various unhealthy tools, Sadie dog was still feeling all my sadness, pain and confusion, but she didn’t have a way to process it.
Therefore Sadie acted out in ways that weren’t healthy or helpful. She began to be aggressive and lunge at or bite random people when we’d be out on walks or just hanging out around town, so our days of being off leash quickly came to an end. I hadn’t yet developed enough self-reflection and wisdom to connect the dots and realize that Sadie was feeling and responding to my inner world, so instead I got angry with her, making her wrong, and I continued to scold her for her aggressive behavior. But in hindsight I see what she needed was for me to nurture her and lean in with love and play, not meet her where she was with negativity. Sadie was crying out for help and I just couldn’t hear her due to the volume of my own discontent. I had so little love for myself at that time that offering her the little I had felt impossible.
In December of 2001 I got into a car accident driving from Park City to Salt Lake City, and I totaled my Toyota Tacoma truck. I hit black ice coming down the canyon, and hit the center median in my truck, spun out across the road, hitting one other car before coming to a stop on the other side of the road. I was severely traumatized emotionally, and hit my head on the glass on the driver's side of my car, but luckily the man in the other car wasn’t hurt, and his car wasn’t severely damaged, so he came and checked on me as we both were on the side of the road. After that incident, I was terrified of driving so I moved in with a woman in Salt Lake City who was a friend of a friend. She was an ex Olympian and her name was Dena. I slept on the uncomfortable futon in her office, with very few of my things around me, and thankfully she let Sadie come with me. Sadie loved that I spent more time with her because massage school was only 5 minutes away from the room I was renting, and Dena would also take her cross country skiing, so it was awesome.
But fast forward a few months and Dena fell in love with a man who I met on Match.com and went out on 2 dates with. Ironically, when he took me home after our second date, he met Dena at the front door when he walked me to the door, and that was that. They were together, and he and I were not anymore. So after a few weeks they politely asked me to move out, ugh.
So in I moved with Aaron, a man I was casually dating who I’d recently met at Whole Foods, who was not a positive influence for me in any way. Sadie didn’t like Aaron and would growl at him and howl when left alone in his house, and so I began to leave Sadie in my car during massage school, and run out to check on her every hour, and take her out and play ball with her.
It was awful and I felt desperate.
There was a light at the end of the tunnel when massage school ended and my friend Jen moved out of her upstairs dog friendly apartment, and offered it to me. I couldn’t get in soon enough and felt so grateful. It was an amazing space, and Sadie and I seemed to be beginning to rebuild our relationship slowly because I worked nearby and gave massages out of the space as well.
But then things changed again when I got 2 jobs in Park City. One at a fancy spa and the other was my new private office. Sadie wasn’t allowed at either of them and I couldn’t leave her in Salt Lake City all day, so back she went to my parents house to spend her days when I was in Park City. I bounced around from working at a chiropractor’s office in Salt Lake City, to the day spa in Park City and at my private office, and life was hectic and busy, and it often felt like Sadie was something I needed to do something with, rather than my loving companion who I wanted to care for and accommodate. Once again we were growing apart and I could feel Sadie’s tolerance for our circumstances beginning to dissolve, and she showed me where she was at with aggression.
Cooper
In other news around that time, I began to date a wonderful new man and he had a Rhodegian Ridgeback named Cooper. Sadie and I would frequently have sleepovers, which Sadie hated because she couldn’t figure out where to sleep or eat, or who’s territory was who’s, so as I got more comfortable and connected in my relationship with Alex, Sadie got less attached to me.
And despite keeping Sadie on a leash and being very mindful of her when we were out together, after the third time she lunged and nipped at someone innocent, like the UPS man, my parents sat me down and said Sadie was too much of a liability for them and for me, and she wasn’t welcome at their house anymore if I wasn’t there, and Alex said the same. They also said that if anyone reported that they’d been bitten by her AGAIN, I could be sued AND she’d be immediately put down, which were both awful scenarios.
My sister had also just had a baby and she was around my parents house a lot with him, so everyone was fearful that Sadie might lash out and accidentally hurt my new nephew, and maybe I was a little afraid too. Although I wanted to believe she’d never be capable of that, I couldn't guarantee Sadie’s demeanor anymore, so the best way I can describe what happened is that I gave up on her and decided her life was over.
I'd listened to my parents and our vet's recommendation that if I loved her, I’d end her life before she hurt someone. An adoption center wouldn't take Sadie because she was labeled as high risk with two bite complaints, so I was in an impossible situation. It still pains me to admit that I agreed and chose to put Sadie dog to sleep after our 6 years together; which means she was about 8 years old at the time. But what’s even worse is how I handled it. I was in so much pain and distress over my decision, that I couldn't take her to the clinic myself where they’d do the injection. Thinking they were helping me with my impossible decision, the dog catcher offerred to come and pick Sadie up from my parents house and take her to my vet for the procedure. So I said yes. And as I watched the dog catcher place my confused and shaking Sadie dog into the back of his white truck, I remember standing at the top of the steep driveway, my knees shaking and I began screaming for him to stop, but he couldn't hear me. I then ran down the driveway chasing the truck, all the way to the end of the next street.
The driver of the truck finally saw me and stopped and got out and let me open the back of his truck and give Sadie another long hug, apologizing to her over and over again. I sobbed and the dog catcher just patted me on the shoulder and said I was doing the right thing. But I also knew Sadie was acting out because of me, so it was all my fault and I knew it. I managed to pull myself together enough to close the back of the truck where Sadie was, scratch her nose a last time through the cage and wave goodbye. And I watched that truck carry my best friend of six years farther and farther away from me, until I couldn't see the truck anymore. My heart was officially broken and that truck was carrying away a piece of my heart I'd never get back…
My mom went to pick up Sadie’s ashes the next day and brought them home and gave them to me, and I remember not being able to feel anything. It was like I was blocked. There I was with a cute little box with her paw print on it. And sure my life went on, but without Sadie, so I felt an enormous hole.
I shut down emotionally a lot after that experience and I numbed myself with drugs, alcohol, exercise and work, and found myself the most alone I’d ever felt in my life, but here I was with a great boyfriend and I was just beginning my path as a healer, which was the most ironic part of my self-healing journey. I was supposed to be happy because I had so much going for me...but happiness felt out of reach for me, sadness was all I felt.
My boyfriend Alex saw how much pain I was in and invited me to move in with him, Cooper and his 3 roommates, and also offered to get me a puppy. And I was so desperate for any sense of a happy ending that I said yes to it all, and also said yes when he proposed to me a few months later.
A house, a puppy and a ring on my ringer...that was happy, right?
Scout
The puppy that Alex ended up getting me to replace Sadie was Scout, a RedBone/Bluetick Hound mix and she was so incredibly cute. We got her at 6 weeks old and I’d walk her around the block without a leash and was convinced I had another Sadie who would stay right by my side. That is until Scout's legs got longer and she caught a whiff of something, and off she’d run, forgetting that she had an owner, a home or that she even had a name to respond to...
We had Scout's name on her collar, so the few times I took her off the leash and she’d disappear, we’d get a call hours later or sometimes the next day or two, that Scout had appeared somewhere in someone's yard, usually up on a nearby mountain, and we’d go get her. She seemed more annoyed than excited when we'd pick her up to come home, and didn’t seem to care about me or that we had a relationship or companionship. She was a hound dog who just wanted to follow whatever caught her nose.
When my relationship with Alex came to an end in January of 2004, so did my relationship with Scout, because I let Alex keep her. The house where I was moving into didn’t allow dogs, so it made more sense for her to stay with Alex at the time. I found out a year later that he’d re-homed her after getting a new girlfriend who eventually became his wife, so rehoming Scout was appropriate. I hoped Scout found a very patient owner and many rolling hills and mountains to run up after that. Sorry I couldn’t be there for you Scout (or Alex).
Zona
After 3 years of making my complete focus on growing Align Spa, and giving it all my heart-centered energy, I realized I was ready to share my heart with another dog. And as quickly and surely as Sadie came into my life, in came the Zona dog, and this time I started with her as a puppy. Zona got plenty of attention and trail time with the boyfriend I was living with at the time, which I was so grateful for. So that meant Zona was too tired at the end of the day to chew anything, and she was too focused running at top speed on the trails to worry about the dynamics with other dogs she passed by so she became part human. Zona grew to be a dog who loved to run and play, but also loved it when I’d take her to Align Spa, where she quickly learned the energy there and how to be calm. Her job was to greet guests, allow them to scratch her head and butt, and then go back to lounging and protecting the spa space. She even had a "Z" on her chest, which I didn't realize until she posed for me, showing it.
Zona’s focus was to work hard, play hard and chill hard, so for 8 years that’s what we did together, and she too stayed faithfully by my side as I navigated different relationships and living arrangements throughout Park City and Salt Lake City. Everyone loved Zona because Zona loved everyone, except for those who entered the spa to ask for directions or ask for change for the laundromat next door. She could sense the difference in the energy of people coming in the door and always knew who was a guest with an appointment or a desire for an appointment, and who had another agenda. She’d bristle at those with other agendas, and we’d repeatedly let her know to be kind to everyone, because that’s a lesson we’re all learning in this life.
Years passed for Zona and I and once again my life took another change in December of 2012, and that change’s name was Adam. Adam was unlike anyone I’d ever met, except he too was a dog person, so that helped me trust him instantly, and he had 3 dogs at the time we met. I was on a yoga retreat in Costa Rica at the time we crossed paths, kicking off a 5 month self-discovery hiatus from my spa in order to go seeking who I was outside of work, and on day 4 of my retreat I saw Adam’s flier for healing services in my hotel lobby and I booked an appointment with him to help me navigate some new life turns. I’d just broken up with a great guy in Utah, who I believed was 90% awesome for me, and in most cases 90% would be amazing, but for me. But my desire to explore that missing 10% kept me up at night and kept me disconnected just enough from this other man that I knew it wasn’t right for me to continue with him.
It wasn’t right because I needed to be open to finding Adam.
What happened with Adam was fast and easy, much like how I came to my dogs and my business. After 2 months Adam proposed to me, and so began the journey of figuring out how to thrive in both Costa Rica and Utah, and decide where I wanted to call home. To me home was where my dog and business were, but here in Costa Rica with Adam I’d felt the most at home I had in my life, so there was a lot to decide. But I did my best to not let my head get in the way of my heart, and I did some simple math to help my decision. Adam had 3 dogs in Costa Rica and I had 1 dog in Utah, so if I wanted a future with Adam I needed to combine our home of dogs, so that meant me moving to Costa Rica with Zona. Holy shit. Was that even allowed? To live in another country then my family & business? I figured I’d been more or less writing my own rule book for a long time, so in June 2013 I put Zona dog in a dog crate gorgeously hand-painted by Adam, and she boarded the plane with the destination being Costa Rica, and once again, away we went on another adventure together.
Pack Life
When Zona moved in with us in Costa Rica she handled it well, but was also in shock. Being the single dog of a single girl is WAY different than being part of.a pack in a ski town.
Zona met the Oracle (smallest in the middle) , Mr Bone (on the left) and Daisy Chi Chi (on the right), and she went from being a single child to being part of a pack and having a mom who was in love, a world far different than anything she’d known thus far. This world didn’t have snow, and had an ocean, so she was experiencing newness at every turn and handling it like a champ. Zona gave up tennis balls and opted for coconuts, and she’d play a game on our walks where if I was tired of throwing the coconut for her, she’d take the coconut and drop it at the feet of the next person we saw, and she’d stare at them intently with her adorable brown eyes until they threw it for her. “Just throw it once and she’ll leave you alone” became my most common phrase along our walks, and it allowed Zona to engage with people in a similar way as she did at the spa, with light hearted play, while still protecting me.
Zona had changed herself to become a beach dog and share in the energy of being part of a pack, as I was changing myself to share in the energy of a loving committed relationship, so we were both transforming ourselves and redefining a new life. I needed to learn to love bigger and deeper, because there were more beings needing my love, while I still needed to let Zona know how deeply I still loved and honored her and our relationship. It was a lot to balance, but I was up for it. Then I had a dream around March 2016 that Zona dog had passed on, and it woke me out of my sleep and I went to sit with her in the dark to make sure she was safe, happy and healthy. And she was, which was what was so perplexing; she was the healthiest she’d ever been, though she had hardly any teeth left from eating so many tennis calls, coconuts and papayas.
When the dream came a second time I began to reflect on its meaning, and I felt an immense gratitude for all the support Zona had given me over the years when it was just she and I wandering the world together. But now, I was part of a pack and so was she, so her role as my companion and guardian was less defined and maybe less needed, and now we were just holding space for each other in family form, and exploring a life rooted in joy and love, and she didn’t need to protect me from anything or anyone anymore. Was she ready to release me and move on to her next healing project? I hated that thought, and I’d dismiss it quickly when it came. But it seemed the Universe was preparing me for that exact scenario because Zona left this earth suddenly and unexpectedly in the early hours of April 22nd, 2016 on the full moon called the “Dog Moon.” Well played Zona.
And boy did her departure hit me HARD. My mom came out to see me because she knew how much I loved Zona, and I ended up going into a tailspin of processing emotions I didn’t even know I had in me. Old grief, old anger, old discontent...it was like everything that was in the way of joy and love was coming unearthed and up for remembering, and there I was physically digging my best friend's grave after she died, something I'd never done before. The unearthing helped me finally be able to cry about what happened in 2002 with Sadie, which was difficult, but also a relief. I also got to come face to face with what felt like every emotion I’d ever run from by staying so busy and working all the time in Utah. These experiences and emotions were demanding to be felt fully, and I couldn’t run anymore.
Yes this was scary and uncomfortable, but this time, I had the space, time, tools, emotional support and willingness to feel it all, in order to heal it all. Because the only path out of darkness and shadows is to trudge through it. You can only numb or turn your back from pain for so long before it snaps back at you somehow, or gets accidentally projected onto someone else, which is also a common avenue I see people taking, and have done so myself. So how does one feel and heal their stuff?
I imagine it’s different for everyone, but for me it came through stillness, crying, talking about it, exploring meditation, writing, yoga and using crystals. And moving furniture around.
I found the more time I took to consciously shape my environment and take time to go inward and fill the space with love and intention, the more my emotions allowed me to see them and experience them, but without the fear. It’s only the unfamiliar that’s scary, so once I dove into my emotional world with love and swam around, I saw that ALL emotions want to and deserve to be felt, and often we’re just seeking the positive ones thinking that’s where the happiness is. But I’m here to tell you there’s peace and happiness in feeling it all and embracing it all as part of this crazy journey we’re all on called life.
So what did Zona teach me in her abrupt unexpected departure? She taught me that my heart is way bigger than I ever knew, that I have the capacity to love and be loved enormously, that there’s spirit and healing in quiet and stillness and that I’d be a wonderful mother.
I know she's watching and has enjoyed seeing our family grow. She would have loved Aurora and Ariel.
Expanding our Pack
I know I wrote so much about Sadie and Zona, and that's because I was single and they were my world. My world is bigger now, and it includes our pack leader Adam, and two amazing girls, Aurora and Ariel. Pack life with a dog is different than single life with 1 dog, so my lessons from dogs are still happening, but have shifted over the years.
I'm more of a pack leader than an every day companion where they come everywhere with me, as Sadie and Zona did.
And I struggled with Zona's departure, and didn't feel like myself for a long time. Five months after she passed away Adam and I did Ayahuasca in Colombia, and one of my main goals was to ask the Shaman to help me more fully and peacefully process Zona’s unexpected departure. I knew I also still had stuff from Sadie to feel as well. I still missed Zona so much and cried a lot and my pain felt disruptive, but not in a helpful way. And so I turned to plant medicine to help me.
Our Ayahuasca experience is for another backstory, but what I wanted to share about that trip, is that one of the couples we shared a room with said they fostered dogs in Jaco; and the next month I saw her post a picture on Facebook of a scrawny three month old orange dog, saying she was so sweet and needed a home. I was IN. A few days later they brought us Ruby.
The next month a chubby black lab kept coming over, and since we knew where she lived, we asked her owners if we could keep her, and they said yes. And that’s how Reba entered our family.
Next came Jerry, who would follow us home from the beach and camp out in the rain outside our gate and howl until we let him in and fed him. We just kept doing that so he stayed (still looking for his pic).
The next arrival was baby Aurora, and then 3 months later came Estrella puppy, who lived in the neighborhood behind us. Estrella is an escape artist despite knowing how good she has it with us, so she stays on a leash,
A few years later came Zoe, an 8 year old girl with health challenges, whose family was giving her away because their daughter became allergic to her. She had been an only dog, so her adjustment to our pack was challenging, and she sometimes get picked on, but we've done our best to protect her, let her know she's valued and we nursed her back to health. She’s still one of our elders.
Last but not least Goofy has entered our family June 25th, 2023. We needed a male after Mr. Bone passed away, so we went to Halfway Home and there he was. Goofy is the spitting image of Jerry, who passed away in 2019. They even both have a heart on their butt. And Goofy is so affectionate and won't leave my side, so perhaps he was send by Sadie & Zona, who I'm sure are having a blast together up in the sky.
Caring for dogs has been a lifelong journey that has taught me so many things, but mostly how to love. We lost Mr. Bone on March 13th, 2020 and he died in my arms in the car on the way to the vet to seek help. To have a dog die in my arms while we're in distress trying to save him was a first for me. But every time we see a Dragonfly, i feel him, and Aurora says, "it's Mr. B!" so I know he is around.
As you can see, I've had lots big life experiences with dogs and each dog seems to come with its own bag of lessons for me. Almost like each one in our pack of 6 represents a different expression of me. It's quite funny.
So this is a thank you to all the dogs I’ve known and crossed paths with, especially my Sadie and Zona, because thanks to you both I’ve experienced more love in this life, both in companionship and emotional depth than I ever knew possible, and that’s what both marriage and motherhood is about. At least for me.
As I said at the beginning of this story, life is a playing field and everyone is a messenger if you’re willing to listen and take in how to play your game better.
My dogs are my teachers, companions and messengers and I will continue to listen.
And I know they’re ALL watching me now and protecting me in their own ways, sending what guidance & helpful messages they think I’ll be open and available enough to recognize and respond to. But I look up and talk to each of them sometimes, and feel grateful they’re all helping me navigate my life’s path.
I've talked about the Rainbow Bridge with both my girls...the place where dogs go after they die and get to meet up with all their dog friends and favorite people...my daughters love the idea of the Rainbow Bridge, and so do I.
Thank you to my dogs for inspiring me to write this love note to them.
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