Category: Juno

Life Without a Dog

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Life without a dog…

It’s freakin’ weird.

It’s quieter, but not peaceful.
Cleaner, but not comfortable.
Freer, but not full.

It’s been six months and I’m still learning out how to move through days that don’t start with a morning howl or end with an I wuv you.

The ache shows up in strange moments—
a phantom weight curled at my feet,
a routine I still reach for,
a face I search for in the rearview,
a reach for a name that no longer runs ahead,
a muse that’s no longer there,
a love with no place to land…

Living with the question that always lingered but was never meant to be answered, “What would I do without you?”

People say time helps.
Maybe.
But it also teaches how to live with the missing.
How to carry it.
How to smile through the sting.

Eventually, new rhythms form.
Different ones.
Because life continues, and you move with it.
And somehow, almost magically, you see them in all the beauty they once taught you to see.
And slowly, life reshapes itself around the love that never left… and never will.

And maybe one day, when the time feels right, that love can be shared again.

Because life without a dog just ain’t the same.

Goodbye My Sweet Juno

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On a quiet snow-draped winter day of January, I took my sweet Juno for her final walk.

The trees were cloaked in snow, the landscape blanketed in white. A perfect reflection of her arctic soul. I had always hoped she would leave in such a setting, one that mirrored her wild, beautiful spirit.

When I came across Juno’s story on Kijiji, I knew that our lives were meant to intertwine for the years ahead. Born in the snow in Nunavut, her story deeply moved me. She deserved a life that honoured her northern lineage. In the years that followed, she had the space to unleash her wild, lone spirit. Together, we shared our time in nature, the place that truly felt like home to us both. In the end, I’m not sure who saved or shaped whom.

16 years of loving, roaming, being…

She lived a life worthy of the Coast Mountains, covering the map of our region and beyond. Her paws left prints in places where humans rarely tread.

Together, we distilled life down to its essentials: wildness, freedom, stillness, companionship. With her, life made sense. Neither of us was ever truly alone again.

That unique friendship was enough to be happy. We argued often, and her love was something I had to earn. And that’s what made our relationship so special. The bond we built over the years is indescribable, perhaps only felt.

We were different species, yet spoke a language all our own, built on gestures, loving glances, “I wuv yous”, and the quiet understanding that deepened over the years. We became one in a way only she and I could understand.

A fragile shield, yet strengthened in ways I never imagined–that’s what life with Juno made of me.

In the warmth of our home and the embrace of my love, Juno peacefully went to sleep. Outside the window, a storm rolled in. Big flakes of snow fell softly. I whispered to her, “It’s snowing, Juno. It’s ok to let go now.”

I’m not sure where the good dogs go. But I like to believe in holding on to what brings peace. I trust she will rest peacefully in my heart and memories, forever a part of me and all the beauty I see.

A wildly beautiful existence. Our story.

Goodbye my sweet Juno. I will always wuv you 🖤🐺

The Lasts With an Old Dog

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You can prepare for the firsts with a puppy. But nothing can truly prepare you for the lasts with an old dog…

The last hike to the mountaintop
The last night under the stars
The last time chasing birds on the beach
The last woodsy hide and seek
The last “catch me if you can”
The last hole dug in the sand
The last watch on the boat
The last breeze ruffling the ears out the car window
The last roll in fresh fallen snow
The last warmth of the sun on the muzzle
The last Christmas
The last meal
The last howl
The last “I wuv you”
The last goodbye…

And when your heart feels the weight of it all, you get a wave of emotions flushing through. All those moments that happened from the firsts to the lasts. Those magical in-betweens. Those everlasting memories to hold on to.

How lucky are we to love and be loved in a way that makes goodbye so impossibly hard 🖤

Will You Tell Me, Juno…

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When the years you’ve carried start to weigh and slow,
When your bones grow weary and your steps turn small,
Will you whisper to me when it’s time to heed the call?

When your sight grows dim and your hearing wanes,
When the scents you’ve chased drift out of reach,
And the things you love stop making sense,
Will you let me know when it’s time for peace?

As we meet the days at your gentle pace,
Filling up on those last moments we still get to share,
Will you show me when you’ve lived your full life,
And when you’re ready for your last walk?

I’ll take you to where the good dogs go,
Perhaps a place where it always snows.
I’ll unleash you one last time and set your old body free,
Holding a lifetime of you forever in my memory.

Will you tell me, Juno, when it’s time to go?

15 Years of Sharing Time With You

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In the gentle shuffle of her paws and the affectionate gaze of her loving eyes, I notice the subtle shifts time has brought… Streaks of white upon her face. Wisps of clouds in her eyes. The soft dimming of her hearing. A measured pace. A slight hesitation to climb up the steps (although she still refuses any help).

Yet, amid the graceful embrace of aging, she clings on to her sense of wonder. Ever eager to explore new places, curious to sniff novel scents, and more frequently now, her gaze drifting into the distance.

As we navigate the passage of time together, she reminds me that its flow is inevitable yet beautiful. And so, we’ll keep soaking up the little things. Slowly. Lovingly. Comfortably.

Happy 15th birthday, Juno. 💕

Happiness is Watching You Be

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It’s hard to articulate the love that swells within me whenever I fix my gaze upon her – the wisdom she radiates through her golden years, the lasting playfulness she holds onto, the insatiable curiosity for nature, her sweetness softening the edges of her wild spirit, her ability to find pleasure in life’s small wonders…

I don’t know how many more summers we’ll have together. Or seasons. Or time. But as long as our physical lives are entwined, I’ll be sharing my time with her, somewhere amidst nature, happily watching her be.

14 Years of Loving You

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As I watch my own youth slip through the years, I see her change, too… whiter, wiser, sweeter, wittier. She doesn’t take sh*t from anyone. She’s her own soul. She’s a Queen.

Though she insists she will live forever, I notice the slower, gentler pace of life settling into her old bones. I follow her pace and watch her be, the old lady she’s turning to be. Smelling everything and nothing. Running everywhere and nowhere. Those moments filled with beauty. Nature. Silence. Her. I wonder if she feels that, too. All those things she taught me to feel.

In the white muzzle and the bluing eyes of my old dog I see the beauty of a life well-lived. I hope she’s happy, as happy as a dog can be. I know I am, happy and incredibly lucky to have the chance to pass the time with an old dog. My old dog. My Juno. My favourite time of the day.

Happy 14th First Snowfall, Juno!

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There’s a quote from SJ Seward that goes something like, “Blessed is the person who has earned the love of an old dog”. This couldn’t be more true. Juno’s love was earned. And year after year, as her face start to blend so beautifully in her favourite element, she reminds me how of a true privilege it is to love, and to be loved, by an old dog.

If I Could Frame Our Story as a Snowflake in My Heart, I’d Frost It with Infinity—So We Would Never Part

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If I could frame our story as a snowflake in my heart, I’d frost it with infinity—so we would never part.
— Angie Frosty (Okay, it’s Crosby, but this felt fitting.)

Life has changed a lot since Lady’s passing. I’ve been readjusting my routine, my ways of doing things. Juno knows her friend is missing. We were the Three Whisketeers, writing a new chapter of our adventure novel each day. And now, a big part of who we were has suddenly turned to furry dust.

But dogs have this quiet wisdom—they remind us that life flows. Because that’s what it does. It has to.

So I’m learning to move forward. Maybe it’s because my love and attention are now fully poured into Juno, but she seems to glow more than ever—her enthusiasm, her energy, her affection. As she ages, her northern coat fading to match her favorite season, she teaches me again and again that home is wherever she’s outside, in the snow. That soft, cold, diamond dust that blankets our world for only a few fleeting months each year.

So that’s what we’ll do. We’ll spend as much time at home as we can. Because home—among all the snowflakes—is wherever I’m with her. 🤍