Life is Better with a Dog: A Journey from Loss to New Beginnings

If you're following us on socials, you might know that we've had two major dog "life events" in the last few weeks. We lost our beloved Jax in late May, and a few weeks later, we unexpectedly adopted a new dog.

The Impact of Dog Companionship

We've had a dog since November 2005. Before that time, I always had a dog in my childhood home. Other than college and about a year following, I have had a canine sidekick—or two. I didn't realize just how much having a dog made me feel whole and normal. It's not that I took my dogs for granted; it's just that they were always there. Nothing prepares you for losing a dog, and those who have been through it know the pain is unlike anything else.

When we lost Lola in 2019, Jax became our sole dog. Honestly, we think he loved being in the spotlight. He was always my shadow and enjoyed being my ONLY shadow. Jax was there for many significant moments in our lives. He attended our wedding and welcomed our daughter home. He endured the strangeness of the pandemic and was by my side through countless miles as a younger dog. He loved to camp, hike, follow me around the house, and eat things he shouldn't.

A Good Year for Jax

The last year of Jax's life was good. For a dog pushing 15 years, saying it was great would be a stretch. However, we tried to keep him as comfortable as possible using medications, injections, and lifestyle changes to manage his arthritis. Every pet owner who has had to make a quality-of-life decision for end-of-life care knows how horrible those last few months can be. You constantly ask, "Is he happy?" and "Are we managing his pain?" You wonder, "When was the last time I remember him wagging his tail?"

Jax lived for Summer trips to Beaver Island, Michigan. (So do we.)

It's the realization that your heart will be shattered, yet knowing it's an ultimate act of love to free an elderly or sick dog from ongoing pain. WE control the timing. We enter these contracts to become best friends with dogs, knowing we outlive them. Yet, we do it anyway because life is simply better with a dog.

Saying Goodbye to Jax

Saying goodbye to Jax was as hard as we imagined it would be. We had Lap of Love, an in-home veterinary hospice and end-of-life service, come to our house to help him. Our nine-year-old daughter insisted she wanted to be there. She said defiantly, "Mom, he has been there for me my whole life. I need to be there for him when he dies." There are moments in parenthood that make you proud—this was one of them. We consulted her teacher and the hospice vets at Lap of Love to confirm she was emotionally ready. They reassured us it would help us all process the event and be good for Jax.

Jax ate everything and anything he wanted on that last morning: bacon, eggs, candy, and even my earplugs. (I sleep with earplugs and he was notorious for eating them when I wasn't looking. Ear wax snack!) So, that morning, I let him indulge. I swear he looked at me as if to say, "Are you serious, Mom?" About 30 seconds before he slipped away, our daughter gave him a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup. We held him and cried as he drifted off to sleep. It was awful, peaceful, beautiful, and horrendous all at once. But he was no longer in pain. The hospice vet from Lap of Love was incredible and treated our daughter with kindness and empathy.

The Days Following Your Loss

The days following a loss feel surreal. Your heartache is profound, and the changes in routine and daily life are disorienting. The first morning after, my daughter and I woke up early, not knowing what to do. Our routine was to take Jax for his morning walk. Although those walks had grown shorter in recent months, staying inside felt wrong. So, we ventured out. It felt VERY weird.

A wonderful client sent over flowers, and while chatting, I mentioned that "just going for a walk" without a dog felt awkward. Usually, we walked to a destination—like the grocery store or library—or had Jax (or another dog) beside us. Going for a walk because we were restless was something we hadn't done before. While I run 3-4 times a week, aimless walks were uncharted territory for us. We know the benefits of movement, both mentally and physically. But walks are better with dogs, full stop.

Everything felt strange. The physical space changes in our home after each loss are deeply felt. When we lost Max, his absence was palpable, even with Lola present. After losing Lola, Jax's void was just as significant. Then, when Jax was gone, the emptiness became even more tangible. I felt anxious when alone for the first time, not out of fear, but because it felt fundamentally wrong. The silence was eerie and unfamiliar.

He was at the ER vet for 48 hours on fluids and oxygen.

Finding Comfort in New Beginnings

With emotions swirling, when Street Tails Animal Rescue mentioned a sick puppy named Stretch Armstrong who required hospitalization for pneumonia, we figured someone would volunteer to foster. Although Stretch was recovering, he was undeniably cute. The next day, we learned they received no foster applications, and Stretch couldn't return to the shelter due to his contagious condition and compromised immune system. They were in desperate need of a dog-free household for him to heal. I thought to myself, "My home is dog-free, and my heart can care for another dog." Initially, we agreed not to adopt again until August, but we could foster him for a few weeks.

As you might guess, we fell in love with Stretch. We renamed him Tui, after a common bird in New Zealand, where my husband is from. Less than 48 hours later, we contacted STAR to express our intent to adopt him. Given our experience with dogs, we could tell he was a keeper. One does not pass on a dog like this. We're deep into potty training, keeping a watchful eye on him, and our house is littered with chew toys. It's perfect.

The Joy of Unexpected Love

While we can’t pinpoint Tui's exact breed, folks keep calling him Scooby-Doo. We think he’s a beautiful mix:

• 25% puppy dog eyes and velvet ears

• 25% chews on everything in sight

• 25% loves to nap on top of us

• 25% good boy

  
  

Everyone grieves on their own timeline. We have clients who have waited days, weeks, months, or even years before feeling ready to adopt again. And they are all correct in their choices. We’ve learned that every dog we've had has been a rescue. They all knew the hardships of being in a shelter without a family, consistency, or routine. I like to think all of them would approve of us welcoming another dog in need. Tui is not Jax, just as Jax was not Max.

Some have jokingly referred to Tui as a "replacement." Yet in a city where healthy dogs are at risk of euthanasia due to overcrowded shelters, we’re more than willing to open our home. Life is indeed better with a dog. If we can help by freeing up space in a kennel for another dog, we will. Our hearts are big enough to love again, and we have fallen hard for Tui.

As of June 2025, Tui's two sisters, Polly Pocket and Betty Spaghetti, are still waiting for their forever homes. They are just as adorable as him. Street Tails is actively accepting adoption applications for them. Get in touch: info@streettails.org.

This much cuteness should be illegal. Tui's sisters are currently for adoption at Street Tails.