30/08/2025
When dogs show up in someone’s life with pretty much divine timing and purpose before anyone knows what the future holds.
After spending hundreds of hours around and with hundreds of dogs and dog owners over many years, I’ve heard so many stories about dogs entering someone’s life before anyone knows what to expect and changing it for the better. Stories of dogs finding the perfect person for them and people finding the perfect dog for them. I truly want to believe dpgs are spiritual beings we will be reunited with in the afterlife. If heaven exists I don’t want to go if dogs aren’t part of it. This is the story and the origins of my love and passion for dogs. Especially my boxers, Buddy and Smokey.
Growing up my family always had small dog breeds usually Dachshunds. I loved them but wasn’t obsessed like I am now. In college, I had cats. Shadow and Apollo, and it was perfect because I was always at the gym, in school, or working and never home. Fast forward to July of 2006 I suffered the onset of a catastrophic neurological disease. By 2008 it had progressed to disability rendering me unable to continue working in the fitness industry. This was beyond devastating as I’d had a job and been fixated on academic achievement and success since I was 14 years old. I had no idea what the future would hold and was going through tremendous loss, grief, and hardship. I was living in a small one bedroom cottage next to a railroad tracks along the back roads out in the country in Knoxville, East Tennessee. I had just had to walk away from my fitness job and had no idea what was going to come next.
A friend from my church small group had asked me to watch her small breed dog well on vacation and I happily obliged. One night, I go outside to get into my car in the driveway and I was confronted by what I perceived to be a very big and extremely scary dog. He had a collar dig so deep in his neck it had become an open wound, ribs sticking out and was filthy, but all I saw was a big square head and huge muscular body and I was completely intimidated, even terrified. It had never crossed my mind that I wanted or needed a dog at all, let alone a big scary one. I was going into a terrifying transition into disability due to a rare disease I never imagined I’d ever have. I thought it was someone else’s dog that got out so I started screaming, come get your dog and yelling out. I absolutely hate admitting this now, but I was actually so scared I even tried to kick the dog away from me. So I do this and come back inside hoping the dog would just wander away the same way he came.
The next day, I go outside to get, and this dog is still there. I was scared again, but had to take the small dog outside, so I did. The dog stayed in my driveway but kept some distance so I tried to ignore him. A couple more days passed like this. This dog never left and was outside every time I was. Eventually, I realized he wasn’t dangerous, but I still didn’t really want anything to do with him. I just thought it was weird a wondering dog to show up like that but never wander off or leave the same way they came. It was summer in TN so after a few days, I am like somebody needs to give this dog food and water, so I did outside. I started calling around different places and doing research in case anyone had reported a missing dog. This dog started getting closer and more comfortable with us on walks and I noticed he did respond to me, so I started referring to him as Buddy because I couldn’t think of anything else to call him. I took off the collar and cleaned the wound, but still didn’t want a dog. My plan was to search if anyone was missing their dog and if not bring him to a shelter. I searched around and didn’t find any reports of anyone missing this dog and a started making some flyers to put up in the area looking for anyone missing this dog.
Every day I got up expecting this dog to wander away the same way he showed up and was surprised to find him waiting outside of my door still in the summer Tennessee heat. One day I had a busy active day planned at church and I had to leave and would be gone all day. As I leave my driveway and pull out onto the 45mph country road, this dog followed me the entire way and was running full speed in the middle of the road behind my car and he maintained that speed and followed me quite a long distance. At that point, I was like no way that dog is going to come back now he’s so far from home, and/or he’s absolutely going to get hit now and that will be the end and nothing I can do about it now. People would absolutely fly down the back roads in the TN country side. There’s rarely much traffic at all so people love to speed down these country roads with a lot of twist and turns they can’t see around. I thought for sure that day him running down the middle of the road behind my car would be the last I’d ever see of him and the end of my trying to figure out what to do and how to deal with this strange new dog. After a long full nearly 12 plus hour day I come back home. I was dumbfounded and shocked to find this dog curled in a ball directly in front of my front door. He managed to avoid getting hit and find his way back home. I did not understand how or why this strange, big, scary, filthy dog had been wandering and somehow found my little one bedroom cottage along these back roads tucked away in the country with no close neighbors or nearby developments. I didn’t understand how he had gotten to me and I especially didn’t understand why for whatever reason he chose not to ever leave after he showed up. For whatever reason he found and chose me so I kind of started feeling responsible for him and to help him because he had no one else. It was beginning to appear more obvious that for some unknown reason this dog had intentionally chosen me. Even when I didn’t encounter him with love, joy, or excitement or anything but fear.Even though I hadn’t made any commitment or investment in him.
After a few days of sharing walks and giving him food and water outside, I decided to allow him inside the kitchen because he would squeeze himself in when I opened the door. I realized he was not in good health, he had open wounds and was very malnourished with ribs sticking out. (That doesn’t mean he was small though) At one point after he bathroomed something was hanging out of his behind and I pulled out a tapeworm segment over 6ft long. So clearly he was infested with worms and parasites. At the same time, I just had a brand new $1200 couch intended to help me manage and live with my pain comfortably, and it was pretty hot and summer time in TN. I didn’t really want a dirty dog in my house and most certainly not on my brand new church. So when I felt safe and trusted him enough to let him in the house after he forced his in, my next thought, was while someone has to clean this filthy dog up and give him a bath. He can’t just stay in this condition. Someone has to do something, and I guess that person is me.
I was not comfortable enough to leave him alone with the dog I was watching, but he had to get clean. So I lifted up this giant dog, put him in my car against his will, and headed to Wal- Mart. I went in bought new collars, shampoo and conditioner, food and water bowls, and flea and tick medication and other supplies and headed back home to give him a bath. This is where the fun begins. So I had a small standing room only shower with removable shower head. I knew I was going to get soaked in the shower with this dog and threw on a swimsuit. I dragged him in, bribed with peanut butter, and stood over him squished between my legs to bath him. Hilarity ensued. He escaped several times which lead to us both soaked in water and soap, slipping and sliding all over the hard wood floors. Me in a bikini chasing around this giant filthy dog and us both slipping and falling on the hardwood floors. But eventually I got it done and managed to dry him with a blow dryer a bit too. It was as a whole ordeal and quite a comical undertaking and I think this was one of our first real major bonding moments, but thankfully he got clean.
I continued looking for any lost dog alerts and calling around places and I put up my fliers, but no one ever responded or came around to get this dog. This dog was now allowed inside of my house but thankfully cleaned up now. However, there is no way I wanted a big dirty hairy dog on my brand new $1200 couch. So I didn’t allow him on it and he seemed to understand that and stayed off it. One day I am sitting on the couch, and this dog, I am now calling “Buddy,” comes to my feet, and first he lays his head on my lap, and looks up with my with big sad puppy eyes. Then he adds one front paw to my lap, then, slowly the other. He leans on me and closer with more of his body. Mind you he wasn’t allowed on the couch and knew that. But he continued to creep closer and put more of his body on my lap slowly. Next I know this 65plus lb dog jumped all the way up directly on my lap, curled in a ball, and sat and rested squarely on my lap totally squashing me. I was small, probably a size 6-8 at the time. He wasn’t allowed to sit on the couch, but he wasn’t, he was sitting directly on top of me without touching the couch. He looked so sad and pitiful and clearly just wanted to cuddle and be close. The way he did it, and so slowly, pitifully, and intentionally, I couldn’t even be mad. I was like thays so stinking cute and pretty dang smart way to figure out how to get on the couch without sitting on it. Another bonding moment between us. From the moment he showed up and decided he didn’t want to leave, he was slowly softening and getting me to open up my heart, little by little. It started with kicking and screaming at him to go away because he scared me, then sharing walks with me and the small dog I was taking care of, then giving some food and water outside, then letting him in the kitchen, then putting him in my car bringing him with me, then buying stuff and supplies for him, then letting him in the house, then giving him a bath, then playing a bit with some outdoor toys, and then sneaking onto the couch without sitting on it. I was able to relax more over time and I had started to enjoy his company. I realized he was not aggressive, kind of silly, and he was elated and happy every time he’d see me, and he actually wanted cuddles, closeness, and attention. The more I realized I could trust him the more I let my guard down. I thought it was so cute, sweet, and could not be mad about sweet soft cuddles. So I caved, put slip covers on my brand new $1200 couch, and allowed him on that too.
No one ever responded to my flyers, searches, or efforts to find an owner. I felt responsible for him at this point, and like everything else, I was like, well someone is going to have to take this dog to the vet. I guess that person is going to be me. So I schedule this appointment and that’s the first I heard the word “boxer.” I had no idea he was anything but a big scary dirty wandering dog. The vet estimated him to be about 1 1/2 years old. He had a lot of open wounds, cuts, scrapes so the vet predicted he had been wandering and living in the wilderness a long time. She thought there could have even been some dog fighting in his past but no way for sure. His collar was dug so deep in his neck it left an open wound. He was emaciated with ribs sticking out yet shockingly still over 65lb and that still quite large for a boxer. She said based on his condition it was extremely unlikely he had just wondered away from home or been lost from a responsible owner. She thought he had either been intentionally dumped or had been wandering alone scavenging and surviving for quite a long time or maybe even could have been bred and involved in fighting and dumped later. She told me with my time and effort it’s probably best to figure out a plan because she didn’t think anyone would ever come for him. His gut was absolutely tore up from parasites. Tapeworm, Round worm, pin worm and more. Every parasite a dog could have, he had. I got him treatment for all of his issues, parasites, wound care, and up to date on all vaccines. I really didn’t know what I was supposed to do or what was going to happen next.
So I bring this dog back that’s now named Buddy that I am now almost entirely responsible for. Now he’s allowed in the house, on my couch, and in my bed. He was never restrained ever since he showed up or after, but for whatever reason, he chose me and to not leave me. I had gone from being a high achiever in work, athletics, and academics and had been working hard my entire life. Yet I found myself being pushed into disability and isolation as my disease persisted and progressed. It was one of the biggest and hardest transitions in my life and it felt and was very lonely. And that is exactly when this dog shows up and decides not to leave. The last thing I wanted or thought I needed was a dog. Let alone a big, scary, dirty, sickly, stray dog. But for whatever reason eventually I had enough feels and felt responsible enough I am like I can’t just dump and abandon this dog at a shelter or surrender to animal control either. And after the vet told me I wouldn’t find an owner, I was like, “well, I guess he’s mine now!” Now, I was providing health care, food, water, supplies, and toys and treats too. Soon we were sharing walks, car rides, and enjoying games of fetch and playing, and sharing cuddles, couch, and bed. I introduced him to friends who had mixed feelings and reservations about me keeping him because “I didn’t really know him.” We seemed to bond a little more every day, and eventually, I didn’t want to be without him either, the same way he chose me. After enough time I’m basically like yeah, anywhere I go or whatever I do next, thos dog is going to have to come with me.
My twenties were extremely traumatic, terrifying, and hard. I suffered the onset of catastrophic rare and debilitating disease at 21 years old which eventually led to total disability after a few years. I went through extreme losses, changes, and it was a constant battle and fight to simply survive. I moved from Tennessee, to Wisconsin, back to Tennessee, and then to Michigan in my twenties. I endured the most extreme of pain, illness, and disease anyone can suffer. I had period where I was homeless, hungry, lapsed medical care, unstable housing, not enough resources, and had to rely on others to survive. I survived domestic abuse, financial fraud exploitation and abuse, all while my health deteriorated and I juggled managing my health, grief, and loss. My twenties were extremely rough, hard, and unstable and looking back I have no idea how or why I survived it at all.
However, I can say, this dog, this boxer, “Buddy,” was there for it all and every step of the way. Our bond kept me pressing forward through periods of instability. He kept me going when I wanted to give up. He comforted and loved me when I was otherwise lonely and isolated in my journey and life. How did this dog know to appear at the exact same time I was transitioning from working full time into living with a disability. How did this big scary dog know I’d need unconditional love more than ever and no one but him ever gave that to me. Looking back now he was always the one and only thing anchoring me. He never changed or left me no matter what I went through or endured. We went through all of it together. He did not see tragedy or disability like me and everyone else. He loved me, relied on me, and I was the center of his world, even more than he was me. I can’t help it, it appears as divine timing and purpose how and when he showed up and the impact on my life and future. He was everything I didn’t know I wanted and needed. It’s like he saw the future and chose me before I or anyone else knew what to expect or would come next. Yes, I now believe dogs are spiritual beings and often times can be divine gifts. This certainly appears the case with me and I’ve heard many similar stories as well.
Fast forward I am 28 years old and end up living in Michigan. Not long after moving here I end up pregnant and trying to manage a crisis pregnancy and preparing to become a single mom. Once it came time to deliver, everyone was scared about me having a big dog around an infant. Some people took care of Buddy during and after giving birth. Everyone I knew was telling me to rehome him. Everyone kept telling me and pressuring me enough one day I got so pi**ed off at the suggestion I packed my newborn up, went and picked Buddy up and put him in my car too and brought them both home together against everyone else’s suggestion. I couldn’t tolerate the idea of giving one love up for the other and I was determined to make both work. At first, Buddy just kept distance from the baby and moped around about being replaced . Eventually I introduced them more and would encourage Buddy to cuddle and be comfortable with us both. I never ever once heard a growl, or saw any aggression or acting out from Buddy or even saw him accidentally impose on or step on my baby. Buddy became my son’s absolute best friend, gaurdian, and caregiver and was like that until the day he died. Buddy became a staple in our neighborhood to other peoples kids too. Kids would come over and ask if “Buddy could come out and play,” as if he was a child. He was constantly provoking smiles and laughter from Mateo. And he remained my most loyal and consistent partner in life.
My son’s first word was “Buddy,” before mamma even. Mateo eventually referred to them as being like Kickey and pluto. Mateo used Buddy as a trampoline and wrestling mat and he never once flinched. He’d color on him, chase him around the house with a ball popper and crawl in his crate invading his space and Buddy never did anything but love him even more. When Mateo was in a time out it was rarely alone. Buddy would sit near to comfort him most of the time. He’d turn tears into laughter with licks. They’d both get attention when this little boy would walk behind this giant scary dog, Buddy was e very large boxer. 65lbs emaciated and 95lb- 110lb most of the rest of his life. Yet ultimately, I couldn’t have asked for or dreamed up a better dog for my kid. As a single mother and Mateo having no other siblings the relationship between Mateo and Buddy was both magical and critically important in my son’s development and life. I couldn’t be more grateful for all the happy memories and the life we shared together. Most of the time me, Buddy, and Mateo slept in the same bed and it was heavenly. I am grateful for every chapter in my life Buddy carried me through. But I am most grateful for the chapter he shared his love and life with my son.
Sadly, the only negative to a good dog is that it always comes to an end. I had Buddy over 12 years and he was almost 14 when he developed a soft tissue sarcoma, a cancerous tumor. There was no point in expensive surgeries and treatment he wouldn’t survive anyways. I had already gotten about 4 more years out of my boxer than most do. So, I did everything I could to make him comfortable and manage his pain. But eventually, the time came. The tumor had grown so large it was going to burst and he would have bled to death. When I finally scheduled his euthanasia the vet told me he probably wouldn’t have made it another week anyways. I cried a lot and prepared my heart. I didn’t want to let go but didn’t want to watch him suffer and bleed to death in pain either. I had professional photo shoot done the day before he passed. The day of, I cried the entire day. Before,during, and after. I could not and did not stop crying. But, I did hold him in my arms, close, and comfort him when he peacefully passed and stayed and grieved witb his body awhile after. It was one of the most painful and hardest losses of my entire life. In fact, I had a harder time and hurt more when Buddy passed from cancer than when my mom did. I know that sounds harsh but really think about it. Everything I had ever been through, Buddy never hurt me or left me. Nobody, not even my own mother, can even compete with that.
Months later I was gifted framed professional photos of our last day together and I balled my eyes out when I saw them. I took his ashes and mixed it with resin to make memorabilia and jewelry that honored his memory. I turned it into a business making memorabilia for others who lost their beloved pet to the rainbow bride. From the day he showed up to the day he left his presence and purpose in my life seemed divinely ordained and orchestrated. This scary creature that just showed up one day ended up being all I ever wanted, needed and could ask for from a dog. Not just for me, but for friends and neighbors and my son too. If there is an afterlife I expect to meet Buddy again. If not, I am not sure I’d want to go. This is my story with Buddy and I’ve heard plenty of others like it.
Next, I’ll share my story and journey to getting Smokey and now the life we have and share together too. But what do you think? Do you think an animal or pet can be a divine blessing? Do you have a story to share? Do you believe in Heaven or an afterlife where you’ll be together again?
