11/27/2025
This holiday season feels different — heavier in some ways, more awake in others.
And Thanksgiving feels like the perfect moment to pause and reflect… to recalibrate… and to take honest, heartfelt inventory of everything we still have, even in seasons of loss, change, or transition.
We spend so much of our lives chasing what’s next
that we forget to honor what’s now.
We move through our days assuming the people we love will always be there.
Assuming our health will hold.
Assuming life will keep its familiar shape.
Assuming “normal” is guaranteed.
Until something — or everything — changes.
And in seasons like this one — when life tilts and shifts under your feet — sometimes the universe sends a sign to steady you.
If you've followed me for a while, you know I'm a praying gal.
My faith and relationship with God is strong, and has guided and carried me through the storms that have shaped my life — especially over the last five years.
I ask for signs, and I receive them. Always. (“Signs: The Secret Language of the Universe” by Laura Lynne Jackson is a book I recommend often. Her new book, Guided, is one I’m reading and loving right now.)
Yesterday, I was sitting in the backyard with Cowboy, Winnie, and Steve — letting myself soak in a quiet moment before everything changes — when Cowboy and Winnie suddenly huffed and ran toward the far corner of the yard.
And there, perched on the back wall, was a white egret.
A white egret.
Something I haven’t seen since I left Virginia.
Completely unexpected.
Completely random.
Completely perfect.
I immediately looked up the symbolism, because it felt like more than coincidence.
It was the sign I'd asked for.
You see, every day I spend in prayer.
I pray on our pack walks.
I pray in moments of heaviness and overwhelm.
I pray to give thanks when something good happens.
And I pray each night before I go to sleep.
On my prayer yesterday morning, I was crying — sobbing — begging for help, for support, for guidance… begging for a sign that I was being heard.
And, later that day, the egret arrived.
White egrets symbolize purity, grace, resilience, divine guidance, balance, harmony, good fortune, and new beginnings.
They survive.
They adapt.
They thrive.
They stand still in the water with unwavering calm and purpose.
If ever there was a sign for this particular chapter…I’ll take it.
That moment reminded me — in a way I absolutely needed — to appreciate what I do have, even as I prepare to leave so much behind.
To honor the love.
The memories.
The stability.
The routines.
The people.
The dogs.
And this incredible community that has carried us through the darkest parts of this rescue.
I'm also deeply and profoundly grateful for Steve and his family.
The way they’ve shown up for me, supported me, and encouraged me as I fought my way back to myself after the trauma of these last years.
Supported and cheered me on through the writing of my books…
All of it has been unlike anything I’ve ever experienced in my life.
In the last two years alone, I published three books:
• "Pieces in Heaven" — my children’s book on pet loss and grief (after the passing of each of my treasured pack members, one by one, over a 23 month timeframe; the last being my "Baby Giant", my beloved Levi)
• "Little Todd Finds His Forever Home" — the story of my sweet Todd (with a character in there inspired by Steve :))
and
• "The Human End of the Leash: Dog Training’s Missing Link" — the book that took four years to write and every ounce of honesty I had in me
Steve and his family welcomed me in and embraced me for all of it — cheering, encouraging, celebrating, believing.
Their kindness…
Their consistency…
Their love...
Their support…
Has healed me in ways I don’t think I’ll ever fully be able to put into words.
I grew up as the outsider.
The “animal girl” no one really got or understood.
My family is estranged.
Support, encouragement, holding space, unconditional care —
those were not things I grew up with.
“Having each other’s back” was not something I was raised with.
But then I met Steve and his family.
And for the first time in my life, I experienced what it felt like to be embraced fully — with love, respect, compassion, and genuine care.
They have healed places in me I didn’t even know were still hurting.
So today — despite the grief, despite the upcoming goodbye, despite the chaos of this rescue — I want to honor that.
To honor them.
To honor every bit of love I’ve been given.
Because the truth is, we don’t fully see what we have until Life asks us to loosen our grip.
But today, I’m choosing to see it.
To name it.
To honor and savor it while I still can.
And I want to say thank you — to this community, to these dogs, to Steve, to his family, and to every single person who has held space for us.
If this post offers you anything today, let it be this:
Don’t wait for Loss to wake you up.
Don’t wait for Distance to force clarity.
Don’t wait for Chaos to appreciate your peace.
And don’t wait until you’re Leaving Something
to finally see it.
Look around — truly look.
What have you stopped noticing?
Who have you stopped appreciating?
What blessings have quietly slipped into the background of your life?
Bring them forward.
Name them.
Honor them.
Let them soften you.
Gratitude isn’t just a practice.
It’s a way of living awake.
And yesterday, a white egret landed on my wall to remind me of that.
Thank you — all of you — for walking this impossible road with me.
Thank you for your compassion, your support, and your presence.
You've saved lives.
You've made a huge difference.
You've changed mine.
And I will never stop being grateful for each and every one of you.
