Following Feather

12/30/2025

12/30/2025

12/30/2025

12/30/2025

in one of her favorite fields

12/28/2025

12/28/2025

Feather was so happy with her new Christmas toy from in Port Jefferson. She did eventually share it with her friend Poppy.

12/25/2025

Merry Christmas 🎄🎁 🎄🎄🎄🐾🐾🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🐾🐾🎄🎄🎄🎄

12/24/2025

12/24/2025

If you are still looking for a special gift for your best friend in is open Christmas Eve. We had a wonderful time picking out a special toy for and her friends. It wouldn’t be without a visit to fetch for Feather, so we took a ride on the ferry and it is literally just around the corner from the PortJefferson ferry terminal. Also a beautiful is just up the block. They have a wonderful display of life size to discover this week to make your visit even more magical.

12/21/2025

The Stonington Fire Department

12/21/2025

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

The first time I noticed the change, it wasn’t dramatic.
It was small. Almost easy to miss.

A pause before standing up.
A slower turn.
The way the walk that used to be a sprint became a careful series of steps.

I remember stopping without thinking, turning back, and waiting.

Not because I had to.
But because something in me knew this moment mattered.

There was a time when my dog ran toward me with everything he had. No hesitation. No doubt. Just pure belief that I was his place of safety. I didn’t have to call. I didn’t have to wait. He was already there, heart leading the way.

And now, the roles feel different.

Now it’s me who slows down.
Me who adjusts pace.
Me who notices how much effort it takes to keep going.

There’s a quiet ache in that realization. Not sadness exactly. More like reverence. Because love doesn’t disappear when bodies change. It transforms. It becomes patience. Presence. Memory.

I think about all the times he waited for me.
At the door.
By the window.
Through storms and long days and silent hours.

And I understand something I didn’t fully grasp back then.

Loyalty isn’t loud.
It isn’t dramatic.
It’s steady.

It’s staying, even when running isn’t possible anymore.

There’s a sacredness in this stage of life that doesn’t get talked about enough. The slowing down. The remembering. The way love asks us to give back what was once freely given to us without effort.

Not because we owe it.
But because we remember.

When I walk beside him now, I don’t think about how things used to be. I think about how lucky I am that we’re still here together. That I get to be the steady one now. That I get to carry the pace when his steps grow heavy.

Some loves arrive fast and burn bright.
Others stay long enough to teach you how to slow down.

And those are the ones that stay with you forever.

12/21/2025