There’s a moment every dog lover dreads.
We know it’s coming — deep down, we do — but when it finally arrives, it can shake us in ways we never expected.
For me, that moment came when I was in Norway on business, finalizing our FeelGood Omega production. Shortly after my arrival, I received a call that my beloved dog, Skai, was declining rapidly. A sad consequence of an accident, when an airport luggage handler accidentally hit his head with a suitcase.
I immediately boarded a flight back to Vancouver and, honestly, cried the entire way.
But when I arrived home and saw Skai lying on the sofa, covered with blankets, gently lifting his head to say hi, I knew I had to be strong for Skai.
I still remember the moment as clear as day…
I remember sitting there, having Skai’s head in my lap, knowing what I had to do. My heart was breaking into a thousand pieces, but I knew this was the ultimate expression of love.
First, I gave myself an hour, then 30 more minutes, but I knew I couldn’t stop time.
I drew the medication, inserted the needle in the IV port, braced myself, closed my eyes, and pressed the plunger while tears ran down my cheeks.
And then… he was gone.
Skai was my Zen dog, my best friend and teacher who made my life a million times better, and when he left, it felt like a chunk of me left with him.
For months, I would glance into the back seat of my car, expecting to see his smiley face, looking forward to the next adventure.
The grief was so overwhelming that I had to stop going to the places we used to go together sometimes.
My life was suddenly so different.
I seriously wondered…if it was possible to love another dog the way I loved Skai.
I have seen some people bringing a puppy home before their senior dog passes. Other people wait months or years, and we knew we needed time to grieve before we were ready.
After about a year, we started to look for a rescue border collie puppy, and when we found one, the rescue administrator was questioning if we were the right match.
It was a discouraging and frustrating process.
And then I met Pax.
He was born and lived at a farmhouse outside Prague, and the moment I met him and his kind and caring human mom, Nella, I knew — he was the one.
It was like my heart had been locked after Skai passed, and Pax had the key.
I believe dogs come into our lives for different reasons.
Skai was serious, disciplined, and always by my side like a soldier. That’s who I was at the time — focused, dedicated to my veterinary practice, running at full speed, not knowing how to balance my life.
Pax? He’s different. He’s playful, lighthearted, naughty and definitely has an opinion. I call him “my little Bohemian,” as the word Bohemia stands for Czech Republic in Latin.
Through him, I’ve learned how to bring more balance in life, have fun, let go of stress, laugh more, live simply, and be more myself.
Each dog brings us something unique. They teach us, they shape us, and, when the time is right, help us heal.
I know we dog lovers fear THE DAY more than our own death, but living with dogs is so beautiful, and we are willing to do it again despite the heartbreak we experienced before.
If you’ve ever lost a dog, I know how much it hurts, but I also know that the universe, God, or whoever you believe in, sends us dogs to learn how to love and become the best version of ourselves.
I wanted to share this story with you so you know you are not alone. I am also grateful for having the opportunity to help you and your dogs to have more time together.
Give them a hug for me.
