What Matters Now

I planned to start my blog this year posting about the events I am looking forward to this January. I planned to tell you about my self-care experience that I engaged in last month. And I planned to relay what I’ve chosen for each month’s activities for 2026. But as the words of the late John Lennon remind us, life is what happens while we are busy making other plans. Just as life happens, death does, too.

Since I’ve shared our sad news with family, friends, and neighbors, many people have said that they have no words. I, however, have only words. These words mostly form questions. The first and foremost, is “Why?” Followed by, “What happened?” and “What did we do wrong?”

Four days before Christmas found us relaxing at home. The day was like most others. I was up early and the “boys” slept in. After opening the shutters, I put the kettle on to brew coffee. Not long after, Kippers came padding down the hallway and greeted me as always with a long stretch at my feet. He wandered out the backdoor, and upon returning, he curled up on “his” favorite recliner. Resting comfortably, he looked up only briefly when Robert joined us and he received his morning pat. Just like other mornings, we got in about a half hour of calm before Kippers literally launched into active puppy mode! First, with a trip to the front room to climb up the couch and look out the window. We’d refer to this as Kyle Watch time. Kyle, a man in his 60s and Kippers first became friends when they met at our local park. Since then, Kippers would look for Kyle each day hoping to see him walking down our street.

Next, it was Play With Me time. That day, Kippers dug out a toy from his basket of treasures, the one we call Blue Fish and dropped it at Robert’s feet. A game of fetch ensued. All the while, Kippers kept a watchful eye on me. He was waiting for me to get up and place my coffee mug on the counter. This signaled that I was headed to our bedroom to put on some clothes and sneakers. Just like every morning, he stopped playing and followed me down the hall. Then, all three of us stood at our front door ready for our first walk of the day.

We followed this routine every day for almost three years. During this time, we saw Kippers change from a frightened, insecure, and impulsive pup who couldn’t walk the length of our cul-de-sac without barking wildly at anything he heard, saw, or sensed, into a happy, confident, and relaxed dog who couldn’t wait to get outside and trek for miles.

This transformation didn’t come easy. Anyone who knows the story of us taking him home, this scared, scarred, and neglected 6-month-old beagle from a farm in Fresno, knows how far he came. Anyone who knows the three of us from puppy training classes knows all the time, effort, and energy it took to get Kippers to trust us and himself. Anyone who knows us from our neighborhood and community knows all the love, patience, and kindness that was needed to help him trust others and the world around him.

From my journal: October 3, 2025, Newbury Park, California

“…Kips and I hiked @ Sycamore today. Was so nice! Blue blue skiies…fresh air, sunshine…good for both us!  He’s come such a long…really amazing…”

In my blog “Raising Kippers” posted on October 23, 2023, I wrote that just like raising children, raising happy and healthy pups require a village, too. How fortunate we were to find the support we needed. There was our first trainer, Blanca, who arrived at our house within two hours of Robert calling to ask for help the first week we had Kippers. All three of us sat on our family room floor while he growled and barked the entire two-hour meeting. Blanca, well-versed in reactive dogs, set us in the right direction, spending eight more sessions showing us ways to move forward.

There was Dr. Ali and her assistant who came to our house to exam and vaccinate Kippers the first year of his life, because Kippers couldn’t calm down in a car, let alone go into a vet clinic. There were our neighbors, who knowing our situation were gracious enough to let us bring Kippers by so he could learn to socialize with people. There was Vince, a special neighbor who knew just what to say and how to approach our skittish pup. As Vince’s wife Janean said, she wasn’t sure who was happier to see who, Vince or Kippers, each time they met. There was Tony, another exceptional trainer in whose classes, Kippers learned to be around other dogs. There was our loving pet sitter, Mary Jo who took great care with Kippers in our absences. There are so many more people who played a role in Kippers’ life who helped him be the best he could be. To all of you, we are eternally grateful.

We planned new adventures with Kippers this year. We planned more hiking. We planned to go to new places together. It hurts me to think about them right now. It pains me to think about his last day on earth. Going to the vets and thinking they’d find out what was wrong, and they’d be able to help him, and we’d all be on our way soon. Only to return home hours later to an empty house without him.

It’s only been two weeks since Kippers passed, and our journey together has ended. Which means we’re just beginning our healing process. The pain, grief, and shock are here. I feel it in my body, heart, and soul. But, in time I know we’ll be more at peace and the never-ending questions about “why” will give way to not what we lost, but what we gained.

We’ll never know what caused Kippers’ seizures the day we had to say good-bye to him, and like any huge loss, the reason doesn’t really matter now. What matters now is that we had three years to care for, love, and bond with this special precious being. And in return, Kippers cared for, loved, and has forever bonded with us.