If you have a dog story, I am exactly the kind of person who wants to hear it.
This feels more like the woman writing back from this blog: a little private, a little ordinary, and clearly somebody whose day already revolves around the dog beside her.
The nicest part of keeping this blog has been hearing from people who say, “I thought I was the only one noticing that.” If you have a rescue story, a senior-dog question, or one of those tiny observations you cannot stop thinking about, you are welcome to write.
I am slower than I mean to be sometimes, but I do read the messages that come in.
This still just opens your email, on purpose.
If you want to write, tell me your dog’s name first and then tell me what has been feeling familiar, strange, hopeful, or hard lately.
I usually answer the kinds of emails that feel like little letters, not polished requests.
The easiest way to reach me
Email is simplest for me. If you want to send a note, use this little link and tell me your dog's name right away because that is always the part I want to know first.
A few things people usually ask
- Yes, you can write even if your question is small or strange.
- Yes, I do read stories about senior rescues and cry a little over some of them.
- No, I am not a vet, so I always want people using real veterinary guidance too.
- Yes, if I mention something I use in my own house, I try to say it plainly.
A tiny form for the old-blog feeling
I always loved when old blogs had a little contact box even when you knew it probably just sent an email. So I kept that feeling here too.
- Name
- Dog name
- Your note
- What made you click today?
What Helped My Senior Dog Feel Like Herself Again
The long version of what I noticed, what I wrote down, what I changed, and the one chew that ended up staying in our routine.
What a good adoption event looks like to me
I do not believe in loud events for senior dogs who spent years in a crate. When I bring a foster like Pickle to a meet-and-greet, I prefer the edges of the room.
Five things I watch in my senior dogs now
The afternoon light on the kitchen floor creates long, amber rectangles that usually signal nap time for my three residents. I stood by the ceramic dog-bone jar by the coffee maker, watching Pickle pace the edge of the rug runner while Mabel slept near the back door.