In Loving Memory

I will love Inca forever. And I know one day I will see her again and give her big hug. ♥️

Sweet boy in our hearts always 💜.

My Dear Sweet Matilda. Thank you for blessing my life with yours. You are a sweet gentle, loving caring soul. Me and Pierre are so sad you have left us. But we couldn’t watch you suffer in that body any longer. I know you were greater with all of my past dogs with so much love and licks. And Chase is your Master now. I know he was also very excited to meet you my sweet Angel. You left a hole that me and Pierre will fill with all of the Happy memories of you Matilda. Till we meet again run and be happy and pain free. Love forever your mommy Shelley.And best brother Pierre.🌈🐶🐶🌈

Thank you for being with me for so long sweet girl, I miss you and I'll love you forever. I don't know how to live life without you but I know you're finally at peace.

I miss you so much already my sweet prince. Life will never be the same without you. You are the reason for the life I have today - you brought together so many people, cats and even dogs. I love you always, forever. Until we meet again.

To Blue, my baby girl, my best and biggest love. I miss you beyond the beyond but I know you must be Running like the Wind once again, sweet girl. I can’t wait to see you again when it’s my time… until then always know how much I appreciate everything you gave me for 14 years, walking by my side and loving me no matter what, despite my human frailties. I am so proud of you - being your mama was, and will always be, my greatest joy. Thank you with all my heart for choosing me, for being my best girl. I love you with every inch of me. Forever. Love, your mama💙🪶🌼

Nicholas.. my heart, my protector and my friend. I miss you terribly! Your energy and your love will always be a comfort to me.

Bruno will be forever in our hearts. ❤️

He was my best friend and soulmate. My life will never be the same without him in it. I love you, Charlie.

Bruno The profundity of his life is almost matched by the profundity of my grief. For 14 years, I looked at him and felt his love, his preciousness, his dedication, as well as my reflection in his deep, soulful gaze. I relished (undeservingly) and returned (unconditionally) his adoration as a companion and partner in work, walks, and adventures. He was a gift to be shared with the world and he made an impact on everyone he met; softening those that subscribed to dated training methods, livening a space with his grace, melting hearts with his bouncy gait, disarming others with his goofy-ness and inspiring others to get poodles or doodles. I loved him and received the profound love that he gave me. He was a portal into the best that life has to offer. He was more than an usher into partnership and motherhood; he was a cornerstone and a root, my connection to the open, unspoken and loving parts of my soul. When he died, God made the heavens cry; the downpour muted my free, visceral wails. The digging did me a lot of good, and gave me a channel to process the loss of such an incredible creature. I still see his face peering around the corner or opening the bathroom door just to make sure I was there. I still feel his muted bark at the back door after we let him out to pee, although he always preferred to be escorted and never wandered far. I remember how much he hated thunder and how much he loved string cheese. I have loved deeper than I knew was possible. Evidence of him around the house is double sided; reminders of the painful ailments that brought us here as well as signs that we had the privilege of taking care of him. I know in my bones that a lifetime would not have been long enough. On Sunday, we had a wonderful day at Montreat Park. He drank from the creek, chased splashes, made friends, and forced me to fetch. He stumbled and drank and barked at us to throw rocks and splash his face. I made a point to follow him and let him take the lead, while Riley took charge of occupying Molly. After a good chunk of time playing in the water, he walked back to the ramp, signaling he was ready to go home. It felt like a metaphor for the majority of time he had been tagging along, always waiting on us and doing what I wanted him to do (especially in the presence of a young child). When I was able to stop and listen, he let me know it was time to go. We came home and I told Riley I wasn’t ready. It was too good of a day and what if it wasn’t the right decision. I laid down with Bruno and whispered, “I’m not ready. Are you?” The night was long as he coughed through the entire night, grasping temporary comfort in a few short sleeps. I tried to hold space for cuddling but he couldn’t find comfort in any one position. I knew by morning that he was ready, so I needed to be. Thank you to those that made it possible to bring him to work with me for 8 wonderful years. Thank you to the fashion designers that gave him a stage to show off his talents. Thank you to those that loved him and saw him as a life changing and necessary force in my life. Most of all, thank you to the Gilbert family for trusting me with him. I miss him and I am profoundly sad to have lost him. I wasn’t ready, but he showed me that he was.