​​​​

​

I was 24 when I adopted my "soul dog," Tovi. I was in graduate school, living alone for the first time in a studio apartment the size of a shoebox and furnished by the FREE section of Craigslist. Tovi died shortly after I turned 37 and, by then, had walked me down the aisle at my first wedding and served as my husband's Best Dog at the next. We experienced countless moves, milestones, and ordinary moments in between the bookends of his life.

​

His companionship enriched my life in ways I could have never imagined. He was truly the love of my life, my once-in-a-lifetime dog. He gave me the best days of my life, and when he died, the worst.  EVERYTHING changed. My life split into the Before and After. My grief journey became complicated when I struggled to attach to the dog I subsequently adopted. Months of debilitating grief passed, and I found myself on a journey to understand what I was going through and how to move forward.

​​

​​

As a lifelong journaler, I turned to what I did best. I wrote, and wrote, and wrote some more... I began to refer to my writing as “Pet Therapy Notes."  I discovered the power of the pen to paper in healing, and I want to share that with you. 

​​​

I have a Master's Degree in Counseling Psychology with additional training in grief. I went into the field because I found it interesting academically, but it wasn't a fit in practice.  Being a clinician literally gave me mini panic attacks several times a day (exaggerating a little, but it was a bad time in my life), and after twelve long years in the field, I let it go in 2019. I've never felt mentally better. This is my long-winded way of letting you know I cannot be here to counsel you, but I have tons of resources for professionals who can. Throughout my life, I've been involved in the rescue community as both a volunteer and foster, and later worked at an animal shelter. At the shelter, I encountered an entirely new aspect of loss: surrendering a pet, behavioral euthanasia, and the terror of a missing pet. I am not naive enough to think the majority of pet surrenders devastate owners, but many do, and that loss has every right to be seen and processed. I am a firm advocate for validating these losses. 

​​

I live in Baltimore with my husband and two rescue dogs, Fred and Ethel. They enjoy strutting around our neighborhood, hiking, indulging in Bully Sticks, and are avid Lambchop collectors. Even though his mom loves riding, Fred strongly dislikes bicycles and is guaranteed to have a meltdown when he passes them. ​​​​​​​​​​​​​

​​