Did you know that the Swagtail logo was inspired by my English Staffy, Kai? That dog struts gracefully down the street as we go on walks together, and she’s fully immersed in whatever she’s sniffing, seeing, or chasing. Kai’s radiance is palpable. Her intuition is undeniable. And, her focus, inspiring.

Kai is my daily reminder that each human innately shares these same qualities as our canine companions. Only as humans, we often have to be more conscious about how we utilize and amplify them in our lives.

Swagtail was born as an avenue to share the ways we can thrive by doing so.

Then in 2022, an unexpected surprise showed up. A puppy who looked to be Kai’s sister needed a home. The funny thing was, she looked more like the logo than Kai!

In this blog post, I share the story of how Luna entered the picture. Our family was undergoing turbulent times back then. It was the start of of a big personal transformation for me. Yet through all of the challenges, one theme remained constant: I choose love.

Photo Credit: Brandi Caskey at Indigo Photography

I WANT ANOTHER DOG

It was Monday, August 29, 2022. The summer heat was quickly infiltrating the morning mountain air. Tall pines stood motionless along a placid Lake Almanor. Apart from the single skier eager to get glassy water, the entire basin was quiet.

My house was silent, too. Kai lay next to me as I sipped my tea and watched the world outside come to life through the large-paned window in front of me. These rare moments of solitude were my saving grace. On most days, my natural body clock had me up at 5 a.m. First, I’d check on Steve, as his health was steadily declining. Then, if he didn’t need me, I went downstairs to meditate. For fifteen minutes, my only job was to focus solely on my breathing. When my mind wandered into the unknown, I’d notice it and gently nudge it back to my inhale. Then, my mind would wander again. It would drift to thoughts about breakfast, events of the day, or the type of yoga class to select for my upcoming session. I noticed the wandering again and turned my attention back to my breathing. Many mornings, it felt like I was wrestling a wild animal or trying to tame an unruly stallion. Other times, it was like sitting peacefully beside a best friend.

After meditation, my habit was to unroll my yoga mat. It was rejuvenating to further get out of my head and into my body. I could understand what was going on at a visceral level. Where was I tense? What parts of me needed more attention? What areas were open and free? I used my breath through movements to enjoy the sheer act of being in a healthy body. It was a reminder that everything was okay right here, right now.

As my practice came to an end, I exhaled deeply. I kept my eyes closed as I transitioned back into an upright position. It felt good to simply be with me for these quiet minutes. I was by myself, loving myself. No one expected anything of me here. I didn’t expect anything of myself either. I just showed up, moved through the postures, and breathed deeply. I accepted the moment and did my best. A sense of clarity often showed up as a result of this practice.

It was in this space, I found room for new thoughts.

Today’s brilliant insight?

Let’s get a puppy!

Photo Credit: Alicia Collins, Redwood Coast Staffords

THE IDEA OF A PUPPY

A huge smile emerged on my face with this notion. Tingles of excitement electrified every cell of my being. I knew the same breeder through whom we got Kai currently had dogs for sale. In fact, I’d been stalking Alicia’s Facebook page for weeks. Steve’s illness over the past year sparked the idea to get another pet after he passed away. That way, Kai would have a furry friend to play with, and my focus could be on the immediate tasks that come with such a decision. Potty training. Crate training. Teaching the puppy how to sit, lie down, and stay would all be responsibilities to keep me in the present moment. Plus, there’s a whole lot of play, snuggling, and laughter that come along with puppies, too. I figured that would be the perfect way to offset the pain of losing my soulmate.

I closed out the yoga app on my phone, then pulled up Alicia’s Facebook page and scrolled down to find the image of the puppy I wanted. She looked similar to Kai. Most of her body was black, except for the white on her ankles and feet. She had a black-and- white spotted belly, which was visible beneath the breed’s short hair. Her eyes were a warm brown, and she had a white stripe down to her nose. To top off the cuteness, the tip of her black tail was white, as if it had been dipped in paint.

“Adorable!” I gushed out loud.

The date of the image was still the same. One week ago. No new updates. I knew Alicia was a busy gal, running the K-9 Activity Center in Santa Rosa and breeding dogs with her Redwood Coast Staffy business.

“Does that dog still need a home?” I pondered. I really hope she did.

Photo Credit: Alicia Collins, Redwood Coast Staffords

WHAT WILL STEVE SAY?

A buoyant optimism swooned through me as I cleaned up my yoga space, ascended to the main floor of the house, and proceeded to make my tea.

“I wonder how Steve’s doing,” I thought. This was a constant concern in my mind.

I walked past the leather sofa and empty fireplace to the bedroom down the hall. Soft sun rays pierced through the sheer ivory blinds and illuminated the space. I could see Steve stirring as I entered. Above the knotty pine headboard was a full-scale, screen-printed image of red fir branches. This distracted you from the yellowing wallpaper beneath it, although both revealed the dated decor throughout the cabin.

“Hi, babe,” I said, sitting down on the green and brown duvet. I moved my fingers through his thick head of silvery hair. “How’d you sleep?”

His soft hazel eyes looked up at me.

“Not great, but I got some rest,” he admitted. “Can you help me to the bathroom?”

“Sure,” I agreed. This was something I grew accustomed to doing over the past few months. Then I helped Steve into his slippers and fleecy maroon cover-up, and we made our way out to the breakfast nook.

REVEALING MY IDEA

“Here’s your coffee,” I said, handing Steve a steaming mug of black java.

He sat in the plush corner chair, looking out the window. The wilderness outside was inspiring. The branches of two towering firs came within feet of the deck and provided shade to the grassy yard below. A redheaded woodpecker was on one of them, exploring the trunk vigorously. A blue jay swooped by and landed on the wrought iron railing. Beyond the majestic evergreens, the lake’s surface was growing brighter as the sun rose higher into the sky.

“Thanks, he said, cupping the large handle carefully. I made sure he had it firmly in his grasp before I let go.

I perched myself on a matching swivel chair opposite him as he took his first sips. I knew to be quiet and give Steve some time to wake up before pounding him with the ideas already swimming around in my mind.

“Just give me a few minutes,” Steve would lovingly admonish me when my excitement was too overwhelming. “I’ve got to get my brain online before I can comprehend what you’re saying.”

We’d laugh at these moments. I’d always been an early riser, ready to rock and roll from the get-go. Steve needed time to wake up before he was ready to listen.

By the time I poured Steve a second cup, he initiated a conversation.

“What’s on your mind this morning, Kym?” he asked.

I smiled sheepishly. “Well,” I said with a bit of hesitation in my voice. I wanted to broach the subject slowly. “You know how I said I wanted to get a puppy after you made your transition?”

Steve nodded. We talked about everything openly, including what my life might look like after he left his body. In years past, Steve was a grief and loss counselor. He helped many clients make peace when facing their own death, and others make sense of their lives after a loved one passed away. Steve was a compassionate, reliable support for people in those uncertain times. He wanted to be the same for me before he left.

“I’d actually like to get a puppy sooner than that,” I revealed, the pace now speeding up in my voice. “Alicia has a 10-week Staffy that needs a home. The original buyers from the East Coast backed out, and now this sweet little thing needs a family.”

Steve’s eyes widened with curiosity, but he said nothing.

“I think she’d be so good for Kai.” I went on, “Our old girl just ignores us and wants to sleep through most of the day. Another dog could get her more active. Plus, it would be so fun to have a positive thing to focus on right now.”

Steve’s eyes remained kind and interested as I pleaded my case.

“We’re home all day right now, anyway,” I added. “It would be an ideal way to give a puppy the attention she needs.”

I finally let out an exhale. My bold idea was out in the open.

Photo Credit: Alicia Collins, Redwood Coast Staffords

A PUPPY PLAN

Adding a new puppy to the house of a dying man might seem absurd enough. But I didn’t give you the whole picture. Just three days prior to my request, Steve had a second stroke. I found him in bed with a droopy left cheek and a limp left side of his body. I called 9-1-1 immediately. The rescue team collected Steve within 20 minutes and transported him to our local clinic. Yet they didn’t have the resources necessary for this kind of emergency. This meant a helicopter ride to Chico, some 90 miles away, was in order.

Thankfully, Steve arrived at that hospital in time to get the proper care, and within twenty-four hours, he regained his full capacity for speech once again. It was a close call for even more changes in our already uncertain landscape.

While Steve was in the ICU, sadness hit me hard. I felt like all of the bright spots in my life, all of the things I was hopeful about, were in a post-Steve future. This included our new van, a return to playing golf, free time with friends, free time for myself, and teaching my community of yogis. Getting a puppy was also on this list.

Now here we were, back in the mountains, and I was eager to have something to be excited about. I looked over at Steve as he took another swig of his coffee. He was great at letting silence fill the space. I was on pins and needles as I awaited his response.

Before Steve spoke, I asked if I could show him a picture of the puppy. He obliged, and he took my phone in his hand. He studied the image for a few excruciating minutes, looking over the puppy in great detail.

“She has a natural white collar, just like Kai,” Steve observed out loud, “and she has that white line running from the stop to her nose, too.”

I was elated he saw the similarities between the dogs. I thought they looked like sisters, despite being born 9 years apart.4“I’ve got a proposal,” I announced, in the sweetest tone possible. “What if we call Alicia and see if the dog is even still available. If it is, maybe we could go take a look.”

Steve’s eyebrows raised.

“Then if she’s not,” I continued, “I’ll drop the subject altogether. I’ll take it as a sign that now is not the right time to add a dog to our family.”

Steve miraculously agreed, and I dialed Alicia’s number. Voicemail.

“Damn it,” I thought.

I left Alicia a detailed message, refilled Steve’s coffee a third time, and sat back down across from him.

“If we’re going to get a dog,” Steve said, his mind already working up the logistics of this possibility, “we’ll have to do so before your mom and sister arrive tomorrow night. Either that, or we’ll have to wait a week until after they’re gone.”

I was giddy at the realization that Steve was taking my suggestion seriously.

“I think we have an extra travel crate in the basement,” Steve kept going. “You’ll have to bring it up and wash it before we go. Then we could get a bed for it on our way to Santa Rosa.”

He was reading my mind.

Steve surprised me by concluding, “I’d prefer to go today, if possible.”

Photo Credit: Alicia Collins, Redwood Coast Staffords

SANTA ROSA OR BUST

By 8:50 a.m., Alicia returned my call. The puppy was there!! I jumped up and down internally with each word of our conversation. Then my body exploded into a full-fledged, happy dance when I hung up.

“We’re going to look at a puppy!” I exclaimed.

Steve smiled at my joy and asked, “How long does it take to get there, Kym?”

I opened the GPS on my phone and typed in our destination.

“The map says it will take four hours and fifteen minutes,” I confirmed, “but that will probably be close to five hours if we stop at the pet store and get gas.”

By 11 a.m., we were on the road heading southwest. The first 80 miles of the drive were forested turns as we made our way out of the Sierra Nevada mountains. Then long stretches of almond orchards and rice fields accompanied us down the Central Valley. Six lanes of traffic greeted us as we merged into Interstate 80 near Vacaville. This was the excuse we needed to stop for supplies and a much-needed stretch.

The pace of our journey slowed further as we transitioned from I-80 onto Highway 37 at Vallejo. Two lanes blended into one at this juncture and the posted speed of 55 miles-per-hour was double that of the actual flow of cars. Thankfully, we got back to moving at full speed when we hit Highway 101 in Petaluma. With each travel delay, my initial excitement diminished. I was now tired and hungry and ready to just be still for a while. I was seriously questioning my sanity at this point.

MEETING THE NEW PUPPY

After a total drive time of five and a half hours, we arrived at the K-9 Activity Complex. Four large buildings, painted white with black trim, made it feel like we were entering a farmhouse chic getaway instead of a canine compound. The large oak trees dispersed throughout the property stood listless on the sweltering afternoon.

“I’ll go in and see what the scoop is,” I told Steve. “Then I’ll come back out and get you.

“Perfect,” Steve agreed. We both knew walking was a tall order for him these days.

A cacophony of barking dogs welcomed me as I made my way to the main entrance. A dark-haired teen at the reception desk greeted me warmly. If she were a dog, she’d be doing a full-body waggle herself. Alicia always had great staff members on her team. Each one genuinely loved your pet as much as if it were their own.

“Hi,” I said, with as much energy as I could muster. “I’m Kym, and Alicia is expecting me. She has a puppy for me to check out.”

“Oh, my gosh!” the girl cooed. “That pup is so cute. I met her earlier, and I wish I were taking her home myself.”

I smiled at her confirmation that this was one stunning pooch.

“Alicia’s in the back office,” said the girl, her huge chocolate eyes sparkling in contrast to her pale skin and petite nose. “I’ll give her a call and have her meet you at the training center. Do you know where that is?”

I shook my head no.

“It’s right across from here,” she informed me, extending her arm to the square structure past the gate. “Just exit the door you came in, turn left, and find a seat at one of the wooden benches beneath the red sun sails.”

I turned my head in that direction.

“The misters are on today,” she continued, “so it should make the heat a bit more tolerable. I can’t believe it’s almost 100 degrees out there!”

I thanked her for the help and made my way back to the van to get Steve.

A pudgy, middle-aged woman in a blue tank top and purple Crocs moved benches as we approached the outside waiting area. She was accompanied by a well-behaved yellow lab, and could tell we were out of our element.

“The trainers will let us in when they’re ready for us,” she offered, explaining the club’s procedures voluntarily.

I peered past the woman and into the space behind the glass doors. Stacks of colorful platforms flanked the left side of the room. The right wall, covered in mirrors, was lined with a variety of dog crates, some holding dogs awaiting their turn to play.

“But I see you don’t have a dog with you,” the stranger went on, stating the obvious. “What are you doing here today?”

“We’re here to meet one of Alicia’s Staffies that needs a home,” I announced. M

y tone was definitely a bit more weary than excited at this point.

As if on cue, Alicia walked up with the puppy in her arms. Alicia’s

shoulder-length blonde hair bounced with each of her confident steps in our direction.

“Follow me inside,” she said, opening the door effortlessly with one hand while she balanced the dog in the other. Her blue eyes and broad smile lifted my mood.

THE MOMENT OF TRUTH

Once indoors, Steve and I sat down on a wrought iron bench in the makeshift foyer.

“Why don’t you hold her?” Alicia asked, passing me the puppy. I had no choice but to open my arms and embrace the warm, soft creature. I held her close and kissed the top of her head. She smelled like dried grass and vanilla.

“She’s shy right now,” Alicia explained. “This is her first time at the facility, and it’s really overwhelming for her.”

“I feel that way, too,” I admitted. I was on sensory overload as multiple trainers gave orders to canines right behind us. Other dogs whined from the back room, and more barked from the outside playground.

“Does she have a name?” I asked Alicia.

“Not officially,” she replied with a smirk. “But we like to call her Trouble.”

“Why? Does she dig like Kai?” Steve chimed in, making light of the fact that our terrier had our backyard looking like an upended minefield.

Alicia laughed at this.

“No signs of being a digger yet,” Alicia revealed. “She’s just playful and instigates wrestling matches with the other pups at home.”

“That picture of her in the pen with the other tan and white dogs is adorable,” I raved.

“Those are from a more recent litter,” Alicia explained, “but they all play and bite and snuggle like they’re blood kin.”

Alicia was in her element, while I felt miles away from mine.

“I’ll leave you two with the puppy for a minute,” Alicia said to us. “I’ve got to go check on the pool. We’ve had some issues with it today, and it’s backing up our schedule of doggie swimming lessons. I’ll be right back.”

I passed the dog to Steve once we were alone. Given her small frame, Steve could easily hold the pup in spite of his weakened state.

“She’s precious,” Steve said.

“I’m not sure about this, babe,” I confessed. “This is a really big decision. I felt confident about it this morning. But now that we’re here, the reality of what it’s going to take to give this dog the attention she needs is sinking in. It might be too much for me.”

Steve listened as he stroked the puppy’s smooth coat.

“It’s already five o’clock,” I went on. “Why don’t we get some food, stay at a hotel, get a good night’s rest, and come back in the morning to make our decision when we’re fresh.”

Steve looked me in the eyes.

“Kym,” he said gently. He could tell I was fragile, maybe even on the verge of crying in my exhausted state. “I know you. You’re going to want this puppy. The unknown might be scary right now, but you won’t be able to stop thinking about her when we leave. Then you’re always going to wonder what could have been if we don’t take her home.”

A tear trickled down my cheek.

“You’ve wanted this for a long time, girl,” he continued. “She’s beautiful, and we’ll give her such a loving home. Let’s get her.”

Steve was right. This was a big moment, and I found myself shying away from what I really wanted. Why was I doing that? Was I insecure about my ability to handle this responsibility? Was I afraid that I couldn’t care for the puppy and Steve at the same time? Steve knew my strengths, and deep down, I knew he was right.

“What are we going to call her?” I asked Steve.

He paused for a split second, then confidently proclaimed, “Let’s call her Luna.”

PUTTING IT ALL TOGETHER

The truth was that Steve and I knew the value of our focus in those tumultuous days. We started to simplify our lives. We were fine-tuning our priorities. And just like I used meditation to train my mind into the present, Steve and I wanted to concentrate on what mattered most to us. This was an ongoing battle as lots of people and subjects competed for our attention. Doctors’ visits. Medication management. Dietary considerations. Brother drama. Son drama. Coco family drama. Selling a house. Closing a business. Moving to Florida.

Instead of being pulled in those stressful directions, we highlighted the things that aligned with our values. We wanted to appreciate life. We watched sunrises and sunsets as often as we could. We filled mornings with meaningful conversations on the days Steve felt strong enough to do so. We snuggled on the couch and listened to each other’s heartbeat in bed.

Adding a puppy to the family was another conscious choice in this vein. We were choosing love. We didn’t have a timeline for how long Steve would remain in his body. Nor could we predict the rollercoaster we’d be on until that day arrived. Those details were hazy. But we did know this: authentic connection gave us purpose, and we had the time and space to welcome Luna into our affectionate home with open arms. And we were all in!