On November 2, 2025, at 11:00 AM, our beloved Dakota crossed the rainbow bridge. Since that moment, not a single day has passed where she hasn’t been at the center of our thoughts and the heart of our prayers.
The months following a loss like this are a strange blur of "firsts." We navigated a Christmas that didn’t feel quite right and took walks that felt much too quiet. Rallies came and went, Susan found some peace on a cruise, and I returned to my volunteer duties at the YCSO. Life, as it tends to do, kept moving, even when it felt like our world had paused.
We recently held a ceremony that felt like a long time coming. We released some of Dakota’s ashes, joining her with the spirits of our other companions: Della, Koko, Gator, Chiquita, and Qua Pasa. It was a moment of profound closure, knowing they are all together now. We’ve kept just enough of her to eventually be mixed with Susan’s and my own, ensuring that when our time comes, the pack will be reunited for the final journey.
We recently held a ceremony that felt like a long time coming. We released some of Dakota’s ashes, joining her with the spirits of our other companions: Della, Koko, Gator, Chiquita, and Qua Pasa. It was a moment of profound closure, knowing they are all together now. We’ve kept just enough of her to eventually be mixed with Susan’s and my own, ensuring that when our time comes, the pack will be reunited for the final journey.
But as much as the past few months have been about looking back, the road is starting to call us forward again.
Grief is a heavy passenger, but it eventually finds its place in the backseat. Returning to my work at the YCSO and getting back into our routines has reminded us that while the co-pilot seat might be empty, the journey isn't over. We are learning to carry Dakota’s memory not as a weight, but as a light that guides us toward what’s next.
Grief is a heavy passenger, but it eventually finds its place in the backseat. Returning to my work at the YCSO and getting back into our routines has reminded us that while the co-pilot seat might be empty, the journey isn't over. We are learning to carry Dakota’s memory not as a weight, but as a light that guides us toward what’s next.
We don’t know exactly what the next chapter holds or which roads we will travel this year, but we know we go forward with the strength of the loyal friends who walked before us. To the rallies ahead, the miles yet to be driven, and the memories still to be made—we are ready.
So, stay tune for new adventures of DaGirls, as we head down the road in Gus da Bus.
Susan, Tilly, me and of course Dakota in sprit
So many great adventures right around the corner!
ReplyDeleteLooking forward to future adventures and companions!!
ReplyDeleteWell written Dale! So sorry for the gaping hole with Dakota’s passing. It’s tough because our pets are our family. You’re both in our thoughts and prayers and hoping that copilot seat gets filled once again!
ReplyDeleteBittersweet to read, but so true. We’re sure your co-pilot seat will be filled again soon, and new stories will follow. What will always remain are the countless memories and stories of your companion, Dakota.
ReplyDeleteEvery dog lover out here in the world knows exactly what pain and loss you are experiencing. I hope you can find another angel to help fill Dakota's void. Deb got a wonderful new dog. I got a new one a couple months ago. They can't replace the angels you had before, but they do a wonderful job at easing your pain and bringing some joy back to your life.
ReplyDeleteGreat story Dale. As always. I think that co-pilot seaton will be filled before too long and you'll be having somebody talk to you regularly. God bless you and Susan both and Tilly and happy travels. Be safe
ReplyDeleteLet the memories take the place of the sadness.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully shared - thank you for sharing with us. We miss our Toby-dog and Miss Maggie, but now we have sweet Jack.
ReplyDeleteSteve & Debbie Falcone