It’s July 12^th, 2026 and miserably hot and humid, and it’s been one year today since Sundance ascended to heaven.  Today, I’m finally scooping up the dozens of cards and condolences that have lined the dining room buffet as a solid reminder of how deeply he is missed, and tucking them away for safe keeping. It’s time to stand alone without those reminders. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss that boy.  Especially today. Today is as heavy as a year ago.

Looking back to a year ago, it wasn’t apparent that something was wrong at first.  We had a great weekend, me, Sundance and Coco celebrating my birthday, and making plans to celebrate his. Great weather for walks and patio time. It fills my heart to see them get so excited when I suggest we go to the Wort or go for a walk.

Sundance somehow becomes larger than life, bounding through the house, prancing and swinging his big fluffy head back and forth, mouth wide open smiling and rubbing against my legs, always ready to be leashed up to go.  And boy does he love to go. He trots alongside me with such grandeur, he holds himself in such a regal, proud manner.  It’s sheer joy to bring him out. He approaches people and dogs with grace, like an old gentle soul. He loves everyone.

With Coco, she literally leaps through the house, spinning circles to the back door, ready to go wherever we’re going. She is definitely on the fast track of life, in a hurry to get as much sniffing of area as possible, and as many butt scratches as are available from anyone we meet along the way.

The last few weeks with the record heat and humidity we hadn’t gone out except very early in the morning for a short walk. They were both so ecstatic when I said the words.  They were more than ready to accompany me on my birthday outings. Coco joined me for Friday breakfast, Sundance Saturday night music at the Wort, Sunday morning breakfast, and Coco Sunday night at the Wort. The two of them bring me so much joy.  So much joy. They gave me the best birthday.  They give me the best social life ever.

Monday July 7^th 2025 Scooting the dogs out for their 5:30AM pee before my Yoga Zoom class begins is usually a pretty exciting time.  Everyone’s ready to get out there. But today, Sundance and Coco were both moving slow.  Of course, with all that partying all weekend they were tired. So was I. So I didn’t think much of them being slow to get up, get out and get back in. All seemed to be good.  They had breakfast, and I was off to work for the morning.

Coming home midday, they were lazing in the living room, slow to get up and go out. I know it was hot out, the air was on, the fans were going, it was comfortable inside.  “Treats?” usually gets them moving, and it worked this time, too.

Sundance, in all his majestic glory, slowly raised up and pranced to me, wanting to dance. Big smile, rearing his head up and down, asking to dance. It gives me such joy to have this big hairy dance partner.  He dips his head down, steps between my legs, wiggle wiggles through, turns around quick, lays his head against my thigh and looks up at me, then does it all again. “Swing your partner, round and round.” Or something like that. We could do that little dance for an hour or more.  But today, he was over it after 3 passes.  That’s ok, I have to go back to work for the evening.

Dogs settled, and I was gone for the evening. When I came home again around 10pm, Coco was ready for outside, and Sundance…. slowly lifted up and headed out the door, for their last pee of the evening.

Things escalated so fast.

Wednesday July 9^th 2025 it really became apparent that something was very wrong. Everything happened so fast. Getting the dogs out for their 5:30AM pee was different.  Sundance just looked at me.  Didn’t want to stand up. Coco bolted out the door as always, but Sundance hung back. After getting Coco back in, Sundance slowly started getting up.  He seemed reluctant, or super tired, or something.  He went outside on his own while I was laying out my yoga mat and getting set up.  But then, he didn’t come back in. I went to the back door looking for him. There he was, struggling on the patio, he went lame, and I couldn’t hardly get him back into the house.  By the time I got him through the kitchen he completely lost ability to stand on his own. I cancelled my yoga classes.

And there it was, the beginning of the end.

I know in my state of panic I called my friend Laura for help, and while I waited for her to arrive I was on the phone trying to track down a place to take him.  My boss suggested the emergency Vet she used. When Laura arrived, we lifted him onto a blanketed tarp and carried him into her SUV, and headed to Allied Emergency where we spent about 7 hours running tests and waiting for results, only to be told in not so many words, nothing good or conclusive.

A twisted spleen? Tumors on the anus? Immune/Metabolic/Endocrine disease? They just weren’t exactly sure.  He’s old. He needs an internal medicine Doc. My mind drifted off to conversations I’d had with his original mom, long before she died.  We’d chat on the phone over cocktails a couple times a year, talking about travel and animals and getting older, and I remember her talking about a dog she had with so many health problems.  God was it Sundance? Or was that another dog? I know one of her fur babies had died, and she got the Apricot Poodle baby…how am I only remembering this now?

I thank the gods for Laura. Thank the gods she was there to actually hear and retain all of the information that was shared about Sundance’s symptoms and overall condition, as I was a useless pile of tears realizing I am just now recalling things I possibly should have, could have known.  Laura was amazing, she was my rock. She stood solid and decisive as I crumbled.  She took control and without a doubt held my hand through a day of heartbreak.

Sundance was so exhausted by the time Allied was done with him we had to wheel him out on a stretcher back to her vehicle. She helped me get him back inside the house and she stayed with us awhile afterwards, helping me get him comfortable, comforting Coco, and just sitting with us as I struggled with massive denial and inability to think straight.

They gave him fluids and drugs, and he’ll perk up from it all, but I need to make some hard fast decisions. I am so grateful for her. I cannot imagine what we would have done without her.  After she left I fell asleep on the floor next to him, and Coco next to me. I refused to give up on my boy.

Thursday morning, July10^th 2025 I am raw.  I am numb. I am terrified. After taking care of Coco’s morning needs it was a slow start with Sundance, hugging and stroking his beautiful face, looking into his big dark trusting eyes, and telling him not to give up.  It was a struggle to do anything but look into that precious face, let alone change out the potty pads Laura and I laid out under him Wednesday.  My man dog.  So alert, so eager, yet so unable to get up.

I brought him breakfast and pills, put on soothing music and sat hunched over a table in the living room, Google searching for Vet options on my laptop.  I called 6 different urgent care Vets trying to find one with an internal medicine doc that would see Sundance immediately.  Weeping and begging, it was so heartbreaking to be told no, there’s a 2 week, or 3 weeks, or more wait for an appointment, they need to run the tests that were just run yesterday first……aka another few thousand dollars to repeat exactly what we already know. He can’t wait 2 days let alone 2 or 3 weeks! My god to be held hostage by industry “procedures” and not be able to do anything about it. No one was available to perform the next required logical step. I cried so hard I couldn’t see my computer screen.

But I couldn’t give up. My boy was resting comfortably just a few feet away, so, I projected my screen to the TV and searched for disease symptoms, treatments, and alternatives for hours until I just couldn’t search anymore.  I still couldn’t find any better options. I flipped over to Face Book with the mute on for a little mindless distraction.  Advertisements, redundant sayings, political gibberish, mixed with a few hilarious little video clips of animals—none of which I have ever actually sought out, they simply appear on my feed.  Like, suddenly a WCCO Channel 4 video clip shows up, interviewing Rachel Mairose, from The Bond Between Animal Rescue, with a big scruffy whitish dog stealing the show. Instantly Sundance raises up his head and woofs at the TV, looks at me, looks back to the TV and woofs again.  I guess he knows a hot dog when he sees one.  I kept scrolling.

It was a long, frustrating day, with me failing over and over at finding a way to get Sundance to someone, somewhere, somehow, that could help heal him.  Times like this, I’m not even aware of how committed I can become, how driven I can get, and how desperate for control I am of something I have no control of.  I became so exhausted, physically and emotionally. The whole time, Coco laid there watching me, watching him. She is such a loving soul, curling up to him and then looking over to me.  It is astounding how intuitive dogs are.  She knew she needed to be the strong one, and she was there, for both of us.  I eventually joined them on the floor and fell asleep curled up around him on his cushions again. Holding onto my boy, come hell or high water.

Friday morning, July 11^th 2025 again, after a slow groggy start, I made the dogs their breakfast, let Coco out, changed Sundance’s potty pads and loved on him for awhile, watching his every move, hoping for improvement.  He is so alert!  He clearly wants to stand up, he just can’t.  So I encourage him, try to help him, but it’s impossible. Then I felt bad for trying. I wore him out in a matter of minutes, so I let him lay his head down and rest.

Again, I surfed the internet for hours, looking up various websites hoping for better answers to the prognosis we were given. Then at 12:30 I landed on the phone with Barb from the Michigan Poodle Rescue and had a long conversation with her about the general health characteristics of poodles, hoping she would tell me something other than the inevitable. I read to her all his diagnosis, told her everything I was told.

“He’s had a good life with you.”

NO! Almost 13 years old is NOT old enough!

Ohhh that grieving process.  Denial, denial, denial.

In the kindest way possible, she said when I was ready, there would be a dog for me.  For now, I’ve got to let him go.

Whaaaaat?  NO!  No, I can’t!

I went back to surfing the net, and eventually back to Face Book distractions.  Oddly, it was about 2PM that same Channel 4 video clip interview with Rachel showed up in my feed again. Instantly Sundance raises up his head and woofs, looks at me and woofs, tries to get up, tries to crawl toward TV. I couldn’t believe it!  That big scruffy dog on TV had him all excited and it filled me with hope! I rushed over to him, held him, kissed on him and assured him he’s a good boy and he’ll be just fine. He was clearly trying to tell me something.

I finally got him to settle down, got him back on his blankets and potty pads, gave him big drinks of water and we rested. I spoke with another Vet office and described what Sundance had done regarding the Face Book post we saw.  He looked so innocently alert. He seemed better, stronger, unaware of how sick he is, almost able to stand himself up.

The vet tech said it’s a false reading of improvement that occurs from the pain meds.  There’s no fixing him, let him go. That sent me right back down to the depths of despair. I cried and cried, wrestling with such overbearing heartache. Everyone is saying the same thing.  How is it so easy for everyone to give up on this amazing life?  Are they all right? Or are they all wrong?  Or am I selfishly the one who’s wrong?

Of course I am.

A huge wave of shame fell over me.  How could I put him through this? I pulled myself together into a moment of clarity and started a new search that brought me to Lap of Love.  Yes, they can come to the house.  Yes, it’s completely painless and humaine. Yes, I can change my mind. Yes, they can come on Sunday at 4:00.

Okay.  There it was. I am numb. I am second guessing this step. I am so grateful for the dozens of strangers that took the time to talk with me during this dreadful time. And sorry it took me so long to hear them. If not for those kind souls, I don’t know what I would have done. The Lap of Love people were the last voice of reason I had to hear. I confirmed the appointment, paced around the living room a few laps, then got down onto the floor in a daze, sitting with my resting boy, looking into his face, letting the hard realization fully hit that in two days I will be without him.

I am amazed at how deep into sadness I can go, and still breathe.  It was then, as I gasped for the next breath, that I finally found myself able to see how tired he truly was. He was ready, even if I wasn’t. How right it was to let go of him, allow him that loving peace of beyond “here”.  Am I strong enough for this?  I have to be. I wrapped an arm around him, and the other arm around Coco.  We are a family.  No matter what, we are family.  We got this.  Time stands still in grief, minutes feel like hours, hours feel like minutes.  Sunday felt like seconds away.

Not wanting to get up and do anything but be with them, I went back to mindless surfing Face Book, laughing at the silly AI chicken videos, cute baby animal clips, the dog groomer that specializes in doggie hair color art, and then, again, there was that scruffy dog news clip.  Suddenly, Sundance raised his head up and woofed.  Looked at me, woofed, looked at the TV and literally stomped his right front paw. Mind you, the sound was muted.  Still, my boy was putting his foot down, looking at me and saying I don’t know what, but he sure was adamant about it. I hugged him, agreed she was a cutie, and coaxed him back down to rest.  Coco even got excited this time.  It was so weird. Hours later, I tried to find that post again but couldn’t.

After our long dismal day, we curled up on the floor for the night and slept hard.

Saturday morning July 12^th 2025  I woke to Sundance’s labored breathing in my ear at 5AM.  What have I done? I can’t believe I made this decision. Tomorrow is too soon. I cuddled him and he picked his head up for a drink.  Changed his potty pads and proceeded to stare at him as though I’d somehow will him back to health.  I stared at him as though he would, or could give me a sign that he’s actually getting better.  But there were no signs.

He was tired. We were tired.  This is the beginning of the end, tomorrow is the day. I paced around the house, trying to wrap my mind around what that would look like, what about Coco, how can I get us all through this?

And then…OH my god Jancy is coming over to watch Sundance while I take Coco to the Vet!  I darted back and forth and tried to straighten up some of the chaos we were living in the middle of.  I felt so bad, having to leave him for an hour, I decided to make him the best meals ever from here on out.  Today will be a flat iron steak, tonight maybe a sirloin.

I put on some soothing music, opened up my laptop to the TV to check email, cooked, cut up and put his steak in front of him.  Confirmation for Lap of Love tomorrow, attachments, all the stuff.  Started scrolling Face Book while he devoured his grand meal.  All the nasty political crap, there’s the Michigan Poodle site with cute dogs I’m totally not interested in.  A dog food recipe…I am so very honored to be able to cook for my boy, AND Coco. They always love what I serve them, I’m so grateful to have someone to have meals with.

As he lapped up that flat iron steak, sure enough, again, what popped up on the TV?  That video news clip of The Bond Between, Rachel and that dog.  Sundance raised his head and woofed, looked at me, the TV and woofed like he was trying to say something.  He was so excited he tipped over his dinner bowl so I got down on the floor with him, he was no longer interested in steak.  We watched that news clip again together. I stroked his head and body, trying to soothe him as he wiggled around. He laid a paw on my leg, looked up at me with such a deep, trusting look, then back at the TV, pressing his paw into my leg.  And he woofed again. I don’t know what to think.  Coco is now sitting up at full attention looking at the TV, then at us, then the TV.  I’m beginning to feel really dumb. Like an outsider that doesn’t get the joke. Like what am I missing?

I clicked out of Face Book, ran a brush through his thick leg fur, got him fresh water that he gulped down, and soon, Jancy was at the door, arms wide open. She is, without a doubt, an enormously caring and compassionate person.  I am so grateful for her.  So grateful for her strength, her wisdom, her sensitivity, her support. I left Sundance in her care and took Coco to the Vet.

Moments after arriving to the Vet, Jancy called, sounding all urgent, saying it’s time, and I have to get back right away.  She knew about tomorrows plan.  She firmly suggested I not wait until tomorrow, for his sake. Ironically the Vet Staff was consoling me about Sundance and giving me all sorts of instructions for Coco’s eye, which they believed to be a treatable cyst, and it was all happening at once. Needless to say I peeled out of that office and got home faster than the speed of light.

Sundance had started releasing blood from his back end.  Jancy had made “the call” while I was on the way home. Yes, they are able to come today, between 3:30 and 4:00.  Lord I’m so indebted to Jancy for helping us through that block of time.  She was gentle, firm and so very kind. While she did have to leave us for another commitment I felt very cared for by her.  Thanks to her, for a few moments I actually felt rather calm, but I knew I didn’t want Coco and I to do this alone.

As Jancy left, instantly I called Laura.  And wouldn’t you know it, Sundance’s “internet girlfriend” was on the screen again.  He tried to lift his chest and crawl to the TV. Coco was all out of sorts about it, wild eyed and pacing.  I was simply baffled and trying to coax him back to his bed.

Then Laura came through the door bringing with her all the love and compassion she had, and held tight with us, like family does, waiting for the Lap of Love to help my boy ascend to the infinite beauty that lies beyond.  She helped me fluff up his bed and get him extra comfortable. I gathered his favorite toys around him. I made sure he enjoyed another big cool drink of water, wiped his chin, and loved on him. She gave Coco her eye drops, some good scritches and a belly rub.

Then came that fateful knock on the door. I was frozen in place holding my Man Dog.  Laura got up and escorted the composed, gentle mannered Hospice Vet Dr. Suzy into the room, and well, I still am unsure what transpired after that. Only that….

On Saturday, July 12^th 2025 at 3:58pm my sweet boy Sundance took his last breath into my arms.  We locked eyes.  I chanted to him. Praised him. Thanked him. Made promises to him. Told him how very very important he was and how much I loved him. He changed my life so epically. He was my everything. My Everything.  And I watched him go.  I felt him go. I let him go, yet that unbreakable bond, that connection remained. Time stood still. His presence filled the room and just as I felt my whole being draining, becoming hollow, he filled my heart.  Somehow, I knew, he was not done. He will be with me forever.

The level of care and respect he was given as we carried him to Dr. Suzy’s vehicle was every bit of honorable and dignified. He had a good life. He was lucky to have me.  He passed peacefully. It was the right thing to do. Just keep repeating all that.

And away Dr. Suzy went with my Man Dog.

Laura stayed with us for awhile, we talked about spirituality, and we sat in silence. Coco sat staring at the space where Sundance passed, with eyes wide, occasionally looking over to us. “She’ll be okay.  I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

“When’s the last time you ate?”

“Oh I dunno, maybe Tuesday?”

“God, girl, get some food.”

“Yeah I will.”

Thanking her for being there, we shared one last hug, she loved up on Coco a bit, and said her goodbyes.

And then, it was just Coco and I. She was wide eyed and confused. It was so quiet in the house, I could hear our breathing.  I closed my eyes and imagined my boy there with us. Rubbing up to my side with his favorite toy.  I held that toy in my hands and wept until Coco came and put a paw on my lap and I had no more tears left. I was simply numb. We stared off into space, stared at the bedding where he took his last breath, stared at each other, then curled up together on his bed and collapsed there for the night. Somehow it felt like he was there watching over us, and that felt so good.

Sunday July13^th 2025

As I pace around my home feeling the loss of Sundance this morning scrolling through our photo gallery and finally landing on random Facebook posts, I saw a post from The Bond Between Rescue:

Joy. Female 7 years old, 2,000 days without a family.

Wait. What?  That’s the dog that’s been on TV.  The dog Sundance went ape over! There it was, big on the TV screen.  Coco sprang up, came over and leaned into me.

ummmmmmmmm….wheels turning……….ummmmmmm…..

OMG I need to meet this dog!

I proceeded to send Rachael Mairose an email, basically saying I needed to have that dog,  I NEEDED to have her. I needed Joy!

She responded almost immediately, and within a couple days Coco and I were in St. Paul meeting Joy at the fosters home and it was an amazing instant connection. As though it was meant to be!

Boom, just like that on Sunday July 20^th 2025 I officially became Joys Foster to Adopt, and she came home with me.

So that’s our story. Through the tears, the heartbreak and the heaviness of loss, that is how my beloved Sundance most certainly made sure he brought Joy to us.

 

Thank you my love, my boy, thank you!