Navigating Love and Grief: Lessons from My Beloved Dog Bollo

Bollo: July 4, 2010-May 25, 2026

Before Bollo came into my life, my personal narrative was that I was too independent to care for a pet. I grew up with pets but never really felt like I was bonded in the same way my family members were. After years of loving Bollo, I reflect back on my childhood and wonder if I distanced myself from pets as a way to protect from loss or even just avoid the experience of emotional closeness. Either way, in 2014 I fell magically and deeply in love with an animal for the first time in my life and loved him fiercely until he departed this realm on May 25, 2026. I will continue to love him fiercely because I'm permanently tethered; he taught me more about how to love than any person, experience or book ever has.

I met Bollo when he was about 5 years old, after many years of diligent training and affection from his adoptive father, my future husband. Bollo was adopted from Craigslist (yes we are well into our 40s, I know this reference ages me) and listed as an "out of control" puppy. His original family had a hard time loving him the way he needed and kept Bollo couped up outside with little play or attention. I firmly believe that his original family are fundamentally good people who just didn't have the skills or the knowledge to support his needs. They had the integrity to understand he needed a different family and so began Bollo's adoption into his forever family when he was 6 months old.

Tales of his puppy wildness are legendary. Grand tumbles down steep hillsides, half eaten shoes, daring escapes out of screened in windows...he finally had space and permission to play, so he did. He acted out in all the ways you'd expect when you're raised inside a neglectful environment. He tested his father by breaking rules to see if he would be punished and confined to a lonely kennel.

Eventually, Bollo's trust in his environment won out over his fear of abandonment and so, the rules began to feel like safety and he started to understand the sacred language of being unconditionally loved. Overtime, he trusted that even when he misbehaved and scattered trash everywhere during a lonely tantrum, his father's consistent & firm response was a sign of love rather than the absence thereof. There was always an acknowledgment of the error, an opportunity for learning through consequence and a cuddly repair.

Because Bollo experienced such beautiful, loving attunement in the first 5 years of his life, he was an expert on love by the time I met him. I also believe that Bollo just had an innate part of his soul that possessed the enviable quality of loving without fear. He walked right up to me, fully leaned in and claimed me as his family. I claimed him right back.

Bollo was tender and measured in his affection. He leaned against legs, plopped into laps and if you were lucky, occasionally gave you kisses. My favorite was sitting down on the floor and watching him reverse right into my lap. He did this with everyone. He even did this with complete strangers, upset teenagers and aloof neighbors. He literally and figuratively leaned into love.

I took him to work with me almost every week for 5 years when I was a therapist at a wilderness program. He approached other people's pain with a deep, requited knowing and absolutely no fear of big emotions. In fact, he could always spot who was in the most emotional pain; he would walk right up to them with a readiness to love even if there was nothing in return. He wanted nothing more than to offer his presence so that those in pain would feel seen and known.

Bollo let me feel big feelings and still leaned in. In his early years, he put his head on the bed every morning to say hello. He protected us from bears, even when his body was failing him. He loved others when they didn't know how to love themselves. He loved for the sake of loving.

Bollo let us know late on Saturday night May 23rd that he was ready to leave this realm. We spent his final two days with friends & family cherishing him. He rallied and even played in our river with his sister, Iris, our 6 year old Viszla. We said goodbye through tears as our boy drifted into a peaceful forever sleep.

I'm 45 and like anyone else at this age, I have lived a pretty full life of joy, triumph, tragedy, heartache, loss and deep pain. I'm a mental health therapist and have been teaching emotions for over 15 years but this particular grief, the Bollo grief, is remapping what I know about love, connection and what really matters. As he was in life, his death is a magnifier of love.

Here's what I am learning and what I will leave you with for now:

• The Posture of Love is Leaning In (from now on called the "Bollo Lean").

• Everyone deserves to experience the love of a great dog.

• Love is not afraid.

• Love is not greedy or ambitious.

• Love does not expect anything in return.

• Nothing matters more in this life than the love we give and receive within our chosen communities.

• Love does not exist without grief, as everything in this world is impermanent.

As I continue navigating this grief, I'm leaning in, just like Bollo would, to see what the grief wants to teach me. For today, I know our human pain is always put into perspective when we let ourselves really and truly love. When we love, we can choose to absorb something infinite, pure and sacred that cannot ever be stolen by any worldly pain. Please show love today. And please join us for future blog posts as we explore more about the inescapable duality of our human emotions.