The Road to Grumble Farm

08/30/2026

I’m not ready to lose her.

Nothing is wrong, but she turns 16 in just a couple of months.

Losing Jonas was the singular hardest and most painful thing I’d ever experienced in my life, but I somehow managed to create something beautiful out of it. I was also in a much more stable chapter of my life to navigate the pain of grief and loss.

Losing Ivy was brutal, because I couldn’t believe that Fern would be without her sister. I also lost Ivy during a period of severe instability and uncertainty in my own life, which I am still currently in.

And now, can’t stop thinking about having to say goodbye to Fern. The anticipatory grief is near-crippling.

Her and I have bonded so incredibly close, just the two of us in this scary, lonely world of ours.

She’s the last remaining thread to my old life with Jonas, Fern and Ivy in the Kootenays, and I’m simply just not ready to let it go. I’m afraid I’ll never feel that happiness ever again.

I’ve never told a dog that they can’t go, or that I don’t know what I’ll do without them.

I’ve always whispered in their ear that it’s okay if it was their time to go, and promised them that I would be okay. I needed them to know that they didn’t need to hang on for me, and that they certainly didn’t need to worry about me at all. That was my job.

But I don’t have the strength for that anymore, with her.

I hold her softly and I cry into her ear, please just stay.

Please, please just stay.

You’re all I have, and I really don’t know who I am without you, or where I’m going in this life without you, either.

Since Ivy died, she has become my everything.

She is my sole reason for waking up in the morning, and the only reason I’ve been hanging on.

It’s her. Everything is her.

Who I am I when she is no longer around?

Where do I belong in this world without her by my side? 💔

08/30/2026

08/28/2026

Oh, to be back on B.C. soil 🐻

One of the things I missed the most about British Columbia over the past six months was living with the bears! I’m so happy to be back amidst them, even though they’re very much getting ready to hibernate for the winter.

I was walking one of the dogs I’m currently sitting out here in the Kamloops area yesterday, down an unfamiliar forest trail nearby. I was suddenly overcome with anxiety about running into a moose or a bear or a mountain lion or SOMETHING scary, and immediately turned around to get back to the house. I don’t have very much confidence when I’m trail walking or hiking alone in the mountains, because one of my biggest fears is having a solo confrontation with an animal that could hurt me.

I certainly do love watching them from the car, though. Isn’t he/she beautiful, with that fuzzy white patch on their chest? I could have sat here for hours, but I was in a rush to get Fern to a vet appointment and had to say goodbye sooner than I wanted to 👋

08/28/2026

Back in March, my good friend and farm sitting client Jade Dykstra (founder of Lasting Strides Equine Assisted Learning in Delacour, AB) invited me to come hang out at her ranch while one of her goats was in active labour.

I only shared this experience to my stories at the time, because I’m still feel uncomfortable sharing things that aren’t entirely pug-focused to this page, even though life has been leading me in a different direction for quite a while.

I have been farm sitting full-time for six full months, now. Choosing to do this was very intentional, as I wanted to continue learning all different aspects of rural, farming, and homesteading life after a series of unfortunate events resulted in my two senior pugs and I loosing our home and the life we had come to love so very, very deeply.

I had to give up every single thing that I had fought so hard to find, but I simply wasn’t willing to give up the work or the type of environment that literally saved my life — working with and around animals, in spaces that are as far away from the city as possible.

When I first set out being fully nomadic with Fern and Ivy without a home to call our own six months ago, I called the journey The Road to Grumble Farm, intending to share the ups and downs of our journey as each day passed.

The experiences I’ve had so far are mind-boggling. I never really give myself enough credit for what I managed to pull off to avoid true homelessness, or — possibly even worse — finding myself stuck in the same city that nearly killed me. I knew I had to find a way to avoid returning to the shadows, even in the face of every obstacle laid out in front of me at the time.

I don’t know how much of this makes any sense. My story has always been far too big to fit into bite-sized pieces here on Instagram, and a lot of the time it feels like nobody’s really listening anyway.

Anyway, Jade named the triplets Brandy, Cam, and Ryley, after me and my own two younger siblings. How cute is that? I’ll literally never forget it 🙏🐐🐐🐐

08/26/2026

Fern & I are currently sitting Munster (and his sister, Sugar) at a beautiful cabin property located near Kamloops, British Columbia 🌲

Fern had a stroller buddy (Munster, 14) as we toodled around lake trails with The Boy With the Big Red Truck, who’s here visiting us all to say hello ❤️

I’m so happy to be back in British Columbia for the foreseeable future, but I’m also feeling very scared.

All I know is that I’m meant to be here, or at the very least, that I would give up most anything to be here, anyway. My love for this province knows no bounds, and it’s so hard to explain to people who simply don’t understand what it feels like to be away from a place you love so much.

Either which way, I’m just so lucky that my little girlie goo is still right here with me for now, wherever the wind blows us ❤️

07/24/2026

I gave her some instructions from us all. 🧡

06/21/2026

Oh, that final night…

You’re simultaneously hyper aware of time, yet time ceases to exist.

For both Jonas and Ivy’s deaths, when I was aware of the end-of-life, I did actually sleep.

I didn’t think I was going to, but I did. We did our night time routine as usual. And when I woke up, things felt normal for a split second before I remembered what a significant day it was.

The night before, I try to think of their Rainbow Bridge day as a celebratory farewell.

A goodbye party to celebrate the beginning of a new journey where the most normal thing to say is, “I’m so proud of you, have fun! I can’t wait to see you again”.

That final night, I did tell her I was proud of her. Proud of her for being so brave and so strong. Proud of her for never complaining. Proud of her for letting me know it was time.

I thanked her, endlessly. For everything.

And most of all, I told her over and over and over again that I was going to be okay. It’s so important to me that they know that.

Rather than “please don’t go”, “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you,” “I’m never going to get over losing you”…

Rather than making it about me and my pain…

I told her,

Don’t worry about me, Ivy.

You taught me how to be so strong.

I was here for you through it all, and I’m not giving up now.

I’ve got you.

You’re doing so good, sweetheart.

When I woke up on Ivy’s death day, I rolled over to her lying in her little bed and I said,

“Ivy, today’s your big day!!” with the energy of Christmas morning.

It was her day to be so free.

To feel a freedom that none of us will experience until it’s our big day, too. 🌈🐾✨

All goes onward and outward

Nothing collapses

And to die is different than what any one supposed

And luckier.

06/19/2026

When I was still in the throes of decision paralysis regarding Jonas’ end of life three years ago, I remember feeling like there was a missing piece when it came to achieving assuredness and clarity for what I was supposed to do.

My journey involved very intentionally microdosing 🍄 during this time to help expand and open my mind to possibilities and perceptions beyond my limited understanding.

And one day, when I was in the shower, I was trying to figure out what it was I felt I needed to take the right next step.

I had already talked to the veterinarians, to the vet techs, to the grief counselors, to my therapist, to my Mom, to my close friends, and to my partner at the time. They all helped immensely, each playing their own individual role on my support team.

In my mind’s eye, I began visualizing a ring or a circle. It was a Rainbow Ring, which is beautiful because rainbows are geometrically a complete 360 degree circle that we can only see an arch of from the ground.

To see the full circle, you have to look at it from a higher vantage point, which is exactly what I was trying to do.

That’s when I remembered that there was a very important person I had left out from my support team — my Reiki teacher, Geneva Robins, founder of Luna Holistic.

As soon as I got out of the shower, I booked an appointment for a session.

And after our time together, with Jonas in my lap… the last part of the “Rainbow Ring” clicked into place and became a portal 🌈💫🐾

I continued using 🍄 throughout my grieving process after Jonas’ sacred sendoff.

I remember saying no to everyone and everything and hiking through the forest in search of solace along Kootenay Lake’s beautiful north shores.

I starfished on the sand, letting the earth absorb my body entirely as I said his name over and over and over again…

I just wanted to be where he was, and I knew that’s where I’d find him again. But we’ll leave that for another conversation 💙

05/30/2026

Fern keeps getting “stuck” in this floor mirror at the place we’re currently staying.

At first I thought it was kinda funny, but when I watched this back, my heart broke a little bit.

Because wherever Ivy went, it’s elusive. It *is* like a bit of a mirror in that there’s definitely something there, right in front of you, but it proves to be physically impossible to reach.

I know the majority of you following along with Ivy’s end-of-life are curious about Fern, and how she’s doing without her sister. And if I’m being honest, I don’t know. I do know what to look for, in terms of trying to understand how she’s feeling. And last night, before bed, she got a burst of energy that had her zooming around the apartment, so I played with her, running around and encouraging her to follow me. She was smiling from ear to ear and her tail was up and wagging, and she had that funny, crazy look in her eyes that showcased her own spirit, alive and well.

I can already tell our relationship, our bond, is deepening now that it’s just the two of us. It’s a very special and intimate feeling, and although I know (and understand) why most people seek out a replacement dog to fill the void after loss while keeping the anticipatory grief of loosing the “last one standing” at bay… simply unable to bear the mere thought of being alone… I’m so grateful for this new and unique experience of love with as it unfolds, and I really hope we get the time to bask in it’s glory together. But any time at all will do.

Maybe Ivy is on Fern’s mind as she faces this mirror. Maybe she saw her sister in her own reflection, and was frustrated she couldn’t figure out a way to get to her. But maybe I’m projecting my own human experience onto her little puggy one, I don’t know. I personally believe that dogs are far more spiritually evolved than us and don’t fear death the way we do, which is why I always follow their lead. 🧡❤️💙