Moose & Friends

11/23/2025

Callie tries so hard. Bless her heart. 🤣

02/05/2025

She tried. She really tried.

04/29/2024

📣 We are starting to plan for our favorite client appreciation event where we rent out a waterpark and spend time with just YOU (and up to 799 other guests... hahaha). Save the date, more deets to come! 😁😍

09/01/2023

Callie is a Disney princess? Of course she is. 😂

Check out Steve Webb's video.

07/21/2023

(Trigger warning: images of pet euthanasia)

Moose was a phenomenal dog. We adopted him from Sooner Golden Retriever Rescue shortly after we were married. He was an important part of our family, bringing together the blended messiness and creating home. We promised him long ago we wouldn’t let him suffer. And, we knew it was time to keep our promise.

We also knew we wanted to be fully present in his celebration of life, in the joy he brought to us, in the Last Day, and in our final goodbye while still capturing the beauty of the moments. So, as weird as it felt, we asked our family photographer, Sara Hurt, if she would accompany us. She’s a softie, and we knew what a big ask this was and that she would cry the whole time. Still, she said yes without hesitation.

We called Lap of Love and scheduled his Rainbow Bridge Crossing for 1pm at our house on July 5th. And then we called friends and family to make his Last Day one worthy of The Moose.

First, we went to Steven & Emily’s house where Moose could swim in a sea of tennis balls. He fell getting in. But he didn’t care. He would do anything for a swim… I think they’re still cleaning hair out of their filters. 😘

Then we stopped by Arby’s to grab his favorite roast beef sandwiches. Four for ten bucks- they must have known he was coming. 🤣 We headed to the park – where he had taken many walks back in his younger years – and he devoured three of the sandwiches. Hoozagoodboy?!

Then, we stopped off at Yellow Dog Coffee Company where Rob and Sereta did what they do best- they made us feel like family. When they heard Moose was coming in for his Last Day Latte, they asked staff and patrons to gather and greet him like royalty, which they did, and Moose ate up the attention…and the whipped cream. There were laughs, tears, and hugs from strangers. There was community and connection. There was celebration.

And finally, we came back home so we could spend a little time just being with him. He was tired. He was ready to rest.

The kids said their goodbyes and went to friends’ houses. A huge thank you to Alicia and Lisa for creating that safe space for the kids.

The vet arrived and was so tender and kind, full of compassion. The experience was incredible and Moose got to cross the Bridge in his own home, surrounded by Love.

We opted for a private cremation and he should return home soon, to take his place on the shelf with the others that devoted their entire lives to making our family complete.

I wasn’t sure I would share these. But I want you to know there was a dog named Moose. And I want you to know how deeply grateful I am to have known and loved him. To have been loved by him.

And, I hope I can encourage someone to celebrate and make it a big effin’ deal on Last Day. They deserve it.

There are so many of you I’d love to tag and thank for your texts, calls, cards, and love. They meant the world to us. ❤️

📷 Sara Biese Hurt with Sara's Photo Creations, llc

07/05/2023

Hi, Moose. It’s me, your dad. You crossed the rainbow bridge a couple of hours ago and I’m sitting in the living room, listening to the quiet, pondering your life. I’m wondering how to describe you to people who – much to their misfortune – never had the opportunity to meet you.

Your physical size was always what people remembered about you. And though you were a giant and downright regal to look at, it’s the sounds I will remember most.

The clicking of your hooves, I mean toenails, on the tile floor. The tumultuous sloshing of water as you drank from the water dish. The squeak of your dinner plate-sized tongue pre-rinsing the dishes (thank you for your “help” with that).

Some of your sounds were annoying and even downright rude. The way you burped after every meal and licked ALL of your pack-mates’ food bowls after they were done, y’know, just in case they missed some. Your farts. Oh, the humanity, your farts were horrific. And don’t get me started on the morning hurka-gurkas (if you know, you know) or, worse, the incessant slobbering, squishy, smacking sound in the middle of the night of you licking who-knows-what-body-part in the wee hours of the morning.

When you were young, your sounds were awe-inspiring. Your deep, commanding bark – always as the referee, restoring law and order – and never a menacing growl. The way your barrel chest nearly echoed when I patted it. The funny whistle your nose made when you swam, always holding one or two tennis balls in your mouth.

But then you got older and the sounds changed. The quick and agile clicking of toenails became scrapes as your hips failed you. The resigning exhale of fatigue as you plopped down against a wall to support you. The shallow panting for what seemed like hours after only a brief walk.

The last sound I remember is my heart breaking while looking into your chocolate brown eyes and saying goodbye.

And now the silence is deafening.