There was a day…

There was a day I almost quit.

Not because I stopped loving it
but because I didn’t know if my heart could take it anymore.

It was Story’s first litter.

I was so excited.
So prepared.

And then life reminded me how fragile this calling really is.

We lost two puppies.

They were only 13-14 days old.

Two tiny souls I held in my hands and begged to stay.

I did everything I could.
Sleepless nights.
Alarms every hour.
Sub-q fluids.
Checking temps.
Syringe feeding.
Praying.
Crying.
Hoping.
But sometimes…
love just isn’t enough.

And it hurts in a way that’s hard to explain.
Because you know when they’re slipping.
You hear the little cries soft at first,
then desperate…
and that panic just builds in your chest until you can hardly breathe.

Those 3 a.m. moments will haunt me forever.
Sitting on the floor, hands shaking, tears pouring down my face,
praying over their tiny bodies, begging God-
“Please, please let them live. Please let them stay here with me.”
And you whisper it again and again like maybe if you love them hard enough, He’ll hear you louder.

When the second one slipped away, something inside me cracked.
The room was quiet except for Story’s breathing,
and I just sat there and sobbed that deep, broken kind of cry that takes everything out of you.
I kept thinking, what did I miss? what could I have done differently?

That kind of loss changes you.

It makes you doubt everything your ability, your purpose, your heart.

For days, I barely slept.
Every tiny whimper had me running to check the others, terrified I’d lose another.

I hovered.
I watched.
I weighed.

I worried until my body ached.

Even when they finally started to thrive, my heart never really relaxed.

That litter broke me in ways and built me in others.

It showed me how something you love so much can heal you and destroy you at the same time.

People see the sweet moments.
The photos of sweet newborns.
The mama curled up around her babies.
The peaceful whelping box.
But they don’t see this side.
The heartbreak.
The helplessness.
The prayers whispered into the quiet when nobody’s watching.

That was the day I almost quit.
Because the pain felt heavier than the joy.

Because I wasn’t sure if I could keep loving this hard knowing I could lose this deeply.

But then I looked at the four that made it.

I watched them grow stronger, happier, and full of life.

I realized that even though my heart was shattered, the love was still there.

Still fierce.
Still faithful.
Still willing.

That litter taught me more than anything else ever could.

That sometimes doing everything right still isn’t enough.

That love doesn’t always mean we get to keep them
but it always means they were loved while they were here.

I didn’t quit.
I came close, though.
Closer than I ever had before.

But those tiny souls. the ones I lost and the ones who lived reminded me why I started.

Because even through the heartbreak, the sleepless nights, and the tears.
this is where my heart belongs.
Right here.
Loving them.
Raising them.
And honoring every single life that passes through my hands.

In remembrance of Honey & Sugar
12.29.24 - 1.10.25 & 1.11.25

I still think about you, sweet girls.
I wonder what you’d look like now, how many smiles you’d bring, and what families you would’ve completed.

But I like to think some little boy or girl in Heaven needed puppies too, & God handpicked you for them.