There Were Times I Didn’t Know How I’d Get Through the Next Day
A few years ago, it felt like I had lost everything.
I had recently escaped a toxic relationship. My health had suffered. I had lost my mum to Alzheimer’s. I had lost two amazing dogs who had been part of my life for many years. Eventually, I lost my home and, somewhere along the way, I felt like I had lost my identity too.
At 55 years old, I found myself trying to start over from scratch. Some days felt hopeless. Looking back now, I honestly don’t think I would have navigated those years in the same way without this dog.
Her name is Saffy.
I’ve had dogs in my life since I was nine years old and I’ve loved every single one of them. But after losing my previous dogs and finding myself living alone, I wasn’t sure I could take on the responsibility of another.
I was working full time. I didn’t have close family nearby. I knew doggy daycare would take a significant chunk out of my budget. Logically, it didn’t make much sense. But sometimes life isn’t about logic.
For months, I found myself looking at adverts for Golden Retriever puppies. I would browse through them, then close the page and tell myself it wasn’t the right time. Then one morning I saw an advert that simply said:
“Golden Retriever puppies ready now.”
Something about it felt different. Instead of talking myself out of it again, I picked up the phone. A few hours later, I was sitting on the floor of a breeder’s home surrounded by eleven Golden Retriever puppies. As soon as they were let out of their enclosure, ten of them ran off together, chasing each other and playing.
One didn’t.
One puppy ignored all of her littermates and came straight towards me. She climbed onto my lap as if she had already made her decision.
That puppy would become Saffy.
There was never really a choice to make. She had chosen me.
Later, when I got home, I discovered something that stopped me in my tracks. Saffy had been born on the 6th of April. The exact same day I had moved into my new home and started the next chapter of my life. Maybe it was coincidence. Maybe it wasn’t. But at the time, it felt like a sign that we were meant to find each other. What I didn’t know then was just how important she would become. Because over the years that followed, Saffy would help me through some of the hardest chapters of my life.
Everything was still very raw when Saffy came into my life.
I spent my days working and my evenings living in the past, replaying old conversations, questioning old decisions, and wondering how my life had ended up looking so different from the one I had imagined. I was afraid of the future and caught between endless “what ifs.” I had started my healing journey, but if I’m honest, it wasn’t going very well. I was at rock bottom, struggling to come to terms with everything life had thrown at me. My confidence was gone, and my self-worth wasn’t much better.
Then Saffy arrived.
She Taught Me How to Live Again
Almost overnight, the house felt different. I found myself laughing every single day. I smiled constantly as I watched her clumsy antics and her endless curiosity about the world around her.
There was the time she decided she was actually a cat and somehow managed to climb onto Hetti’s cat tree, where she proudly lay looking completely pleased with herself.
There was her first attempt at climbing the stairs, which was far less graceful than she imagined it would be.
And then there was puppy training.
Most dogs are motivated by treats.
Not Saffy.
If she decided she’d had enough, she’d simply turn around and walk away from me as if to say, “This is boring now. I’m done.”
And the socks…
To this day, I have absolutely no idea what happened to half of them. Somewhere out there is a secret collection of missing socks that only Saffy knows about.
Little by little, without me even realising it, she started bringing light back into a life that had felt very dark. “At the time, I thought I was teaching Saffy how to navigate the world. Looking back, I think she was teaching me how to live in it again.”
Once we started going out for walks, it quickly became obvious that Saffy loved attention.
Now, you might be thinking, “Well, everyone loves puppies.”
But what surprised me was that nothing changed as she got older. There has always been something about Saffy that people are drawn to. I remember one gentleman stopping to stroke her and saying, “She’s the happiest dog in Northumberland.”
To be honest, he might have been right.
Saffy has always had her own way of doing things. One of her more unusual habits is carrying two balls in her mouth at the same time. If you only throw one ball, she looks at you as if you’ve completely misunderstood the game and refuses to retrieve it. You have to throw both, one after the other.
Most dogs remember who carries treats in their pockets. Saffy remembers who gives her the most fuss.
She has an incredible ability to make people smile. The amazing thing is that she didn’t just bring joy into my life. She seemed to bring it into the lives of everyone she met.
And somewhere along the way, something unexpected happened. The more I walked with Saffy, the more my confidence started to return. People would stop and talk to us. Conversations started naturally. Faces became familiar.
Slowly, I went from feeling alone and unseen to making new friends and feeling connected again. Without realising it, I was spending less time dwelling on the past and worrying about the future.
Instead, I found myself becoming more present.
After all, when you’re walking beside a dog who finds pure joy in every stick, every puddle and every new smell, it’s hard not to live in the moment.
The past was gone. The future no longer felt quite so frightening.
My Angel
When Saffy was younger, she had two white markings on either side of her body, just behind her shoulders. I used to joke that they were the places where her wings had been clipped before she came to me.
From that moment on, she became known as my angel.
Looking back now, perhaps there was more truth in that joke than I realised at the time.
Saffy is three years old now, and in many ways, the last three years have completely changed how I see life. She taught me how much lighter life feels when you stop living in the past and worrying about the future. She taught me that some of the happiest moments can be the simplest ones.
A walk on a sunny morning.
Watching the sea.
A quiet moment sitting together at the end of the day.
The things that bring us the most joy are often the things that cost nothing at all.
Over time, I began to realise that many of the things I had spent years chasing weren’t actually what made me happy.
The promotions.
The titles.
The idea of security.
They all have their place, but none of them brought me the peace I was looking for.
But perhaps the biggest lesson Saffy taught me was this:
Life is precious.
A dog’s life is heartbreakingly short compared to ours. Yet they seem to understand something that many of us forget. They don’t waste time dwelling on yesterday. They don’t spend their lives worrying about tomorrow. They throw themselves wholeheartedly into today.
Every walk.
Every adventure.
Every cuddle.
Every moment.
And somewhere along the way, I realised I wanted to live more like that too.
That realisation changed more than my outlook on life. It gave me the courage to make the biggest decision I had ever made. After spending decades building a career, I chose to walk away and start Soothesoul.
Was it risky?
Absolutely.
There are no guarantees in life.
But by then, Saffy had already taught me something I couldn’t ignore.
None of us know how much time we have.
Life isn’t meant to be watched from the sidelines.
It’s meant to be lived.
And I would rather look back and say, “I tried,” than spend the rest of my life wondering, “What if?”
When Life Tested Us Again
Recently, our journey took an unexpected turn.
For a while, I knew something wasn’t quite right. Saffy wasn’t moving as freely as she once had. There were little signs that most people probably wouldn’t notice, but when you know someone as well as I know Saffy, you notice the small changes. After investigations and X-rays, we finally got some answers.
Saffy has hip dysplasia, and she also has areas in her spine that never fully fused as she grew.
Hearing those words was difficult. Like many dog owners, part of me wanted the tests to show nothing at all. I wanted someone to tell me she was fine. That she would be back to her usual self tomorrow.
But life doesn’t always work that way.
Over the last few weeks, there have been moments that have broken my heart. Watching her struggle with things that once came so naturally. Seeing her uncomfortable. Wanting to take the pain away and knowing I can’t simply fix it.
But through all of this, something else has become very clear to me.
For years, Saffy has been there for me.
When I felt lost.
When I felt alone.
When I needed a reason to get out of the house.
When I needed a reason to smile.
She never asked for anything in return.
She simply showed up every day with the same enthusiasm, loyalty and unconditional love.
Now the roles have changed. Now it’s my turn.
My turn to slow down when she needs to slow down.
My turn to be patient.
My turn to support her through the difficult days.
My turn to give back some of the love she has given me so freely over the last three years.
Of course, I wish things were different. I wish she didn’t have to face these challenges at such a young age. But if there’s one thing Saffy has taught me, it’s that happiness isn’t found in perfect circumstances. It’s found in making the most of the moments we have.
So that’s exactly what we’re going to do.
We’ll keep taking our walks.
We’ll keep chasing balls — probably two at a time.
We’ll keep finding joy in the simple things.
And we’ll keep making memories together.
Because if there’s one thing this incredible dog has taught me, it’s that life isn’t measured by how long something lasts.
It’s measured by the love, joy and meaning we create along the way.
I don’t know what the future holds for either of us.
But I do know this.
Some of the most important lessons I’ve ever learned about love, resilience, healing and living in the present came from a Golden Retriever called Saffy.
My friend.
My teacher.
My angel.
And for that, I will be grateful for the rest of my life.
