
Writing for this blog is one of my favorite things. I love the idea that I can see how I document my thoughts, projects, and plans over the years for as long as I have this website. Today’s post however is not about my favorite chairs or the latest room renovation I am helping someone plan, but about something a lot more personal. It felt like it was the right time to write about a tiny family member we lost earlier this year at LPI.
Lucky came into my lifeyears ago when I met my husband. He was scruffy, blind, energetic, a barker, and had a particular skill for jumping extraordinarily high and twisting mid-air whenever you called him a good boy. He was a rescue puppy my husband had saved a few years before after learning he was to be put down because of his blindness.

I had never properly lived with a dog before and was incredibly nervous that it would be hard to like and enjoy living with a creature that pooped by mistake in my kitchen within minutes of his first visit. His blindness made it almost impossible to train him properly, and even expert dog trainers thought Lucky was best left to his own devices. However, it took exactly two hours before I fell for him and the ability to dress him in the tiny sweaters, tops, and hats he was absolutely unsure about for the rest of his little life.
When we recently discovered that he was sick and would not recover, it was an unexpected blow. As he was my first pet, I did not know how to prepare emotionally for the experience of letting go of a dog that I had come to love so deeply, so I did what I was used to during the short time we had left – I bought him a ton of outfits! During his last week, as he cuddled with us on the couch, cuddled with us in bed, and nestled on our laps as we worked from home, amid constant hugs and kisses, he let me dress him in stylish Polos, crew-necks, and snazzy bow ties. I think he knew I needed to pamper him as much as possible.
My little love passed away on March 12th, well-loved, valued and wearing his prettiest sweater. I will forever be grateful for the life he allowed us to create with him over the years and hope that one day when I chat about him, I can do so without my eyes watering and instead remember all his happy moments. Like this one:-)
R.I.P. Luckster

Leave a Reply