A Birthday Reflection: Thank You, Dog

Kelly with her dog Charlie Brown

Today’s post is a little more personal.

It’s my birthday. I’m spending it alone in Costa Rica, working with a beloved client I’ve known for years. I first trained their dog when she was a tiny puppy—my Puppy Training Program has always been one of the things I love most—and now, five years later, they needed help again. So here I am. That kind of trust and lifelong relationship is a return honor in this work, and I don’t take it lightly.

But today, they’re away for the weekend. I have two full days off in this tropical paradise and not a single dog by my side. And while I’m someone who thrives on solitude—I really do love and need my alone time—today I feel a little lonely.

Maybe it’s the birthday itself. My birthdays have always carried a strange emotional weight. Even as a child, I remember not really wanting to be celebrated. I was never completely comfortable being the center of attention, even when the celebration was full of love. 

So today, I’m reflective.

I’ve been on this planet for more than five decades now. And the one constant throughout every season of my life has been dogs.

Dogs have been my companions, my confidants, my muses, my mirrors, and my most joyful playmates.

They’ve kept me grounded in sorrow and buoyed me in joy.

They’ve been the reason I got out of bed on hard days.

They’ve made me financially independent.

They’ve made me strong.

And perhaps most beautifully of all—they’ve brought me to you.

Because of dogs, I’ve had the fortune of building a career around something that feels sacred to me: helping others learn to connect more deeply, more compassionately, and more clearly with the animals they love. My job is not just to train dogs—it’s to witness the bond, to translate between species, and to help people build relationships that heal and grow both ways.

I’m profoundly grateful for every person dogs have brought into my life—every client, every student, every colleague, every friend.

Every curiosity we’ve explored together, every triumph we’ve celebrated, every tear we’ve shed, every moment of insight.

You are my people.

So even here, without a dog in my lap or a person by my side, I’m not really alone.

I walk along the beach and see dogs everywhere—romping through the surf, lounging under tables at beachside cafés, play-bowing at strangers. And I’m still surrounded by that special kind of presence. I feel held by them, even now.

Thank you, dogs.

Thank you for always having my back.

Thank you for keeping me alive.

Thank you for giving me purpose.

Thank you for making me better.

And thank you to the dog people—my community—for walking this path with me.

With a full heart,

Kelly