My First Post. Where to Begin?

I’ve always appreciated the quote from Seneca: “Every new beginning comes from another beginning’s end.” So, I’ll start this new beginning by honoring my most recent ending—paying tribute to Laz, my former partner and one of the great loves of my life.

Lazaretto du Fosseret

I knew from the moment he was five weeks old that Laz was my puppy. I saw him in videos and photos from the breeder, surrounded by his littermates, and I picked him out right away. There he was. I knew him immediately.

Laz and I met for the first time in a luxurious hotel at Charles de Gaulle airport, right outside of Paris. We spent nearly 24 hours in our own private world, just the two of us—playing, cuddling, and getting to know each other while waiting for our flight home to California. Even on the plane, Laz already understood his life’s mission. Or rather, he assigned himself one. From day one, he made it his job to serve and protect me.

I have the most adorable picture of him at the airport, just eight weeks and one day old, standing on a bench beside his tiny carrier, looking as earnest and brave as any puppy possibly could. It’s still my favorite picture of him.

Laz wasn’t just dutiful—he carried himself with a confidence and ease that blew my mind and, honestly, carried me along at times. Especially when it came to our sport of choice: French Ringsport.

As a longtime companion and shelter dog trainer, dog sports were outside my expertise. I was an incredibly self-conscious handler in the beginning. But Laz? He knew he’d been born for it. He had enough self-assuredness for both of us. He stayed calmly focused during training, holding us together until, a few years in, I finally trusted him—and our partnership—enough to relax, tune in, and appreciate the beauty and complexity of French Ring with my best friend. His steady presence changed my life, and for that, I will be forever grateful.

Laz left us in October 2024 after a brief but raging illness. He was only nine and a half—far too soon for such a magnificent soul. But we packed several lifetimes’ worth of love, adventure, and lessons into our time together.

Lessons. Or Rather, Gifts.

Because isn’t every lesson a gift of sorts?

For me, dog training has never been just about teaching a dog to respond to cues. It’s an extension of Life With Dog—a phrase you’ll hear from me often. Training isn’t just skill-building; it’s a life-enhancing opportunity. A deepening of understanding. A master course in communication.

The best training happens when learning is happening at both ends of the leash. It’s about overcoming challenges, experiencing joy through clarity and collaboration, and finding beauty in the process—the cross-species communion.

It’s impossible to ever get bored and difficult to even get frustrated when training a dog if you look at it this way. 

My hope is that whenever you feel discouraged in training, you’ll think of baby Laz—standing so small yet so determined—and smile. May Laz remind you to always find joy in the communion of partnership with these magnificent beings we’re so lucky to share our lives with. May Laz’s greatest gift to me, also be my gift to you.