“When Life Happens: What My Dog Taught Me About Choosing Love”

There are moments in life that arrive without warning,
moments we never planned for, never invited, and never imagined would become turning points.
They come like a sudden crosswind, shifting everything in an instant.

Rocky’s injury was one of those moments.

Rocky is my eight-year-old Australian Shepherd, a wild spirit, a forest runner, a creature made of joy and movement. Every day, he races through the woods with me, nose to the ground, heart open to the world,
chasing scents, shadows, and the freedom he was born for.

But that day… he didn’t come back.

One moment, he was running through the trees,
wild and free as always. The next, the forest went silent.

He had vanished.

My inner world turned upside down.
Panic rose from somewhere deep, ancient, instinctual. The five “W” questions spun in my mind:

Where is he?
What happened?
When will he return?
Who can help me find him?
Why didn’t I hear him call out?

Hour after hour passed.
I walked the neighborhood, calling his name.
I drove the roads, searching the ditches.
I stood at the edge of the woods, listening for the smallest sound, a bark, a whimper, the crack of a branch.

Nothing.

Night came.
And then another.

The silence became its own kind of grief.

I imagined the worst…injury, cold, fear, the possibility that he might never return. My heart broke and rebuilt itself a hundred times in those thirty-four hours of not knowing.

Then, without warning,
as if life itself opened a door,
Rocky walked into the house.

Alive.
Exhausted.
And terribly injured.

His leg was twisted and swollen.
Deep cuts wrapped around his body.
His fur was matted with dirt and dried blood.

I fell to the floor and held him,
relief and heartbreak braided together.
And in that moment, I knew:

✨Life had just handed me a choice I was not prepared to make.

This is where the world split.

Everyone had an opinion —
strong ones, loud ones, practical ones, fearful ones.

“Put him down.”
“Do the surgery.”
“Amputate.”
“It’s too expensive.”
“He’s just a dog.”
“Think of your future.”
“Be realistic.”
“Don’t get attached.”

The noise of society gathered around me like a storm.

But beneath all that noise, something softer — quieter — asked me a different question:

🖤 X-RAY IMAGE - the truth hiding beneath his fur

Rocky’s elbow was completely dislocated and fractured in several places; the type of injury that should have taken his spirit.
It didn’t.

🌸 WHAT DOES LOVE CHOOSE?

Not duty.
Not fear.
Not pressure.
Not practicality.

Just love.

So I sat with that question.

I looked at Rocky —
not as a burden, not as a responsibility,
not as a decision I had to rationalize —
but as a being I love deeply.

And I realized something essential:

He is not “just a pet.”
He is a mirror.

His wildness is my wildness.
His joy is my joy.
His need for freedom is my need for freedom.
His vitality is the same fire I carry.

He reflects the part of me that refuses to shrink,
the part that insists on living fully,
the part that still believes in life even when it hurts.

Through him, I saw myself.

And because I saw myself,
I saw the answer:

Rocky wanted to live.
And I wanted to honor that life.

Not because I was trying to save the world.
Not because I felt obligated.
But because choosing love — real love —
is choosing truth.

Love expands.
Love becomes clear.
Love becomes grounded, fierce, and tender at the same time.
Love shows us who we are when everything else falls away.

🐾I chose him.

Not because it was convenient.
Not because it made financial sense.
Not because anyone told me to.
But because he is part of US —
my little family, my heart, my home.

And choosing him meant choosing
the woman I have become:

A woman who does not shrink.
A woman who does not abandon her truth.
A woman who builds her life with courage.
A woman who follows her alignment, even when others do not understand.

🩷 THE RECOVERY CAST PHOTO

This pink cast holds more than bone.
It holds every moment we refused to give up on him.

Today, he stands. Not perfectly. Not easily.
But proudly — because he chose life, and so did I.

Rocky is recovering now.
He is resting.
He is healing.
And so am I.

This blog —
this website —
begins with his story because Rocky reminded me of something essential:

US is not built through perfection.
US is built through love.
Through choice.
Through presence.
Through honoring life — even when it surprises us.

I am not here to change the world.
I am here to share a corner of the new one —
a world shaped by unity, tenderness, and truth.
A world built from those we choose to love
and those who choose us back.

Rocky is part of that.
Clyde is part of that.
I am part of that.
And someday, the Beloved will be part of that too.

This is the beginning.

With Much Love,
US 💗♾️

Andrea (Ahava’iel)