Losing a “soul dog” is a unique kind of heartbreak. It is impossible to find the words that capture that profound connection. I can’t tell you how many times I have started and stopped this post over the past month. No matter what I write, the words feel hollow, unable to capture the love behind them. Then I realized that maybe the only way to truly understand is to share the story.
This story starts with a beagle named Brisco.
Meeting Petey
In 2013, I made one of the best decisions of my life. I got a dog. Not just any dog, though. I got the perfect 10-week-old beagle. I don’t even remember how we found him. I just know that I fell completely in love with him the moment I saw him.
Floppy ears, goofy smile, eyes bright and full of happiness. I knew that he was my dog. I knew he was special. But I never imagined in that moment how much I would grow to love him.
Steve and I made the 4-hour long drive to Cincinnati, Ohio to meet and pick up the cutest, sweetest little dog. At the time, his name was Petey. He was the last one in his litter and was looking for his place to call home. Steve and I had already decided to call him Brisco after one of my favorite TV shows, Brisco County Jr. The name seemed to suit him just fine.
The meet and greet went perfectly, and after we said our goodbyes, he was snuggled up on my lap, and we were heading to his new home.
He peed on me during that car ride home. I remember wondering what I had gotten myself into. But when I looked into those big brown eyes, full of unconditional love, ready to explore the world, all the worries melted away. I knew whatever challenges were to come, he and I would get through them together.
A Year of Firsts
Every day with Brisco was a new adventure. From potty training to failed obedience classes to romps around the yard to learning just what it means to be owned by a beagle.
He was eager to learn about the world, get in as many snuggles as he could throughout the day, and most of all, he wanted to be loved. He thrived on affection and curiosity.
He soon had us wrapped around his little paw. Even his big brother, Rebel, warmed up to him after a couple of weeks. At first, Rebel wanted nothing to do with an energetic puppy. But soon he enjoyed sharing in the snuggles and playing with all the toys.
Brisco was quickly realizing that the world was his to explore. He was learning who he was, what he liked, and how to be the best dog he could be.
And best of all, he was learning how it felt to be loved unconditionally.
First Adventure
It wasn’t long after we brought him home that we headed out on our first trip. We took a long weekend and headed up to the frigid but beautiful U.P. during February. We rented a cabin for my birthday in Republic, Michigan. The plan was easy hiking and enjoying some peace and quiet.
Brisco loved every moment of it, despite almost immediately upon arrival getting his toenail stuck in his crate and ripping it almost completely out. That didn’t stop him. After Steve wrapped it up to keep it dry and plopped him in a backpack for hikes, we went off to explore.
He gave sneak attack kisses, played with all his new toys, and attempted to eat pine needles as we walked by them, and discovered what snow was. He wore himself out in no time.
Brisco’s First Camping Trip
That same summer, we took Brisco on his very first camping trip in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. It was a week-long trip that covered almost the entire U.P. From near Pictured Rocks to the Estivant Pine forest in the tip of the Keweenaw, with scenic hikes, waterfalls, and fireworks in between. We had a lot planned, and Brisco was up for every second of it.
We set up camp at various campgrounds across the U.P. We visited numerous waterfalls including Canyon Falls, Silver Falls, Agate Falls, Bond Falls, Manganese Falls, Jacob’s Falls and so many more. We hiked among the 500 year old white pines at Estivant Pine, and the many stairs up to the top of Silver Mountain. We drove up to Mt Arvon to experience Michigan’s highest point. We watched fireworks over the Keweenaw Bay and enjoyed sunsets over Lake Superior from McClain State Park. We waded through the wild rivers of the U.P. and shared our love for adventure with this little dog.
Brisco had his nose out every second of it. He was loving discovering new things and exploring the new world around him. He was stealing my heart every moment.
Home Life
The adventures didn’t end on the trail, though. He found adventure around every corner at home. Brisco’s favorite thing to do was to run around the backyard and play tug with his big brother. Whatever Rebel was doing, Brisco wanted to be involved too.
He also loved all of the long, snuggly naps with me, chilling in the backyard (belly side up) with his new favorite stick, and playing with us every chance he got. He was living his best life in every sense of the word.
On days that were difficult for me, Brisco would spend hours in bed with me, curled up as close as he could be. I have dealt with chronic migraine for nearly 21 years, and some days, I don’t know how I would have made it through the day without him. He brought comfort to me in a way that can’t even be described during some of my most painful attacks.
And more importantly, he gave me a reason to get out of bed on the days I wanted to hide away from the world. He gave me strength, kept me moving, and kept my loving the life we shared together. He showed me that despite it all, I could find joy no matter what we were doing, as long as we were together.
Growing Up
We spent so much time together over the years. Time went by too fast. It felt like a moment passed, and Brisco was all grown up.
We explored so many new places. Ran around in the backyard, chasing each other in all types of weather. Played silly games in the house after I’d come home from a long, stressful day of work. Went on long hikes in the woods to quiet, familiar places with plenty of good sniffs along the way.
Spent weekends camping. Cuddled in bed for hours while my migraine attacks would be relentless. Took trips to the beach where we discovered that we both didn’t like the beach. Spent cold, winter days playing in the freshly fallen snow.
We hiked up “Michigan Mountains” to stare at the vast expanses of trees. Spent hours in the gardens together, him searching for green beans to steal right off the plants. Explored waterfalls while he gave me countless lectures on being “too close” to the edge.
We had quiet evenings too, where we sat and watched the sunset together. Nights where we watched the campfire burn and listened to the calls of the whippoorwills and barred owls. Then we would climb into my hammock, and he would always steal my sleeping bag.
Whether it was a road trip with an unknown destination or an evening at home, arrooing in the kitchen or teaming up to play fight against Steve, Brisco was all about the adventures. He wanted to celebrate the joy in every day and share it with his family. The family who loved him more than anything.
Oh, the adventures we had. The memories we made. We were lucky in so many ways.
Canine Epilepsy
In 2016, Brisco experienced his first seizure. It was very short and very unexpected. The next day, he was diagnosed by his vet with idiopathic epilepsy. In the next few years, his seizures were infrequent. Life continued as normal.
However, by 2020, his seizures had become frequent enough that he needed some medication. His vet started him on liquid Keppra. It helped for a little while, but in December of 2021, he had his first major cluster seizure event and ended up in the hospital for 3 days.
Unable to get his seizures under control, the emergency vet recommended euthanizing him due to a possible brain tumor or seeing a neurologist. We opted for a neurologist. I wasn’t going to give up on him.
The neurologist got us in that day. He believed that Brisco’s epilepsy had advanced and that he would require additional medication, Phenobarbital. After getting his current cluster under control, the neurologist released him 24 hours later. Brisco came home to me and despite life changing significantly, I had my baby boy back, and we had the tools we needed to take care of him and keep him safe. That’s all that mattered.
Every aspect of my life changed. My entire goal was to keep him safe, on a schedule, and be available for him within minutes if he did begin to seize. Everything else paused, and nothing else mattered. I was going to do everything in my power to keep him safe while still giving him the life he deserved to have.
Despite adding more medication into the mix, his seizures continued to remain unmanaged. Over the next couple of years, Brisco received emergency vet services once and ended up in the hospital overnight for another night. Soon his diagnosis was upgraded to refractory idiopathic epilepsy with cluster tendenancies and he was given a third anti-seizure medication.
Life changed even more. Brisco was never out of my sight, I altered vacations to never go anywhere we couldn’t take him, I avoided leaving behind as much as possible, I always researched the closest (and best) emergency vet whenever we would leave the area, and I avoided taking him on long hikes.
Even with those restrictions, however, our adventures most certainly didn’t stop. Brisco wouldn’t have had it any other way. Our life may have been altered, but he was still the same excited pup, ready to explore the world with me at his side.
Our bond grew even stronger during this time. I refused to give up on him, and I would do anything to keep him safe and happy. I spent so many mornings, afternoons, and evenings giving him medicines and waiting for him to come out of his seizures. Hours of following him around the house, keeping him from tripping over things or getting stuck followed by hours of post-seizure snuggles, where he would melt into me, knowing that I would keep him safe.
We had an unbreakable bond built on our love for adventure, our willingness to be there for each other, and a trust that we would take care of each other, no matter what.
The Later Years
As Brisco aged and his epilepsy worsened, he never slowed down or stopped. He loved going on roadtrips, hiking in the woods, spending time in the gardens, our weekly trips to grandma’s house (especially when we made cookies), being silly in the backyard, meeting new people, and most of all, his snuggles with me. Spending time with him was always the highlight of my day. When Brisco was there, there was no room for anything but happiness. He brightened every corner of my life.
While our travel was limited, we did still take long trips to our property. One of our favorite places. Brisco and I would take morning walks along the road where he could enjoy sniffing at all the interesting wildlife. From bears to bunnies. We explored the forest around us with him, sometimes disappearing under ferns that were taller than him!
We even took a few solo trips, just the two of us.
In 2024, we were finally able to get his epilepsy under control. Managed. He would go 20+ weeks without seizures. More time to enjoy our life together and less time worrying about when the next seizure would come. I felt incredibly happy and blessed that Brisco’s seizures were finally under control.
That was also the year Brisco took up running on his walks. His big, floppy ears would fly in the wind as he ran at a comfortable pace up and down the road or trail. He had such joy on his face in those moments. Like he was finally free again.
My love for him never stopped growing. Every day, I loved him more. He was always excited to see me, whether I had been gone all day or gone for merely minutes.
He was my best friend, my partner in adventure. I admire his strength and resilience, and most of all, his ability to always be happy, even when he wasn’t feeling well.
A Day of Magic
One day in February of 2025, we had our first decent snowfall. I decided it would be a perfect day for a hike in the woods. I grabbed Brisco and his coat, and we headed off for an adventure.
There was one moment during our hike when it was pure magic. It was just us in the woods, playing in the snow. Just the two of us. Peaceful and perfect.
I didn’t know in that moment that everything was about to change. Or rather, that it already had changed and I just didn’t know about it yet.
We stood, watching the snow fall all around us from the big white pines. The sound of snow falling in the woods is unmatched. We just stood there, together.
The moment only lasted a few minutes but it truly was pure magic. We were both happy and content. We were filled with wonder and we were together.
I think about that day so much now.
The Final Months
Days after that magic day, Brisco’s breathing changed, and I took him to the vet. We discovered that he had fluid on his lungs caused by cancer. The cancer had metastasized, and there was nothing that could be done.
My heart broke that day.
My best friend was dying. There was no way to save him. I made a decision then. I bottled it all up as best as I could. I wasn’t going to allow the heartbreak to ruin what little time we had left together.
And so our adventures continued. We tried to make the most of the little time we had left. Hiking our favorite local trails, visiting the pet store to pick out tasty treats, trips to cabins in far-away places with new sniffs to explore. We did it all. Or at least as much as we could. We lived every day to the fullest and soaked in every single moment together.
About two months later, I lost him. I said goodbye to my best friend and my world shattered entirely.
Part of my very soul died with him. It wasn’t hard letting him go. I knew I had to. Cancer was destroying his body. But it was hard leaving him behind. It was hard knowing that I would have to start living a life that he was no longer part of.
Brisco was a one-of-a-kind, amazing dog who loved everything and everyone he ever met. He brought such joy into my life and I treasure every memory I have of him. From licking cookie dough spoons that were conveniently left at eye level to watching the sunset over our property, to every end-of-day snuggle. Every moment with him was so special.
Twelve years was not nearly enough but no number of years ever would be.
His loss has brought such an indescribable pain and sadness into my life, but I would not even for a moment wish it away. I know that I did it right. I know that we shared something special and that I gave him the best life I could, full of all my love, because it does hurt so much. Brisco was a special dog who brought such joy and light into my life.
I love him more than anything, and I miss him so much every single moment of every day.
To My Best Friend
Wherever you are, I hope that you are in a place filled with woods as thick and rich as your little heart desires. With smells aplenty, sticks to chew on, and all friends to fill your spirit with the love and joy you’ve brought to everyone you’ve met in this life.
I miss you more than I can ever imagine. Because you were never “just a dog”. You’ve always been a part of my soul, my little warrior.
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