Dogs remind us to live in this moment. And the last 12 months have gone in a blink of an eye. I knew at some point I wanted to do an update here but I hadn’t really been ready to talk about the loss of my dear Noggin. I’m still not ready, knowing there are no words to sum up how grateful I am to have had her with me for 9 of her 14.5 years, but I will offer a few thoughts (Noggin wouldn’t want me spending too much of this grand life of ours staring at a screen).

Noggin was the calmest, most patient, and tolerant dog I have ever known, yet up to her last day she still looked and acted like a yearling. On every trail we shared together her enthusiasm to see and discover all that lies ahead, her highly-animated tail-wagging trot, and her intelligence responding to gee & haw on a dime brought me pure joy. Noggin’s death was very unexpected—she appeared to be in amazing health. Two weeks earlier we had even gone up to Michigan to try out some other Alaskan huskies to see if she might want a new buddy. Chloe, our little corgi-springer sidekick, passed away in 2024, just a month shy of 18 years old, and I’d been having a hard time thinking about another dog because I just missed her so darn much. Our dogs never live long enough—we want them forever and ever! But it was time, and we had time, so off to the UP of Michigan we went.

One at a time I took Noggin out on the trail with a retired sled dog up for adoption but none of them thrilled her. “Nope! Not that one…” she warned us with her signature understated expressions. But when Sophia, also a retired lead dog, joined up shoulder-to-shoulder with Noggin on a hike, all was right with the world. Noggin reached over and play bit Sophia’s muzzle like she was a pup again. I was so happy Noggin was so happy. I felt Chloe right there with us, and all of the other dogs I’ve ever known and loved.

Every day should be an adventure, my string of dogs—past and present—reminds me.

Two weeks later we lost our beloved Noggin to an aggressive tumor we didn’t even know she had. She showed no signs she was unwell. One minute she was tail-swishing her way down a favorite path with Sophia by her side, chasing butterflies, eyeing squirrels… and hours later she was gone, leaving us all in shock.

Now I know Noggin picked Sophia out not just for herself, but for me.

Out on the road, in the wild, at libraries & schools, I feel Noggin with us, leading the string, the white tip of her black tail flagging back and forth, “Follow me! This way!”