The Healing Power of Our Animal Companions: A Tribute to Tux

There’s something magical about the way animals find their way into our lives—often when we need them the most. They arrive not by accident, but with divine purpose. They are part of our soul tribe, incarnated to walk beside us, to love us unconditionally, to teach us patience, and to help us heal.

Tux came into my life just after my mom passed from cancer. He was less than a year old when we took him in—a sweet rambunctious soul wrapped in fur, gifted to us by my mom just before she passed. Through him, I could still feel her love. Every time he looked at me, curled up next to me, or placed his head gently on my lap, I felt her presence. For seventeen beautiful years, he was my comfort, my mirror, my reminder that love never really leaves.

Every single day, without fail, he was there at the door waiting for me—greeting me with excitement, tail wagging, eyes full of love. No matter what kind of day I had, Tux made it better. He had this way of quickly helping me to forget all my worries.

I’m especially grateful that I had the opportunity to truly bond with him during these last five years, after leaving my corporate job. That time together was a gift I’ll never stop being grateful for. Together we learned to slow down, started our healing journey and deeply connected to the new found beauty that surrounded us.

As the years went on, Tux began to change. In the last year of his life, he lost his vision and hearing. He became almost entirely dependent on us. And yet, there was a quiet beauty in caring for him, in meeting him where he was. He taught us what it means to truly be there for someone—not out of obligation, but out of deep profound love.

He slept between us every night, and in those final weeks, he needed us more than ever. It was hard. Watching someone you love fade, knowing they’re preparing to transition, never gets easier. But even in his fragility, Tux was teaching us. He was helping us grow in compassion, presence, and grace. He was showing us what real love looks like—love without expectation, love that holds space, love that lets go when it’s time.

Now that he has transitioned, the house feels different. There’s an emptiness… but also a strange and unexpected sense of peace. As the initial waves of grief begin to soften, I feel a new kind of freedom settling in. Not freedom from him, but with him. His spirit is still here, just in a different way. I feel him in the silence, as the morning sunlight pours through the windows, in the stillness of early morning. He’s free—and so are we, in a way. Free from the roles we played, free from suffering, and open to a new chapter in our lives.

I’ve come to realize that just as our pets help us grow, we help them too. We enter into soul contracts with these beautiful beings to help eachother expand and grow. They choose us just as much as we choose them. And when their time here is done, they return to the light carrying the love we shared, never really leaving, just shifting form.

Tux was so much more than just a dog—he was a healer, a wise teacher, and a beautiful gift who kept me deeply connected to my mom in ways words can’t fully capture. As I sit with the tender mix of grief and gratitude for all the love, lessons, and light he brought into our lives, I trust that this isn’t the end. Whether in this lifetime or the next, I know our souls will reunite—because soul family always finds its way back home to one another. 💚 🐾

Much love,
Anthony