A Tribute to Barkley, Our Best Boy

Barkley Summer Vibes 2022 Goldendoodle in Alberta
Hearty Hero
Apr. 11, 2025

๐˜ผ ๐™‡๐™ค๐™ซ๐™š ๐™Ž๐™ฉ๐™ค๐™ง๐™ฎ ๐™๐™๐™–๐™ฉ ๐™Ž๐™ฉ๐™–๐™ง๐™ฉ๐™š๐™™ ๐™ฌ๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™ ๐™– ๐˜พ๐™๐™ค๐™ž๐™˜๐™š

They say our pets pick us, and I believe that with all my heart.

I will never forget the day we went to the breeder to pick up our pup. We had expected to wait months for a doodle, but an unexpected call changed everything โ€“ two puppies had become available, and we were first on the list to choose.

Sitting in the kennel, we were presented with two adorable, wiggly bundles of fur. I watched them both, wondering how weโ€™d ever make such a big decision.

But I didnโ€™t have to.

Barkley chose me.

He climbed into my lap, nestled in, and let out a tiny sigh of contentment. At that moment, it was decided โ€“ he was ours, and we were his.

From that moment on, we were bonded.

๐™๐™๐™š ๐˜ฟ๐™ค๐™œ ๐™’๐™๐™ค ๐™ƒ๐™š๐™ก๐™ฅ๐™š๐™™ ๐™ˆ๐™š ๐™๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™ˆ๐™ฎ๐™จ๐™š๐™ก๐™›

Before Barkley, I felt like a stranger in my own life.

I struggled with derealization and depersonalization disorder, a symptom of CPTSD. The world around me felt distant โ€“ like I was watching my own life through a screen, detached from reality, from others, from myself.

I didnโ€™t just find a dog in Barkley; I found an anchor.

He had a way of pulling me back when I felt like I was drifting. His steady presence, the way heโ€™d nudge me when I was stuck in my own head, the quiet comfort of his head resting on my lap โ€“ it all reminded me that I was here, safe, real.

He didnโ€™t just keep me grounded. He brought me back.

Barkley wasnโ€™t just a pet. He was the one who helped me reconnect โ€“ with the world, with my family, and most importantly, with myself

๐™๐™๐™š ๐™‹๐™š๐™ง๐™›๐™š๐™˜๐™ฉ ๐™๐™ž๐™ฉ ๐™›๐™ง๐™ค๐™ข ๐˜ฟ๐™–๐™ฎ ๐™Š๐™ฃ๐™š

With three young kids โ€“ ages 3, 6, and 8 โ€“ plus two senior cats, I fully expected chaos. At the very least, I braced myself for sleepless nights, whining, and the usual puppy antics.

Not with Barkley.

From the moment he came home, he fit perfectly into our family. That first night, I barely slept โ€“ not because he kept me up, but because I kept waking up to check on him.

He didnโ€™t cry or whimper. He just curled up on the pillow beside my bed and slept peacefully through the night. It was as if he already knew he was home.

๐˜ผ ๐™‰๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ช๐™ง๐™–๐™ก ๐™๐™๐™š๐™ง๐™–๐™ฅ๐™ฎ ๐˜ฟ๐™ค๐™œ

Barkleyโ€™s calm, gentle nature was evident even as a tiny puppy. At just eight weeks old, I knew he was special.

I decided early on that he would make the perfect therapy dog. We jumped into intensive training, starting at three months old. He picked up commands almost instantly, thriving in our six-hours-a-week classes and private two-hour daily sessions.

Of course, his training didnโ€™t stop there โ€“ Presley, three-years-old at the time, had him fully immersed in her programs too: hide-and-seek, pat-a-cake, and tea parties where he patiently sat as the honored guest.

By the time he was a year and a half, he was ready for his therapy dog interview with St. Johnโ€™s Pet Therapy, but life had other plans. I needed to focus on a paying job, and while we never officially pursued certification, Barkleyโ€™s impact on people was undeniable.

Strangers, including professionals at places like Ronald McDonald House, would comment that he was a natural therapy dog. He had a way of sensing when people needed comfort, offering his presence as a steady, calming force.

๐™๐™๐™š ๐˜ฝ๐™ค๐™ฎ ๐™’๐™๐™ค ๐™‰๐™š๐™š๐™™๐™š๐™™ ๐˜ฝ๐™–๐™ง๐™ ๐™ก๐™š๐™ฎ

Every afternoon at school pickup, Barkley had a little friend waiting for him. A young boy with autism would come running to Barkley as soon as the bell rang, wrapping his arms around him in a big hug.

I never thought much of it โ€“ after all, every kid loved Barkley.

One day, the boyโ€™s mother approached me, her voice filled with emotion.

"I canโ€™t believe it," she said. "My son is terrified of dogs. He wonโ€™t go near them, let alone touch them. But for some reason, he trusts Barkley."

I told her where we had gotten him, not thinking much of it.

Months later, I was back at the school and saw the same woman โ€“ only this time, she had a dog by her side. Barkley immediately perked up, as if he knew.

"I took your advice," she told me, beaming. "This is Barkleyโ€™s sister โ€“ from another litter."

It was one of those rare, full-circle moments in life, where you realize just how deeply your pet has touched others.

๐˜ฝ๐™–๐™ง๐™ ๐™ก๐™š๐™ฎโ€™๐™จ ๐™„๐™ฃ๐™›๐™ก๐™ช๐™š๐™ฃ๐™˜๐™š

Barkley had a way of winning people over instantly.

He wasnโ€™t just our beloved dog โ€“ he made such an impression that many people who met him wanted a dog just like him.

More than a few times, after spending time with Barkley, people would ask, โ€œWhere did you get him?โ€ Iโ€™d tell them about the breeder, not thinking much of it. But over the years, I came to realize that Barkley wasnโ€™t just a well-loved neighborhood pup, he was the reason multiple families went to that same breeder to bring home a doodle of their own.

His love spread far beyond our home.

๐™๐™๐™š ๐™Ž๐™ฃ๐™š๐™–๐™ ๐™ฎ ๐™๐™ค๐™ค๐™™ ๐™๐™๐™ž๐™š๐™› & ๐™๐™๐™š ๐™‚๐™š๐™ฃ๐™ฉ๐™ก๐™š ๐™‹๐™ง๐™ค๐™ฉ๐™š๐™˜๐™ฉ๐™ค๐™ง

At 60 pounds heavier than his predicted weight, Barkley was a big boy โ€“ but it wasnโ€™t just genetics. He loved his food, and he was sneaky about it.

His greatest heist? The Great Steak Incident.

We had just seasoned and set our steaks on the counter, stepping outside for a moment to fire up the BBQ. When we came back, Barkley was lying on the kitchen floor in the exact same sleeping position weโ€™d left him in. His eyes were closed, body completely still โ€“ except now, there was one less steak on the counter.

To this day, itโ€™s the most convincing display of โ€œit wasnโ€™t meโ€ Iโ€™ve ever seen.

But for all his softness, Barkley was also a protector. Even in his final weeks, when his body was failing him, his instincts never wavered.

Just recently, on one of our last evening walks, a German Shepherd came charging out of a house โ€“ teeth bared, snarling, snapping at us.

Barkley, old and sore as he was, immediately stepped in front of me and his baby sister, Lola.

He braced himself, standing between us and the threat, ready to fight if he had to.

Thankfully, the Shepherdโ€™s owner rushed over in time, and no serious harm was done. But in that moment, it was clear โ€“ no matter how old or weak he felt, Barkley would have protected us with everything he had.

๐™‚๐™ค๐™ค๐™™๐™—๐™ฎ๐™š, ๐™ˆ๐™ฎ ๐™Ž๐™ฌ๐™š๐™š๐™ฉ ๐˜ฝ๐™ค๐™ฎ

Barkley was more than a pet. He was family. He was a best friend, a protector, a gentle presence who made everyone around him feel safe and loved.

His body may have grown tired, but his heart was never anything less than full.

Saying goodbye will be one of the hardest things Iโ€™ll ever do, but I find comfort in knowing that he will leave this world the way he lived in it โ€“ deeply loved, cherished beyond words, and surrounded by the family he chose.

Run free, sweet boy. Thank you for choosing us.

Karee

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