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I have had the pleasure of living the last 14-years with two amazing trail dogs. Ghost and Frida were my best friends and more; they were real family. Ghost was the gnarliest shredder and Frida, though slower, never gave up on anything, ever. 

Frida at Eagle bike park in Idaho

We lost Ghost last year in May at the age of 14. He was a fighter all the way to the very end when we had to do an emergency pet ambulance to a 24-hour ER as he had to be intubated. 

Ghost at Horsetooth Reservoir in Ft. Collins, CO. Probably the best day riding we all had together.

Sunday, 11/10/19, we had to let go of Frida. A dog I never wanted though knew I needed in my life. She was the best of the worst dogs. Always just her own animal, she ate what she caught, and she caught anything she could, including the landlord, a UPS driver, a neighbor.. the list goes on and we were lucky to have been able to keep her from being labeled a dangerous animal and having her taken and "destroyed." 


Over the years, I fell head over heels in love with her and realized she was just me, a wild animal trapped in a domesticated life by proxy of the circumstance of birth. She wanted to be a wolf and became a pet, I, as a human.


 We bonded on a primal level like our mutual ancestors did, as I domesticated her (we found her wild in the woods of Pecos, New Mexico), and she showed me what it meant to be free, to be wild, to live with my heart on my sleeve. 


She was hit by a car six years ago and we were able to raise over eight thousand dollars in three days to help keep her alive and rehabilitate her. She lost the use of one of her front legs but not the use of her will, her desire to be free, her wild soul. Her beautiful, wild could not be broken. Not by mechanical means, not by pain, not even by body breaking.

Six years passed. Ghost left us, but still, Frida endured. She stepped up, she shelved her wild soul to be what our family needed; a dear companion. A guardian and confidant to our newborn son. And she protected him and loved him with a passion as if she birthed him herself. Frida would hobble around the house, following him, barking at him, kissing his face, laying with him. Always there with him, and us. She became his angel.

Last Saturday, while outside with her at 2am while she relieved herself for the 20th time in as many minutes, this little angel told me she wanted her star to be the bright purple one in the sky. I looked up and there was Sirius shining down bright as the sun.

Dancing in the heavens as if to welcome this sweet soul, winking as if to tell me it’s going to be ok. 

On Sunday, I struggled through the tears and to find the words to explain to my girl that she will be with Ghostifari again and she will no longer be in pain or struggle to get up and walk and all her worries will be gone. She will be gone. Gone from this earth. Gone from the domestication, gone from the metaphorical chains of her limited body.

But my heart will be broken forever. 

Digital artwork portrait of Frida.

This movie below isn't about her, it isn't about Ghost, I didn't even have any part of it. But this movie is for all of us. Please take the next nine minutes to watch this, listen to it, put on your headphones and really listen with your heart. Let it take you back to your childhood, let it take you to the trail, let it take you to your primal place. Let it remind you to always...

Stay wild.

This video inspired me to write this memoram for Frida. Paws & Wheels II, Produced by

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