The Break That Built Dogland

In 2020, I was lying in a park in Seattle, watching families orbit their children. At the same time, both of my sisters had just adopted dogs—Kevin and Walter—and were reorganizing their entire lives around them.

Trainers. Homemade food. Boarding interviews.

I didn’t get it, until that moment in the park watch parents look after both children and dogs, the exact same way. These people’s dogs are their family. How bizarre I thought. And I wondered: how far will these people take this? Are they going to start taking their dogs to Disneyland?

That was the spark.

The First Break

Five years ago, my now ex-husband and I went through a brutal breakup (an intermission to remind you girls that people don’t change).

The kind that flattens you. The kind that makes you question your judgment, your future, your worth.

My sisters said gently, “Maybe you should get a dog.”

Around that time, I’d snapped a photo in front of an ad featuring the cutest Westie I’d ever seen. In a haze of heartbreak, I thought: Fine. I’ll get that dog.

It was peak COVID. Waitlists were months long. I assumed it would take forever.

Instead, I woke up the next morning to an email:
“I have a Westie puppy. Can meet at Costco at 2:00 PM.”

That afternoon, in a Costco parking lot, I met Rick.

And instantly, I understood everything.

Why people rearrange their lives.
Why they obsess.
Why they’d do anything for their dog.

Rick became my constant. When my heart was unstable, he was steady. When I felt unchosen, he chose me every single day. He didn’t just heal me. He anchored me and he become my family.

The Second Break — Fuel for Dogland

Fast forward to Spring 2026.

After six years of building and preparing to launch my first Dogland in Austin, life tested me again.

Seventy-one days before opening, my ex- husband and I decided to divorce.

The timing could have broken me, but this time, heartbreak became fuel to build something extraordinary. Something that could bring joy, wonder, and connection to those just like me. I poured every ounce of energy, grief, and determination into Dogland.

Rick was there, of course. Same steady buddy. Same unwavering presence. Same reminder: Keep going.

And I during this work realized: Dogland isn’t just a park.

It’s the community we all need when life cracks open.
It’s a clubhouse for dog people who build their lives around love.
It’s joy you can step into.
It’s magic you can share.

For me, it’s a love letter to Rick.

Spring 2026, Dogland opens.

Not just as a business. But as proof that heartbreak can be transformed into something extraordinary. Something that brings joy to thousands of people and dogs alike and a reminder that together we can handle what life throws our way.