Honoring Bo & Celebrating Lexi
July 28th marks one year since my beautiful, furry baby Bo transitioned, and July 29th we celebrate Lexi's first birthday (yep, she was born exactly one day after Bo, and yep, I believe Bo made a quick turnaround and came back for more treats!). In this divine master plan, constantly evolving and unfolding, I wanted to reflect on the cycle of life and death, joy and grief, and the profound infinite energy we hold in our hearts for those we lost, where there is no death, only more love.
I’ve told the story of Bo before, but now, through his legacy and Lexi’s new beginnings, I am reminded of the lessons learned through stage IV cancer. That we can overcome anything with grace when we come from love, gratitude, and trust … especially in our furry babies.
THE LEGACY OF KING BO
Before Bo, Larry and I were planning on having a baby, not a dog. After three failed IVF cycles and hitting a low point, Larry suggested we take a break and get a dog. My sister had recently rescued a puppy named Truman and was soon on the hunt for us. One Sunday at the Farmer’s Market, she saw a dog that looked like a lamb. The foundation who rescued him said he was hit by a car, found stuck in the car grill, and that it was a miracle he only had a broken leg. That was all they knew about him. They called him Bo Bo.
My sister took Bo Bo home that day, deciding to foster him. She said he was so cute with his white curly coat and gray spots. She was prepared to take care of him as he was healing from his first surgery, waiting to see if he would need a second surgery. She wanted Larry and me to meet him on Sunday when we gathered for our weekly family dinners.
When Larry and I met Bo Bo for the first time, I was a little skeptical. I was expecting to feel something bigger, like a “knowing” Bo Bo was ours. I didn’t have any kind of reaction. Larry thought Bo Bo was cute but was concerned about taking a dog with a broken leg, having no idea if the leg would heal or not. As if sensing our uncertainty, Bo Bo jumped into Larry's lap, looked him in the face, and that was that.
We didn’t pick Bo Bo, but he picked us, and we said, ”Sure.” He was in charge from that moment on. Little did we know, our soon-to-be-King had a big purpose. We changed the name, Bo Bo, to Bo, since Larry still had PTSD from Bozo the Clown (truth!). And Bo's broken leg healed perfectly, never needing a second surgery. His doctor called him a “miracle dog.”
Six months after we adopted Bo, I was diagnosed with stage IV cancer. Bo rose to the occasion, showing off his service-dog skills. He accompanied me to every treatment and doctor appointment, taking it all in, very chill, and calm. Of course, he made friends with all of my doctors, saying hi to everyone with his signature, “Howwwwwwellllllllllllllllllooooool.” Four months into my treatment, I had my first surgery, a double mastectomy. After that, I was deemed cancer-free. And just like Bo, it felt like another miracle had taken place.
I continued through treatment, check-ups, and seven more surgeries, with Bo (and Larry) by my side. Life was getting back to normal, a brand new, AMAZING normal, filled with so much passion for starting Zero Negative, and everyday finding joy in being alive and healthy. My purpose had found me, and yet, I realized our highest purpose of all is to love ourselves and to find joy in everything we choose to do, especially in the struggle.
About a year and a half into my recovery, I discovered a lump on Bo's wrist. I took him to his vet. Our doc wasn't worried it was anything but wanted to biopsy the lump. The tests came back. Surprisingly (or not), it was cancer. It hadn’t spread, thankfully, and all he needed was a simple surgery… but the shock of it all was profound. Bo took on cancer with his mamma. It felt like he sucked out some of the cancer, energetically, to help save my life. Immediately, I saw Bo as my guardian angel.
We scheduled Bo’s surgery, and soon after, he was cancer-free. Our small family became something like a RomCom called, Two Cancer Survivors and a Caregiver. And the gratitude kept pouring in for the journey we all had taken, together. Our love and trust in life and all its challenges was real.
Years later, Bo developed SARDS (Sudden Acute Retinal Degenerative Syndrome), becoming blind and then deaf. His quality of life was not one that made him happy. He started whining a lot, on and off through the night. I prayed to hear from Bo’s spirit, what did he want us to do? Was he ready to transition, or did he want to stay longer?
In a dream, Bo told me he was ready to leave, but worried … who would give him treats? He also thought we would fall in love with another dog and forget about him. OMG, I was so sad Bo felt this way. I reassured him he would always be our king and that we would never forget him. I asked him to help us find our next furry baby, since he would always be part of our family. So we struck a deal: when I meet the right dog, Bo sends me chills. I woke up feeling so much trust and gratitude for my dream, understanding what to do next and how to honor Bo’s wishes.
A week later, Bo passed away peacefully in my arms, surrounded by friends and family who came to say goodbye. It was a poignant mix of sadness and celebration. Larry and I cried nonstop that night; however, we knew Bo was at peace.
In my dream that night, I saw Bo as his best self, young and cute, jumping around, kissing, and hugging me. He knew I needed that reassurance. I still cry sometimes when I think about him, but the tears are full of love and appreciation, grateful he was ours, and trusting he was part of something divine.
LEXI’S ARRIVAL
Larry and I never thought we could love another dog as much as Bo. But we knew we would try. We took a pause, there was no rush, and no desire to replace King Bo.
About three months after Bo's passing, I started seeing Bo in my dreams. In one dream, he emerged from a tunnel with another dog. He had an empty paper brown bag, like a goodie bag I was supposed to fill with treats, to send back with him for God. I filled the bag with treats and watched him run back into the tunnel. The other dog stayed outside of the tunnel. I woke up and felt Bo’s message, it’s time to find a new companion. Thank You Bo!
I started to research shelters and rescue places. I knew we had a couple of prerequisites about size and type of fur, hypoallergenic, but other than that, the only other non-negotiable was that I get chills when I meet the right one (I better not get chills with every dog I fall in love with!).
I drove Larry crazy, dragging him around to meet available dogs that were sooooooo cute. I wanted a puppy; Larry didn’t. I wanted a smaller dog that I could carry around; Larry wanted a dog he could run with and not worry about stepping on. Needless to say, I trusted the process … when we meet the right one, Bo will send chills… I will trust.
But… I wasn’t getting the chills and I was meeting so many dogs! I felt bad saying no to all these cuties who needed a forever home. Was I ever going to get the chills? I began to doubt our agreement.
One day, on Instagram, I started seeing a bunch of bernedoodle puppies from Utah. One was named Chloe and had a pink bow in her hair (pink?!). She reminded me of Bo for some reason. And I loved the freckle on her nose, the one white paw, and all the spotted colors.
Since she was in Utah, the only meeting we could have was through FaceTime. Larry resisted, “How can we decide on a dog without meeting them in person?” No worries, I thought. I’ll schedule a FaceTime and go from there.
Long story short, Larry and I chatted with this lovely couple from Utah on FaceTime. They brought in two of their available puppies, a boy and a girl. I was watching Chloe play; she was so affectionate, feisty, and fluffy, and her facial expressions seemed so curious. She made a quick glance when her litter mate ruffled some leaves, and then, yep, chills came over my body. I had no hesitation. “Larry,” I whispered, “Chloe is the one.”
Larry heard me but didn’t react. He continued to find out the process of the adoption and all the other details, like when they come to Los Angeles and at what age they are ready to be adopted. They told us Chloe was born on July 29th. Another wave of chills rippled through me. Bo passed on July 28th. Was Bo coming back as a female puppy for more treats? Ha. Whatever his plan was, we were saying, “Yes, thank you.”
I admit, it was a little crazy taking a dog without a meeting in person, but I trusted...and Larry trusted me. Six years prior, I remembered when I prayed to find the right oncologist. I got chills when I met Dr. Salmon at UCLA. The chills can never lead me wrong!
LESSONS OF LOVE, GRATITUDE & TRUST
We renamed Chloe, Lexi Love, and Larry, who was so worried about getting a puppy, is always expressing how happy he is with Lexi in our life. Once again, Bo made the decision for us, and we listened!
Bo's choice of Lexi was a profound reminder of the lessons I learned through my cancer journey—love, gratitude, and trust …for Bo, for cancer, for life, and then to sit back and say “YES, THANK YOU!”
It seems so obvious to me, Bo’s spirit lives in Lexi, a reminder that when we die, we are still always here. And Lexi, she’s definitely an old soul, with lots of presence and awareness. Our friends can’t believe that she is a puppy because she seems so calm. She has mannerisms similar to Bo, in her eyes you see her soul, and yet, she is finding her own spirit. Wise, and so loving, I am excited to see what this ball of joy brings. She’s already become such a huge part of our family. If Bo were here, she would be nagging him to play, and Bo would put up with her. However, his rule, “I don’t play, but I’ll hang out with you.” Siblings for sure!
I will leave you with one more reminder: these core lessons of love, gratitude, and trust can never lead us wrong. And as Zero Negative is going through a big makeover, my partner Stacey and I are staying true to these values. No matter what every day brings, Bo’s memory inspires me always, as I continue to embrace life, friends, and family with love, the Zero Negative community with gratitude, and the knowing that everything is unfolding exactly as it should.
Thank YOU for being part of our journey!