How Bohdi Found His Way Home
Claire with Tux
Some souls don’t just walk beside us for a season.
They walk with us across lifetimes.
Tux came into our lives through Anthony’s mom, Claire. When she brought home a puppy while she was sick, we honestly thought she was a little crazy. A puppy? Then? But in hindsight, it was one of the most conscious choices she could have made. Puppies bring joy, laughter, and unconditional love into spaces that are aching for light. Claire knew. In her final days, she chose joy.
Tux became part of our family when he was nine months old. Still very much a puppy. Still figuring out the world. He arrived as a tiny tyrant and, over time, softened into the sweetest, most loyal little sidekick anyone could ask for.
Because I worked from home, Tux became my shadow. A Bichon Shih Tzu with eyes on me at all times. He followed me everywhere and wove himself into the rhythm of our daily lives.
Tux was deeply connected to us. He was also our last living thread to Claire, aside from Anthony’s brother and our nephews, which just isn’t quite the same. Through Tux, she stayed close.
Claire was a Master 22 life path. In numerology, a Master Life Path 22 is considered to have a very high vibrational frequency that acts as a bridge between the spiritual and material worlds. Her and I didn’t get along while she was alive, but after her passing, something profound shifted. On our 10th wedding anniversary, she sent me a physical message, an actual email, from beyond the grave. Wow, right!?
In it, she apologized for how she had judged me and shared how happy she was that Anthony and I had found each other. In that moment, years of pain and grief dissolved instantly. It was wild!! The healing was real, immediate, and unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Even now, it brings tears to my eyes knowing she finally saw me for who I truly am and was able to see the deep profound connection that Anthony and I share.
Another moment sealed that connection. My best friend, a gifted intuitive, kundalini yoga practitioner, and Reiki master, picked up the bottle of Claire’s homeopathic essence. It contained a drop of her blood suspended in crystalline structured water, prepared by her healer. The bottle froze up and crystals started to form, at which point my friend noticed that Claires name had been spelt wrong. She removed the name, then the bottle started to get warmer, started steaming and began magnetically pulling her towards different things - the flowers, the outdoors, it was like she was free and celebrating!
When Tux began declining, our grief felt different than it had with our first dog, Dakota, whom we loved deeply. Our bond with Tux was simply different. While he was sick, we meditated often. We asked if it was his time, and the answer we kept receiving was that he was here for ascension. That he was part of us. That he was meant to be on this journey with us.
And yet… his body was old. It was failing him. Holding both truths at once was incredibly hard.
After months of gradual decline, Tux passed on April 3, 2025. In the months before he left, I held him against my chest, tucked into my arms the same way he climbed into us when we first met. It felt instinctual. Sacred. Like we were closing the circle together.
His passing brought deep grief, but also an unexpected exhale. Freedom.
For the first time in years, I wasn’t moving through life with a shadow at my heels. I could take long walks with Spot and Anthony. I could help in the kitchen. I slept without a night light. I wasn’t cleaning up accidents anymore.
We grieved hard for weeks. And then summer came. Gently. And life, surprisingly, felt light again.
Tux never really left us, though. He kept sending signs. Heart rocks everywhere. Heart-shaped beach glass. Even a piece of quartz shaped like a heart. We smiled more than we cried. Life felt lighter. Spot, our independent boy, fit beautifully into this new chapter. It worked for us.
Then something shifted.
Around Christmas, rescue dogs started showing up in my feed. Again and again. Rescue after rescue. Until suddenly, I couldn’t stop looking. I joined countless rescue organizations. I searched constantly. Day and night.
I finally said to Anthony, “I don’t know why I’m so obsessed. This doesn’t make sense. From a mental perspective, a new dog really doesn’t fit right now. And yet… every time I check in, I get a strong yes. It feels so right.”
There were two puppies left at the farm. A short-haired female and a long-haired male. We thought we wanted a female because Spot is male, but we stayed open. We allowed this new soul to choose us.
And he did. He hugged and kissed us like he remembered. Instantly. There was no doubt. We knew.
He felt it too. He trusted the pull and didn’t question it. Later, I realized that maybe neither of us was really leading at all.
Before Tux passed, we asked him to come back to us. And we asked him to make it obvious, because otherwise we might miss him. We knew giving up our freedom so quickly wouldn’t come easily.
Years earlier, when Tux was around nine or ten and firmly in his grumpy era, I cared for two Chihuahua puppies. Their playful, bright energy carried me through a season when joy felt scarce. Tux saw that.
I think that’s part of why he chose to return as a Chihuahua.
The other reason is simpler—and very him. He hated haircuts. He used to need sweaters because he was always cold. Now his long fur keeps him warm, and no one’s chasing him with clippers.
He thought it through this time.
Bodhi walked into our home and knew it instantly. He knew where the old beds were. Where the food and water belonged. He gravitated toward Tux’s old toys, especially the ones he received at his last Christmas and never got to play with. And he loves playing fetch and with a ball, just like Tux did.
His coloring matches Tux’s before his first haircut and has the same white markings on his chest, under his chin, and on his paws.
On the drive to meet the available puppies, we listened to the same music we played while Tux was passing. The grief hit us immediately. Raw. Familiar.
The day we brought Bodhi home was Claire’s birthday. The perfect day for a long drive during a week of wintery weather…and it’s also incredibly symbolic. There really are no coincidences, just Divines synchronicities.
Bodhi with a toy that Tux received on his last Christmas
Bodhi was born on October 11, 2025, sometime between 5 and 6 a.m., the day before our son’s birthday. The same son who convinced me years ago to take Tux in when I had refused to take him. The same son who helped me learn how to trust my intuition and introduced me to the pendulum, a tool I still use to connect with my higher wisdom.
The name Bodhi means enlightenment in Sanskrit. A Bodhisattva is a being who has awakened to truth and compassion and chooses to return again and again to support others in their awakening rather than leaving the world behind.
In Human Design, Bodhi carries the Right Angle Cross of Penetration 3 with a 4/6 profile. He’s here for community, for connection, and to support us in our mission—to be a bridge for light leaders and those walking the health and ascension path.
The gates he carries only confirmed what our meditations had already revealed months earlier.
Gate 57 — moving from unease into intuition, and then clarity.
Gate 51 — agitation into initiative, awakening what’s been dormant.
Gate 53 — immaturity into expansion, opening the door to superabundance.
Gate 54 — transforming greed into aspiration, and ultimately, ascension.
Seeing it all laid out, everything clicked. He’s here for this—for this process, this time. To support us, and others, as we move through it.
And he didn’t arrive alone. Claire helped guide him to us. My parents Christmas gift helped make his arrival effortless. We were nudged to cash in Visa points at just the right moment, covering everything we needed to welcome him home—to nourish his little body, keep him safe, happy, and busy.
Once again, we weren’t leading the way.
We were being led!!
We are living through a spiritual war.
The world is changing.
And so are we.
Our gifts are expanding.
Our ability to see beyond the veil is strengthening.
We live in a benevolent Universe.
We are supported.
Guided.
Held.
But are we listening?
This experience has shown us, in the most intimate way, just how supported we truly are. As the world grows louder and more chaotic, the invitation isn’t to push harder outward—it’s to return inward. To return to Source.
We are not doing this life alone.
We hold the power to create and manifest our deepest desires, but only when they are aligned with what is truly ours. And the challenge is that we’ve been conditioned to forget that truth—to doubt it, to override it, to hand our inner knowing away.
Some may judge us.
Some may think we’re crazy.
That this isn’t the right time to bring a puppy into our lives.
But we didn’t bring home a puppy.
We welcomed back a piece of our fragmented soul—returned to walk with us, and to support not only our journey, but humanity’s, through this time of remembering.
There is another layer to this story, one that continues to unfold. It reaches deeper into ancestry, soul contracts, and why Tux came to Claire when he did. It’s a story for another time… but one that is already making itself known again through Bodhi in ways we never could have planned.
Welcome home, Bodhi 🤍
