He was a few weeks old. No bigger than a pound of butter. After looking up at me, he nestled his head into my neck. 

Bali, my rambunctious Portuguese Water dog, came into my life in July 2015. I had promised myself I’d welcome a dog once I worked from home. It had only been a few months since I took the plunge to build my coaching biz full-time.

The stars aligned. I called the breeder on a Tuesday afternoon expecting her to say there was a year-long waitlist. To my surprise, I was invited to visit two male pups a few days later.

The rest is history. Sort of. I could go on and on about all that Bali has brought into my life, but let’s be real, neither one of us has time to read all that.

Instead, I’ll share with you an excerpt from my manuscript.

A little pretext:

In 2016 Bali joined me as I uprooted my life in Montreal to drive across the US and start a new life by the ocean. I spent 7 months in Tofino before being called to go back where I thought I never would: my hometown in Quebec.

Before coming back to Quebec in the spring of 2017, Bali and I made one final stop at Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore. The chapter you’re about to read was inspired by the time we spent there and highlights some of my favourite things about this four-legged creature!

Enjoy!

It was a breezy afternoon.

The sky was clear. The sun kissed my skin as if it was cupping my face in it’s hands saying “gosh, I’ve missed you.” Funny, I was thinking the same thing.

Bali bounced happily on the white sandy shore as I kicked off my shoes. He jumped in and out of the water with excitement that seemed to reflect what I was once again feeling inside. Watching him swim after pieces of driftwood, run up and down the dunes, I reflected on all that this four-legged creature had brought to this journey.

From lying on the bathroom floor that fateful night I connected to the wanderer within me that was aching to be set free, to watching me surf from the beach to waiting patiently as I completed edits on this book, he has been by my side every single step of this adventure. Except for when he wanders off sniffing the next pile of logs or chasing crows on the beach, coming back only when he is ready. For the most part, he’s been there.

I can’t blame him for how he doesn’t always listen and does his own thing. I’m kind of like that. Having been called “tête de cochon,” (pig headed) and stubborn on more than one occasion, I’ve rarely ever seen fault in that, but instead, consider hard headedness a necessary element to unleash wanderlust and free-spirited nature. I suppose in this sense, Bali and I are like two peas in a pod. That, and when we love you, we love hard.

Despite his cute face, he can awaken a fury in me that only one of my ex-boyfriends has been able to do—as he did that afternoon at Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore.

Bali was a loose cannon. Unleashing all pent-up energy that spending ten plus hours in an overly packed car for several days can build-up in an energetic pup.

Bali is like a light switch. On and off in an instant. One moment he’s off; peacefully sleeping, head resting on my lap. Then on; running at full speed in circles, jumping around me, responding to my commands by snapping at my ankles as if I too were supposed to join in his freak show. As much as he can be the best dog, I’m not a fan of torn clothes and nipped ankles. And so, quickly, I blow a fuse. Lose patience and call his name through clenched teeth. I was about ready to sack him like a linebacker would a quarterback in the final minutes of the Super Bowl.

Then, like a dimmer, I softened. Realizing that this adventure was just as crazy for him as it had been for me. He’d gladly come along for the ride—literally jumping into the car, tail wagging, with no idea where I’d take him on any given day. Trusting me to make the right call, even when I didn’t. Greeting me with the same enthusiasm and wet nose kisses day after day. And so, compassion showed up and I tossed another piece of driftwood into the water.

If I were him, I too would have let my animal instincts guide me before being put back into a small car. Which is why I love taking him to places where he can run freely and make new friends, even if only with a piece of driftwood or dead leaves in a mud puddle.

One of my favourite things while living in Tofino was our daily walks on the beach. Watching Bali do his thing. Running up to almost everyone as if to say “hello” before hopping in the whitewash or over logs. I loved seeing how people’s eyes would light up as he passed by carrying one of his toys, tail wagging. Dogs have this way of connecting people to joy and Bali’s daily injection added to the experience people were going to Tofino for.

There were plenty of dogs for Bali to play with in Tofino. Be it his favourite, Lola, or those that were accompanying their owners on a weekend visit. I always admired how instantly dogs become friends. How they play wholeheartedly for a few minutes and then move on.

Imagine what the world would be like, minus the butt sniffing, if humans played feverishly, loved unconditionally, and created friendships with as much ease as dogs do.

On occasion, when Bali would turn into a little menace, I’d keep on walking as if he wasn’t mine. He would eventually come around or I’d swallow my pride and go after my crazy pup!

Walking along those beaches felt free. Seeing how happy he was, contributed to my happiness. It may seem strange how much satisfaction I get from knowing that Bali has an incredible life. Just as the amount of sand around me has become a measure of success, the degree that Bali is having a good time has as well. If he’s having a great time, I’m doing alright. And when I forget, I know I’ve got a companion that will remind me to enjoy the ride.

Bali let it all out on the beach in Indiana. Eventually calming down and bringing heaps of sand back into the car when we left.

The dunes in Indiana were our last stop before grabbing a bite and making our way back onto Canadian territory late into the night. One last time I checked-into a Motel 6.

Early the next morning, I felt ready for the ten-hour drive back to Quebec. I kept my eyes on the road. Impatiently sat in Toronto traffic for a couple of hours. Excitedly made a pit stop in Montreal to grab a bite at one of my favourite spots before arriving at my parents’ home close to midnight.

Ready or not, I was back “home.” Ready to hug my parents. Happy to reconnect with friends. Completely unprepared for what would come with my return. Bali, willing to rest his head on my lap whenever I’d need.

Bali is sleeping on my feet as I finish this post. Tomorrow we’ll hit the mountains and go for a hike as we usually do.

When you and I work together, you see a lot more of Bali. He’s usually closeby whenever I lead coaching calls or group programs.

Before we sign off, check out Bali’s 12 Life Lessons!

Trust me, he’s the real coach here!