When Your Pet Becomes Your Guide: Healing Through Unconditional Love

When I was 20, I got a dog. I named him Chico. He was such a little light for me during a dark period of my life. 

The way I received him was an act of Godly intent. 

I didn’t want a dog. I didn’t really care for dogs or pets. My life was too hectic for that.

I was already fractured. I was working 4 jobs and going to school full-time (I honestly don’t even know how…).  My family was going through a divorce. My grandparents were ill. I was having digestive symptoms that were later diagnosed as ulcerative colitis. I was running on fumes.

One day, my dad came home and asked me to find him a German Shepherd. I’m not sure why he wanted a dog at the time, but that was the task at hand.

As I was looking for said German Shepherd, a friend of mine directed me to a website for a breeder that was about an hour's drive north of where I lived. They had plenty of dogs on this site, all of them small breeds, none of which my dad would have wanted. I don’t know what kept me on this website long enough to find Chico. 

Maybe it was my spirit team guiding me.(Although, I’m not sure I believed in the spiritual realm at the time.)

I found a short video of these sweet little Yorkie poodles trotting along and playing, and one little guy caught my attention. My heart said, “This one is mine”. So the next day I went to pick him up.

The breeder brought them in one by one, and we had to sanitize between each puppy. It was a strange experience. But once they handed me Chico, my heart did the thing again. I just knew that one was the one I saw in the video. 

He was so curious. Even though he was tired, with his eyes closed, he sniffed and licked me. He was the sweetest little thing I had ever seen. So small he could fit into my palm perfectly.

Of course, I didn’t wait for one second. I paid whatever they wanted and took him home.

My little, sweet Chico

But of course, there’s a point to this story. So let's fast-forward 13 years: my sweet little dog has crossed to the other side. 

For years, I’ve been consciously dismantling myself. Every time I released a trauma pattern, a limiting belief, an old identity… something precious would shatter as confirmation. A cherished necklace would break. A friendship would end. My plants would die and resurrect. The universe was mirroring my internal housecleaning. Some energetic representation of the release.

The last year has been truly shifting for me. I’ve felt myself change deeply. I’ve finally started letting go of old identities so that I might flourish in new, healthy ones. My views on life have transformed drastically. I’ve worked with mentors and read books that have challenged me to look at myself in ways that were unpleasant. 

Chico’s passing made me realize that this was the last release of an old self. A self that was in pain, a self that was truly suffering. He was the little light that God sent to help me through the dark times. 

He was pure love. Unconditional love. Something I had never felt before. 

He kept my heart open in some of the most dreadful times of my life. He was exactly what I needed to become who I was meant to be.

And as always, God has a plan. I transformed and released enough that I no longer carry the light outside me, in a small, sweet dog. 

It’s all very bittersweet.

A friend of mine told me once that certain emotions feel the same in the body; it’s really a matter of thought that makes them positive or negative.

My grief is pure love wearing a different face. It aches in my chest knowing I’ll never feel his soft fur or hear his familiar sounds again. And somehow, that same sensation that breaks me also holds me. Because the depth of my pain is the depth of my love—and I wouldn’t trade that pain for anything. 

He was here as the support and unconditional love my younger self desperately needed. When Chico crossed over, I understood: this was my final release. Not of him, of the version of me that needed him to survive. The traumatized self that couldn’t access love, peace, or wholeness alone. He came to teach me how to be whole. Now that I’ve learned the lesson, he completes his sacred work.

The universe sends us guides in the most unexpected packages. Wrapped in fur, hidden in coincidence, disguised as ‘bad timing.’ Most people miss them entirely. But if you’re paying attention, if you’re listening, every person, every pet, every circumstance is your teacher.