08/19/2026
When I got Monty his paw pads were smooth, his body unscarred. He was small and growing at a pace we couldn’t keep up with. He was sick all the time. We spent the first year at the vet desperate for answers on why he couldn’t keep weight on, why he was waking me up multiple times every night to go to the bathroom and couldn’t keep food down. On top of that he couldn’t be kept in a crate without a complete meltdown and couldn’t be left outside the crate without destroying (and consuming) everything in sight. His prey drive took him through wood fences, snapping leashes, off the side of cliffs and scarred my own body. I use to say - “give me 2 years, he’ll be better.”
There’s a lot of things I would change in the way I raised him, but I didn’t know. Together, we learned how to give him the best life and me less stress. There are a lot of people to thank for who the dog he is today.
We’ve lived in 4 different homes, traveled to 22 states, camped so many nights and explored many corners of the US. He’s the reason I fell in love with the outdoors, the reason I fell in love with Utah, the reason my best friends are my best friends. If you’ve ever seen him out exploring, then you can understand his true love to be outside. Together, he more begrudgingly, we’ve welcomed over 65 foster dogs into our home. He was there when my broken heart healed. He was there when I started my business and watched me turn it into what it is today, hanging out with me during those 4am editing nights.
Monty’s the dog most people wouldn’t ask for but he’s the dog that changed my life. I wouldn’t have it any other way (ok ok ya there are some changes I’d make). Your pads are rough now, your body scarred but I still see the boy I knew running through the woods, making questionable decisions about what rocks to jump off of in the desert and checking in on me. You’ve aged like fine w**e. Happy 8 years my dude.