There’s something about animals, especially dogs, that makes them the most comforting kind of company. Perhaps it’s because they can’t speak, so they don’t judge, question or try to fix you. They simply stay.
They sit beside you through the hard days, quietly reminding you that you’re not alone. Their loyalty is unwavering, and their love is uncomplicated and unconditional.
Sometimes, the comfort a dog gives you is something no human can offer.
Things were going swimmingly well on our morning walk until Logan’s weakness for feathered creatures got the better of him. He was so focused on chasing ducks that he forgot his aversion to water and followed them straight into the ocean.
The last time something like this happened, he was with a dog trainer to work on recall. He strayed from the pack to go after bush turkeys and indulged in unsanctioned swims at the beach, which led to his suspension from the training facility.
Initially, this brought shame to our family, known for raising obedient overachievers, but we’ve since realised that Logan’s quirky pursuits add character, so now, we’re embracing his bird-brained adventures with pride.
I started school without speaking any English. Making friends felt impossible, and I spent much of that year on my own. Those lonely months shaped me in ways I couldn’t understand at the time, teaching me resilience, independence, and how much a simple act of kindness can mean to someone who feels invisible. They also showed me that friendship takes courage, and that you often have to make the first move. Those lessons became part of who I was and changed the way I treated people for the rest of my life.
I went from having a wonderful group of friends in sixth grade to starting high school without any of my primary school classmates. I found myself alone again, as if I were back in kindergarten. But this time, I already knew how friendships were built, and I quickly found my place once more.
By the time I graduated high school, I felt a genuine sense of belonging and had formed many meaningful friendships. That ability to connect with others has stayed with me into adulthood. Looking back, I believe those hard times made me a softer, more compassionate person.
Today, I am fortunate to remain close to friends from primary school, high school, university, church and every stage of life since. I cherish those friendships because they are a testament to the enduring value of investing in relationships and showing genuine care for one another.
Now, as a mother, I try to pass those lessons on to my children, reminding them that to have good friends, you first have to be one: kind, inclusive, and thoughtful. But I also know some lessons can’t be taught, only lived.
It breaks my heart to watch from the sidelines when they feel left out or lonely. Every instinct tells me to step in and protect them, but I hope these moments instead build their character, strengthen their resilience, and teach them empathy, just as they did me. If they learn to include others because they know what exclusion feels like, then their struggles may become one of life’s greatest gifts, not only for them but for everyone they meet.
Sometimes I wonder why God gave us the power to love and the gift of free will. He could have made us incapable of hurting one another. Instead, He gave us the choice to love or to leave, to build or to break, to heal or to wound.
Yet the very things that are meant to bind us: love, family, friendships, and relationships, are fragile in human hands. We forget to nurture them and take them for granted, stumbling through foolish decisions that ruin what we were supposed to cherish. We are God’s creations with fractured edges, capable of extraordinary kindness and unimaginable pain.
As a parent, one of the hardest lessons is accepting that you cannot protect your children from every heartbreak or fix their mistakes. Sometimes they are the ones whose hearts are shattered, and other times they are the ones holding the hammer. Loving them means embracing both truths and praying they grow through each one.
Maybe that is where God is found. In His endless willingness to keep loving us through our imperfections.