Written by Michelle Edwards

A Journey of Love, Loss, and Healing. 
My love for dogs has always been a defining part of my life. They are not just pets — they are my family, my comfort, and my joy.

In 2017, I lost two of the most important people in my world — my mother and grandfather — just three weeks apart. That period reshaped me completely. Through that grief, my pets became my strength, their unconditional love a reminder that even in the darkest times, love endures. 
In the years that followed, my heart continued to grow through my bond with my beloved Tripod and Krayon. Losing them — Tripod in 2023 and Krayon in 2024 — was devastating. Krayon’s passing came just three days before my birthday, a day I share with my mum. That loss felt unbearable, intertwining my grief for them both.
Still, love found a way back to me.

My partner and I welcomed two beautiful puppies, Kashew and Slushie, into our lives. They brought light and laughter back into our home and reminded me that my heart, though bruised, was still capable of deep love.
What I didn’t know at the time was that in the same month Krayon passed away — November 2024 — two tiny lives were beginning. While sitting at home in mourning, I came across photos of two precious pups, Slushie and Krumble. I instantly knew they were meant to be ours. By January, we had brought them home.
 They became my little companions in every sense — joining me at school each day and spreading happiness to everyone they met. They were a source of healing, comfort, and pure love.

But that summer, tragedy struck once more. Just three days after marking the anniversary of my mother’s passing, baby Krumble was tragically taken from us and her sister in a dog attack. The pain of losing her was beyond words. I felt broken, depleted, and consumed by guilt — as though I had failed both of them.

During this time, something unexpectedly meaningful unfolded: I had the chance to experience the tattooing process alongside a close friend who had also recently lost a loved one. Sharing that space — the quiet, the emotion, the healing — became its own kind of magic. We sat with our grief together, honouring the ones we lost while supporting each other through the waves of memory and pain. It was comforting in a way I didn’t know I needed, to feel understood without having to say a word, and to go through this transformative moment not just for myself, but with someone who was walking their own path of loss.

In that sea of grief, I came across Kerri’s practice. Something about her work spoke deeply to me — the compassion, the meaning, the way she helps others carry their loved ones in a way that transcends loss. I reached out, and only a few months later, I now carry my precious baby Krumble with me through Kerri’s magnificent art.
The experience was humbling beyond measure.

Kerri gave me something I didn’t know I could feel again — peace. Knowing that a part of Krumble is now with me brings me calmness and comfort every single day. Even more beautifully, her sister, Slushie, often focuses on the area where I carry Krumble — as if she knows her sister is still close by.
I am profoundly grateful to Kerri for her kindness, empathy, and the incredible work she does. She has a rare gift — one that brings healing to broken hearts like mine.

This journey has forever changed me, and I will carry the memory of this experience, and Kerri’s compassion, for the rest of my life.