In Memory of Monty

It is with great love, along with great sorrow, that I share the news that my precious Monty dog has left his body behind to rejoin the spirit world. It’s taken me a while to be ready to share this news because I loved him and still love him so much that I wanted to do this notice justice without writing a book (I did that too; more on that later).

Monty and I found each other in October 2010, and he passed out of his body on May 19, 2025. He started his life as a stray mutt. Found wandering the streets of a small town, he was brought to a shelter and was one day from being euthanized when he was picked up by a foster-based rescue organization. Just think of that. The most beautiful dog in the world. The dog who changed my life.

I loved Monty with all my heart from the moment we first met, and he flopped into my lap. Our love only grew with time, expanding my heart immeasurably. Our love changed me. He helped me to find courage and strength inside myself, and most of all, he helped me tap into an infinite well of joy, and I know I did the same thing for him.

Our daily routine was a joy, filled with laughter, tenderness, play, and endless kisses on his sleek velvet face (called “kiss attacks”). We shared so many fabulous adventures! He helped me find my husband Kent, who became his second favorite person in the world! We hiked and swam in the Sierra and Cascade Mountains, all along the Pacific coastline, in the San Juan Islands, Lake Pend Orielle in Idaho. He picked wild huckleberries (with lots of lip smacking), slept in tents, swam in mountain lakes and creeks, raced across mountain meadows. He accompanied us to bakeries and coffee shops and wandered through sunflower mazes, hunted for Christmas trees. We took him everywhere that we possibly could, and he loved it all. One of our favorite places was Santa Barbara, California. We would stay at a little old-fashioned motel about a block from the beach. In the morning, we would get our coffee and before we were fully awake and caffeinated, he would lead us straight to his favorite beach to chase balls and swim in the sea. Seeing his joy expanded mine immeasurably. As he aged and he needed more help and care, he accepted these new gestures of love from me with great patience and appreciation. Towards the end of his life, there was a very tender bond that we shared as I gently cleaned his bum, wiped his eyes, helped him stand. I loved every aspect of caring for him, every moment - even the hard ones.

Over his lifetime, his confidence grew and so did mine. We taught each other unconditional love and trust, the very best gifts there are.

Quite simply, Monty was magic for me. My first and last smiles of the day were for Monty. All I had to do was look at him and I would be filled with love and know that somehow . . . inexplicably. . . all is indeed well with the world.

I began writing a book about our love story in late summer, 2023. Monty was diagnosed with cancer in October 2023, and the book project was shelved for some time. But when I picked it up again it seemed as though the writing took on a life of its own. I finished the book in early May 2025. Monty waited to leave until after I finished it. The book is titled Heart Dog. It is my love letter to Monty. I am now starting the process of looking for a publisher.

A line from Auden’s famous poem resonates strongly for me now: “He was my North, my South, my East and West” . . . yes, indeed. 

And now, he is my inner compass; I know that if I follow my heart and stay true to the love we shared, I shall never lose my way.

As Monty's health declined, and I suspected that I might need to help him transition, I asked Tammy Billups (internationally known interface therapist, author, mentor, and friend) to assist with Monty’s transition to spirit, by being present energetically and spiritually. Afterwards, she told me that he shared with her that he will NOT miss his body, except he wishes he could keep the places on his face that his mom kisses. This surprised her, she’d never received a message like this. This was certainly a special message for me. You see, Monty was like the velveteen rabbit in the child’s storybook - if his hair hadn’t been able to regrow, I’m sure I would have kissed him bald. There was a special silky place on his cheek that was my favorite spot, kissed dozens of times every day. And as he passed out of his body, this was exactly what I was doing - kissing his face continuously. I explained to Tammy that his body was so sore, and breaking down in so many ways, I’m not at all surprised that he feels relieved to leave it behind. Days later, thinking about his last moments, feeling a sort of panicked grief rise up in me with that memory, I suddenly felt his presence next to me and heard the message “I’m new!” shared with excitement. I had thought of him as “free” but the word “new” was not something that came from me, it was not a word that I ever would have thought to apply to Monty’s spirit self – that was Monty’s word, shared with me in order to lift me up from my sadness, my regrets, my pain. And with it, he gave me permission to embrace the new: our continuing loving collaboration - heart to heart, spirit to spirit; he gave me permission to let go of clinging to the hard memories of his physical suffering at the end, and the impossible decision that I made to help him leave.

Monty's beloved friend Supi, the pup that we found abandoned in the forest in 2023, enriched his life so much. She stayed with him and watched over him closely during his last few difficult days, including during his last minutes, when she chose to position herself just a few inches from his nose. In those last moments, we were all together, breathing the very same air.

My body aches for his presence. Grief sometimes swallows me. But his message to me is TRUST. And I do. When my love for him fills me up, I can feel his presence, and it is then that I can still kiss his black velvet face and know that he can feel it.

I know it sounds funny, but his spirit self also reminds me to brush my teeth and take my vitamins! His love for me seems to be seeping into my everyday, through encouraging greater love and care for myself. This particular feeling of self-value feels different than my own . . . and it arises at odd moments, like when I’m considering just eating a granola bar for lunch when I feel sad, lonely and low energy. It feels like he is energetically intervening, and suddenly I feel a sense of pride and energy arise, along with the inner conviction that I’m worth taking care of. This is coming from Monty; I can feel his strength, love, and confidence in me. Isn’t that remarkable? He’s still taking care of me!

In the coming months, I will be expanding my website and my offerings, as I also work toward publishing Heart Dog. Monty inspired the creation of Montheart Animal Communication, and I know that his spirit is right here by my side as I continue our work fostering understanding and nurturing the deep heart connections between people and their beloved animals, as they travel their own amazing and sacred journeys together.

Thank you to everyone who loved Monty or was ever kind to any stray or hurt animal. Your love makes a difference. In honor of Monty, the next time you feel that you are ready to add to your animal family, please consider fostering or adopting a shelter animal - they have so much love to give! It could change your life. It changed mine.

With love from Andrea & Monty (in spirit), and little Supi.