Your dog is your mirror…

Your dog is your mirror (a book by Kevin Behan).

Or how Luka mirrors my feelings…

Let me start from the beginning, for those who don’t know what our journey together looks like.

Luka is the son of Rusty & Ojo, born in Poland on January 4th, 2024. Alex, I, and our pack moved to Sweden on March 24th, 2024, and Luka joined us on April 21st — right in the middle of our chaos. Not just the chaos of a new rental house, but mostly the chaos in my head and my heart.

From the very first day Luka came home, we’ve been trying to find our way together — learning how to play, train, show, and simply live and enjoy life in Sweden. And truthfully… it hasn’t always been easy.

But before anything else, I need to say how deeply grateful I am for the two incredible women and trainers I met along the way. Thank you for guiding me with Luka, for supporting me, and for continuing to believe in us — even in the moments when I struggle to believe in myself.

Last week, after yet another chaotic rally obedience training, something really hit me. I realized just how deeply connected Luka and I are — how much he reflects what I feel inside.

Last Monday, a new series of rally obedience classes started. There were familiar faces, new dogs, new owners — and of course Jennifer (#thebest, always!). The training took place in a completely new outdoor location for us, filled with unfamiliar sounds, smells, and distractions.

Even though we walked around for some time to give Luka time to explore and settle in, I could feel it immediately — he was overwhelmed. Distracted. Restless. Struggling to focus on me.

And the more he struggled, the more I felt it too.

He couldn’t concentrate, didn’t respond the way he normally does, couldn’t complete the exercises — even though he knows the different obedience exercises very well and can perform them all off-leash… at home.

I felt frustration building up inside me. And then disappointment. And then that familiar heaviness.

I ended up quitting halfway through the course, trying so hard to hold back my tears — until I finally let them fall later, alone in the car on my way home.

Only afterwards did I truly understand.

Luka wasn’t just being “difficult.”
He was reflecting me.

Because deep down, I still feel it too —
overwhelmed…
stressed…
insecure…

Still trying to find my place here in Sweden. Still trying to adapt, to belong, to understand. Sometimes feeling like I’m failing. Sometimes feeling like I just want to give up.

And just like Luka in that moment, I don’t always know how to handle new situations. The language barrier makes it harder — feeling like I don’t fully understand what’s happening around me can be incredibly isolating.

Thankfully, I can lean on “svengelska” and English with Jennifer and Helena — and that helps more than I can explain.

But it’s not all heavy. Not at all.

Because there are also those beautiful moments — our good moments.

Moments where everything feels lighter. Safer.
And I can feel Luka change too. Or maybe… he changes me.

Like when we’re out in the woods, game tracking with Helena. No stress (well, just a little, hoping we don’t get lost somewhere if Luka loses the track), no chaos, no overwhelming distractions. Just quiet, focus, and trust.

In those moments, there’s space to breathe.
To reconnect.
To feel safe again.

And Helena has become more than just a trainer — she feels like a safe place for both of us.

*We passed our first (and meanwhile also second) game tracking trial!*

So I’ll keep going.
For Luka.
For us.
For our whole pack.

I’ll keep working on myself — becoming stronger, more stable, less afraid. Becoming the dog mom Luka -and the whole pack- needs me to be.

Because he deserves that.
And maybe… so do I.

Love you all to the moon and back.
This journey wouldn’t be possible without my pack — and without my rock, Alex. 💛

TWO YEARS… WHERE HAS TIME GONE?