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Category: Our “Employees”
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From Baby to Mama (and Back Again)
When Our Tiny Whippet Became a Mom: Fuega’s Surprise Litter
At about 15 months old, Fuega had a surprise for us. Actually, she had several surprises—four of them, to be exact. And if you think a tiny tornado is impressive, wait until you see a tiny tornado who’s also a new mom.
The Surprise We Didn’t See Coming
We’ll be honest—we weren’t planning on puppies. Fuega was still so small, still our baby in many ways, and we’d been focused on getting her to a stable weight before considering spaying. At barely 17.5 inches tall and fluctuating in that 17-20 pound range, the idea of her becoming a mama seemed like something for the distant future, if at all.
Smudge, our other whippet, had different ideas entirely.
The pregnancy itself was as dramatic as everything else Fuega does. Remember how she approaches life with maximum enthusiasm and minimum planning? Motherhood was no exception. One day she was our tiny tornado, the next day she was our tiny tornado who was clearly expecting and had very definite opinions about how this whole thing should go.
The Smallest Mama with the Biggest Heart
Watching Fuega navigate pregnancy was like watching someone try to carry six suitcases while riding a unicycle. Physically, it should have been impossible. This little girl who struggled to maintain 20 pounds was suddenly responsible for growing four puppies while still being, essentially, a puppy herself.
But if there’s one thing we’ve learned about Fuega, it’s that she doesn’t let physics or logic interfere with her plans. She approached pregnancy the same way she approached everything else—with complete confidence and the assumption that she could figure it out as she went along.
Her appetite finally stabilized (pregnancy will do that), and for the first time since we’d brought her home, we stopped worrying about her weight dropping below 17 pounds. She had work to do, and Fuega has always been excellent at focusing on the task at hand.
Four Little Tornadoes
When the puppies arrived, it was like watching magic happen. Here was our tiny girl, who just months before had been the baby of the family, suddenly transformed into the most attentive, protective mama you could imagine. The strategic limping disappeared entirely—she had real responsibilities now.
Six perfect little whippet puppies, each one a tiny miracle and each one clearly inheriting their mama’s (and daddy’s) personality from day one. They were active from the start, already showing signs of the “run first, think later” approach to life that makes Fuega who she is.
For several months, our workshop took on a whole different energy. Instead of one tiny tornado, we had five. Instead of Rex having one devoted shadow, he had a whole parade following him around. The puppies learned the sounds of the shop, the rhythm of the workday, and the art of strategic positioning for maximum treat potential.
March Departures and Mixed Emotions
From mid-February through March the puppies left for their forever homes. Each one had found their perfect family, just like Fuega had found us that day in Missouri. It was bittersweet in the way these things always are—pride in knowing they were ready for their own adventures, sadness in seeing our extended pack get smaller.
Fuega handled the transition with typical grace, which is to say she threw herself back into being our devoted shop dog with renewed energy. If she missed her babies, she channeled that into being even more attentive to Rex, even more present in the workshop, even more committed to her role as the heart of Sarkanys Rising.
Back to Being Our Tiny Tornado
Today, as I write this, Fuega is getting ready to turn two on September 24th. She’s back to her familiar weight fluctuations (17 to 20 pounds, depending on whether running or eating won the day), back to her strategic limping when treats are involved, and back to sleeping on Rex’s side of the bed with her blanket arranged just so.
Motherhood changed her in subtle ways. She’s a little more confident, a little more settled in her role as shop dog extraordinaire. But she’s still the same girl who chose Rex that day in Missouri, still the same tiny tornado who approaches life with maximum enthusiasm and minimum caution.
The one thing that hasn’t changed? Her intelligence. That strategic limp is back in full force, deployed with even more precision than before. We’re onto her game, though. In fact, we’re hoping that if she ever decides to give up the act entirely, we might just take her coursing—let her use those sighthound instincts for what they were bred to do.
Imagine Fuega, all 17.5 inches of her, chasing a lure across an open field at full speed. No doggie doors to navigate, no furniture to avoid, just pure whippet joy in motion. Of course, first we’d need her to admit that both legs work perfectly fine, which might be the biggest challenge yet.
Still Choosing Us Every Day
Looking at Fuega now—seasoned shop dog, former mama, eternal tiny tornado—it’s clear that some things never change. She still chooses Rex every morning when she wakes up. She still treats the workshop as her kingdom. She still believes that enthusiasm can overcome physics, and honestly, she’s usually right.
She’ll always be the little girl who walked straight to Rex and decided he belonged to her. Motherhood was just one more adventure in a life that’s been full of them from the very beginning. And knowing Fuega, there are plenty more adventures ahead.
That’s our Fuega—tiny in stature, enormous in personality, and proof that sometimes the smallest tornadoes leave the biggest impact on your heart. Thanks for following her story with us.
Whether you found us through the woodworking or stayed for the whippet tales, we’re grateful you’re part of the Sarkanys Rising family. Every piece we create and every story we share is better because you’re here to experience it with us.
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Tiny Tornado Takes Over
Our Tiny Whippet’s First Days: When Smart Meets Mischievous
Fuega had been home exactly three days when we realized we hadn’t adopted a dog—we’d invited a tiny hurricane to live with us. And this hurricane had opinions about everything.
Remember how she was barely five pounds when she chose Rex at my sister’s house? Well, it turns out that being the smallest doesn’t mean being the quietest. Not by a long shot.
The Great Weight Fluctuation Drama
First came the discovery that our little girl had what we now call “selective eating syndrome.” For a whippet—especially one at the very bottom of the breed’s size range—maintaining weight is crucial. Fuega’s ideal weight hovers around 20 pounds, which sounds reasonable until you realize she treats those numbers like suggestions rather than requirements.
One day she’ll be a solid 20 pounds, looking perfectly healthy and proportioned. The next day? Down to 17 pounds because she’d decided that running was more important than eating, thank you very much. When you’re human-sized, a three-pound fluctuation might not seem like much. When your entire body weight is only 20 pounds, it’s the equivalent of a 150-pound person dropping to 127 pounds in a day.
We learned quickly that Fuega operates on the “eat to fuel the fun” principle. Food is just the means to the end, and the end is always, always running.
Fuega and Smudge meet “Fuega Run Fast” Becomes a Daily Reality
Speaking of running, we discovered our tiny tornado has exactly two speeds: asleep and absolutely flying. There’s no middle ground, no casual stroll, no “let me think about this first.” When Fuega decides to move, physics becomes optional and depth perception is apparently just a suggestion.
The phrase “Fuega run fast” became part of our daily vocabulary, usually shouted in warning to anyone in her potential flight path. She gets so excited that she forgets little things like doorframes, furniture legs, and the basic laws of physics. The doggie door became her nemesis—or rather, she became its nemesis. The fact that our kid’s AmStaff also uses that door? Minor detail. Fuega would bolt through at full speed, sometimes with the much larger dog, creating what can only be described as a furry traffic jam.
Daily bumps and scrapes became as routine as morning coffee. Not from neglect or danger, but from pure, unbridled enthusiasm for life. Her worst punishment wasn’t punishment. It was forcing her to stay in one place because she had run into something and needed to rest a limb.
The Birth of a Con Artist
But here’s where Fuega’s intelligence really started to show. After a few weeks of genuine minor injuries from her “run first, look later” approach to life, we noticed something interesting. The limp didn’t always match the leg that had been bumped. Sometimes the limp appeared on days when nothing had happened at all.
One thing Fuega is, is SMART.
She’d figured out that a little paw held just barely off the ground meant immediate attention, concerned voices, and—most importantly—treats. Lots of treats. She’d developed what we now call her “strategic limp,” and she deployed it with the precision of a tiny, furry strategist.
Watch her in the yard when she thinks no one is looking? Perfect four-legged locomotion. The second she spots Rex coming outside with a treat? Instant, heartbreaking limp. The performance would make Broadway stars jealous.
Shop Dog Extraordinaire
Despite all the drama, or maybe because of it, Fuega quickly established herself as Rex’s shadow. She claimed the title of shop dog with the same determination she’d shown in choosing him that first day in Missouri. Where Rex goes, Fuega follows—limping or not, depending on her audience.
The workshop became her domain. She learned the sounds of different tools, the rhythm of Rex’s workday, and exactly which spots provided the best view of all the action while staying safely out of the way. For a sighthound bred to hunt and run, she adapted to shop life with surprising grace.
Well, grace might be overstating it. Let’s say she adapted with enthusiasm.
Bedtime Negotiations
Perhaps nowhere is Fuega’s personality more evident than in her sleeping arrangements. Remember how whippets need soft bedding and warmth? Fuega took this breed requirement and turned it into an art form.
She sleeps on Rex’s side of the bed. This is non-negotiable. But only if she has a blanket. Not just any blanket—her blanket, properly arranged to her specifications. The negotiation process can take several minutes of circling, pawing, and rearranging until everything meets her exacting standards.
For a dog who weighs 17-20 pounds depending on the week, she has managed to claim a disproportionate amount of bed real estate. Rex, being completely wrapped around her tiny paw, considers this perfectly reasonable.
The Tiny Tornado’s Kingdom
Looking back on those first few months, it’s clear that Fuega didn’t just join our family—she reorganized it around her needs, wants, and considerable personality. Every day brought new adventures, new creative interpretations of “good behavior,” and new evidence that size has absolutely nothing to do with impact.
She’d chosen Rex that day in Missouri, but it turns out she’d chosen all of us. Our routines, our hearts, and our understanding of what it means to share your life with a tiny tornado who runs on pure joy and strategic thinking.
Next time, we’ll tell you about Fuega’s biggest surprise yet—the day our little girl became a mama, and how that changed everything (and nothing) about our brilliant tiny tornado.
Thanks for following Fuega’s story with us. Whether you’re here for the woodworking or the whippet tales, we’re grateful you’re part of our Sarkanys Rising family!
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The Day Fuega Chose Us
The Day Our Tiny Whippet Chose Her Forever Dad
You know how they say you don’t choose your dog—your dog chooses you? We used to think that was just something people said to make a good story. Then we met Fuega.
It was a crisp day in Missouri when we made the drive to Dawn’s sister’s kennel, Winquest. We weren’t exactly shopping for another dog. We already had one whippet, and honestly, that felt like plenty of adventure for our household. But family is family, and when your sister breeds some of the most beautiful AKC registered whippets you’ve ever seen, well… sometimes you end up taking a “just looking” trip that changes everything.
The Smallest One Had the Biggest Plans
The litter was eight weeks old—that perfect age when whippet puppies are equal parts adorable chaos and pure potential. These weren’t just any whippets, mind you. Whippets are medium-sized sighthounds, originally bred by working folks in northern England who crossed Greyhounds with Italian Greyhounds and terriers. They wanted something with all the speed and hunting instinct of a Greyhound but small enough to feed without going broke. Smart thinking, really.
As we walked into the puppy area, several puppies tumbled around, doing that thing puppies do—being impossibly cute and making you question every responsible adult decision you’ve ever made. But one little girl, the tiniest of the bunch, had different plans entirely.
She took one look at Rex and made her decision.
When You Know, You Know
While her littermates played and explored and generally acted like normal puppies, this little fawn and white girl—who would soon become our Fuega—walked straight over to Rex with the confidence of a dog three times her size. Not to Dawn, not to the space between us, but directly to Rex. She sat down next to his feet and looked up at him as if to say, “Well, here I am. When are we going home?”
Rex, who can be pretty stoic about most things, melted immediately. You could see it in his face—this wasn’t going to be a “just looking” trip anymore.
At barely five pounds, she was small even for a whippet puppy. In fact, she’d grow up to be just 17.5 inches tall, right at the very minimum of the breed standard. But what she lacked in size, she more than made up for in sheer determination and personality.
The Decision That Wasn’t Really a Decision
“She’s the smallest of the litter,” Dawn’s sister mentioned, probably thinking we’d want to know about potential size concerns. What she didn’t realize was that we were already completely gone. This tiny girl had claimed Rex, and by extension, our whole family.
We spent another hour at the house, watching the puppies play, learning about their personalities, going through all the motions of responsible puppy evaluation. But honestly? The decision had been made in those first thirty seconds when a tiny whippet puppy looked at a grown man and decided he belonged to her.
The ride home was filled with plans and preparations, name discussions and the kind of excited energy that comes with knowing your family is about to get a little bigger and a lot more interesting. We had no idea then that we were bringing home a tiny tornado, a shop dog extraordinaire, and the smartest little con artist we’d ever meet.
But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. That’s a story for another day.
For now, it’s enough to say that sometimes the best decisions aren’t really decisions at all. Sometimes they’re just a tiny whippet puppy who knows exactly where she belongs.
Next time, we’ll tell you what happened when our little tornado actually made it home and discovered the full extent of her kingdom. Spoiler alert: she had opinions about pretty much everything.
As always, we’re here if you have questions or just want to chat about wood, dogs, or the beautiful chaos that happens when the two worlds collide in our workshop!
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What 2020 Stole and Gave: How Smudge Became My Perfect Companion
Sometimes life takes away exactly what you thought you wanted and gives you exactly what you actually needed. That’s the story of Smudge’s journey from show prospect to perfect companion—a transformation that happened not despite 2020’s chaos, but because of it.
The Show Career That Never Was
When Smudge arrived in February 2020, I had plans. Big plans. Here was this beautiful whippet with perfect “BOO” markings, substantial build, and classic breed characteristics. I was ready to dive back into the dog show world after being away for way too long. I had my show prospect, I had my enthusiasm, and I had my timeline.
Then March happened. And April. And suddenly, dog shows weren’t happening, travel wasn’t happening, and the whole world had pressed pause on normal life.
For a while, I held onto those original plans. Surely things would get back to normal soon. Surely there would be opportunities. Surely the show career was just delayed, not derailed. But as weeks turned into months, and months stretched toward a year, something interesting began to happen.
I stopped missing the shows I wasn’t attending and started appreciating the dog I was living with every single day.
The Gift of Uninterrupted Bonding
What 2020 stole in opportunities, it gave back in time. Pure, uninterrupted, focused time with Smudge during those crucial first months when he was still figuring out who he was going to become. Instead of weekends spent traveling to shows, we spent them just being together. Instead of training for the ring, we trained for life. Rex was still working at the VA so it tended to be just me & Smudge.
During the last three years of my migraine journey, when the world felt overwhelming and uncertain, Smudge became my anchor. Not because he was trained to be, but because that’s simply who he is. While I was dealing with health challenges and the stress of everything happening in the world, he was learning to read my energy, to be present when I needed steadiness, to remind me about physical limitations in his gentle, non-pushy way.
The dog who was supposed to be performing for judges became the dog who was perfectly attuned to just one person—me. And honestly, that feels like the better deal for both of us.
From Prospect to Papa
Life had more surprises in store. In early 2023, Smudge briefly took on a new role when Fuega had her unexpected litter. Our gentle giant became a father, though true to his personality, he approached parenthood with the same calm dignity he brings to everything else (except storms or me leaving the house).
While Fuega handled the hands-on puppy care with her typical intensity and strategic thinking, Smudge provided what he’s always provided—steady, reassuring presence. He wasn’t a hovering father or an overly involved one. He was just there, solid and dependable, letting Fuega do her thing while making sure his family felt safe.
When the puppies left for their forever homes this past March, Smudge handled the transition exactly as you’d expect. No drama, no obvious pining, just acceptance and a gentle return to the rhythm of our daily life.
The Trip That Proved Our Bond
That same March, Smudge made his only trip away from me since arriving in 2020—a journey back north to be neutered. After Fuega’s surprise motherhood, we decided it was time to make sure there wouldn’t be any more unplanned litters, giving her the chance to grow up without the responsibility of raising puppies.
It was a necessary trip, but saying goodbye—even temporarily—was harder than I expected. This dog who had become such a constant, reassuring presence in my life was suddenly not there, and the house felt different without his substantial, calming energy.
When he came back, the reunion was everything you’d hope for from a dog who’d spent four years becoming perfectly attuned to his person. Not dramatic or over-the-top—that’s not Smudge’s style—but warm, solid, and completely right.
Almost Six and Perfectly Himself
As I write this, Smudge is approaching his sixth birthday—that same October 20th that started our whole story. His muzzle is greying more noticeably now, and that distinguished one-sided mustache is almost completely faded. The changes are subtle but real, reminders that our time together isn’t infinite.
But age has only refined what was already perfect about him. He’s still my mental health anchor, still my physical limitation reminder, still my one and only good boy who helps keep my world stable when everything else feels uncertain. If anything, maturity has made him even better at reading what I need and providing exactly that.
The bodybuilder build is still there, though we’re managing some post-neutering weight concerns. The “BOO” markings are still clear, still perfectly Halloween-themed for his October birthday. The calm presence that fills whatever room he’s in hasn’t diminished at all.
What We Found Instead of What We Lost
Looking back, losing that show career wasn’t really a loss at all. It was a redirection toward something more valuable—a bond built on daily life rather than weekend performances, a relationship based on mutual support rather than competition goals.
Smudge never became the show dog I originally envisioned. Instead, he became something better: the perfect companion for the life I actually have. He helps me navigate my health challenges with patience and understanding. He reminds me to slow down when I need to, simply by being his calm, steady self. He provides the kind of uncomplicated devotion that makes even difficult days feel manageable.
The timing that once seemed so wrong—arriving just as the world shut down—now feels prophetic. I got exactly the dog I needed exactly when I needed him, even though it wasn’t the dog I thought I wanted.
Still My Birthday Present
Six years later, Smudge remains the best birthday present I’ve ever received, even if it was four months late and came wrapped in winter weather delays and global pandemic chaos. He’s proof that sometimes the universe knows what it’s doing, even when we can’t see the plan.
From show prospect to gentle giant, from father figure to devoted companion, from delayed birthday puppy to steady presence in uncertain times—Smudge has been exactly what each moment required. As he heads toward his golden years, I can’t imagine a better companion for whatever comes next.
That’s our Smudge—substantial in build, gentle in spirit, and perfect in timing. Sometimes the best gifts come disguised as disappointments, and sometimes the dog you never expected becomes exactly the dog you always needed. Fuega is coming up NEXT!
Whether you came for the woodworking stories or stayed for the whippet tales, thank you for being part of our Sarkanys Rising family. Every story we share, every piece we create, is better because you’re here to share it with us.
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Meet Smudge: Our Halloween Whippet Who Takes Up Three Times the Space
Smudge Part 2
If you’ve been following Fuega’s story elsewhere, you know she’s our tiny tornado—17.5 inches of pure whirlwind energy; you will see more here soon. Smudge is her complete opposite in almost every way. He’s what I like to call our gentle giant, though “giant” is relative when you’re talking about whippets. He’s not oversized according to Lennah (and she should know), but he’s built like a bodybuilder who happens to be the same height as you but somehow takes up three times as much space.
Standing next to Fuega, Smudge looks like a small Greyhound. We’ve actually had people ask what track we rescued him from, which always makes us laugh. This boy has never seen a racetrack in his life, but he certainly has the presence of a retired champion.
Born for Halloween
The universe has a sense of humor about timing, and Smudge is living proof. Born on October 20th—just eleven days before Halloween—he came into this world with markings so perfectly themed for the season that you’d think someone planned it.
If you look at him from one side, his black markings spell out the letter “B.” Turn him around, and the other side clearly shows “OO.” Put it together and you get “BOO”—literally the perfect Halloween dog, marked from birth for his spooky season debut.
But the Halloween theme doesn’t stop there. When Smudge stretches out in that classic whippet sphinx pose, his markings look remarkably like the mask from the movie “Scream.” Though Sage’s friends see something entirely different when he’s pining at the window for me to come home—they think he looks more like a swish (I swear he has a head, he’s looking out a window), which honestly might be more accurate given his gentle nature.
The Fading Mustache and Other Charms
At almost seven years old now, Smudge is starting to show his age in the most distinguished way possible. His muzzle is beginning to grey, and he’s slowly losing what we’ve always called his “one-sided mustache”—a charming little marking that gave him an air of sophistication from puppyhood.
The changes are subtle but noticeable, like watching a favorite book fade gently over time. Each grey hair is a reminder of all the years we’ve shared, all the quiet moments of companionship, all the times he’s been exactly what I needed without even trying.
My Mental Health Anchor
Here’s where Smudge’s story becomes more than just amusing anecdotes about markings and size. He’s not just my companion—he’s my mental health anchor, my physical limitation reminder, and my steadfast good boy all rolled into one substantial whippet package.
During my migraine journey, when the world felt overwhelming and uncertain, Smudge was my constant. My migraines are gone but I have some very heavy mental health injuries from that time and Smudge is here for me to just “be” with. He doesn’t try to fix anything or demand attention when I’m struggling. He just exists, solid and reassuring, taking up his considerable space in the most comforting way possible.
He’s also become my gentle reminder about physical limitations. Not in a pushy way—Smudge doesn’t push anything—but in his quiet, observant manner that seems to say, “Maybe we should take this a little slower today.” He reads my energy better than I do sometimes, adjusting his own needs accordingly.
The Devotion That Defines Him
Since that day in February 2020 when Rex and I picked him up from our friend’s house (post-bath and looking like the handsome boy he was destined to become), Smudge has been my shadow. Not in the energetic, bouncing way that some dogs follow their people (though he has his moments), but with the steady, unwavering presence that only a true companion provides.
The only time we’ve been apart since he came home was this past March, when he made his trip back north to be neutered. It was a necessary journey—after Fuega’s surprise motherhood adventure, we decided it was time to prevent any future unplanned litters and let her grow up without the responsibility of more puppies.
Even that separation was brief, and the reunion was everything you’d expect from a dog who’d found his person and had no intention of leaving them again.
Size, Presence, and Heart
When people see Smudge, they’re often surprised by his substantial build. Whippets are supposed to be lean and elegant, and he certainly has the elegance part down. But he’s also got the kind of presence that fills a room, the way some people do without trying.
It’s not just his physical size—though he definitely has that bodybuilder quality that makes him seem bigger than his actual measurements. It’s his calm confidence, his steady gaze, his way of settling into a space like he belongs there completely.
Next to Fuega’s constant motion and strategic dramatics, Smudge is like a peaceful lake next to a rushing river. Both have their beauty, both serve their purpose, but one invites you to sit quietly and just breathe.
The Good Boy Extraordinaire
If Fuega is our con artist with her strategic limping, Smudge is our straight shooter. He doesn’t play games or put on performances. He’s just consistently, reliably, perfectly himself—my one and only good boy who helps keep my world stable when everything else feels uncertain.
Whether he’s sprawled across the floor in classic whippet fashion, keeping me company during a difficult day, or just being his solid, reassuring self in whatever corner of the house he’s claimed, Smudge represents something I didn’t know I was missing before he arrived: unwavering, uncomplicated devotion.
The timing of his arrival—delayed by weather but perfect for my needs—feels more prophetic every year. 2020 threw everyone’s world into chaos, but I had Smudge. My birthday present, delivered exactly when I needed him most.
Next time, we’ll talk about what 2020 gave and took away, how Smudge went from show prospect to perfect companion, and what it’s like watching your gentle giant grow into his golden years.
Every dog teaches us something different about love, loyalty, and living in the moment. Smudge’s lesson has been about the quiet power of simply showing up, day after day, exactly as you are. We’re grateful he chose to show up for us.
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When Fate Delivered My Perfect Birthday Present (Four Months Late)
They say timing is everything, but sometimes the universe has a sense of humor about it. Take Smudge, for instance—born on October 20th, 2019, which happened to mean he could come home exactly on my birthday. Eight weeks later, he should have been home with me for the holidays(December 20th if anyone is curious). Instead, it took until February 2020 for fate to finally deliver my birthday present, and looking back, the delay was exactly what we both needed.
The Birthday That Started Everything
2020 wasn’t exactly the ideal time to get a puppy—though nobody knew just how true that would become. I’d been wanting a dog for way too long, stuck in my migraine journey and feeling like the timing was never quite right. But when Lennah, my sister and Smudge’s breeder at Winquest, told me about this little boy born so he could come home on my exact birthday, well… sometimes the universe sends you a sign you can’t ignore.
Whippets have been bred as companions and hunters for generations, originally created by working-class folks in northern England who needed something with the speed and grace of a Greyhound but small enough to feed without going broke. These dogs were meant to be by their people’s sides, and from the moment I heard about this October 20th puppy, I knew he was meant to be by mine.
There was just one small problem with this perfect plan: shipping a puppy in winter.
When Weather Has Other Plans
December came and went. Then January. Lennah wouldn’t ship Smudge if the weather was too cold—and for good reason. Puppies are fragile, and winter shipping can be dangerous. But as the weeks stretched on, this little boy who was supposed to be my birthday puppy was getting bigger and more settled in Missouri while I was getting more anxious in Arizona.
The weather that year was particularly brutal in Kansas City, as if nature itself was testing just how much I wanted this dog. Every time we thought we’d found a shipping window, another storm would roll through. Smudge went from being an 8-week-old puppy to a 3-month-old puppy, then a 4-month-old puppy, all while I waited and wondered if this was meant to be after all.
But sometimes the best things come to those who wait—and to those who get creative.
A Phoenix Rising Solution
The breakthrough came in the form of a Phoenix dog show. There was a judge flying in from Kansas City who not only had her own airline-approved carrier but was willing to bring a passenger. After months of weather delays and shipping complications, my birthday puppy was finally going to make it home—not in a cargo hold, but in the cabin with someone who understood dogs.
When I got the call that Smudge was finally Arizona-bound, the relief was overwhelming. This little boy who’d been born for my birthday was finally going to be where he belonged, even if it was two months late.
The Friend Who Made It Official
Here’s where the story gets even better. Since Rex was still working and we only had one car, and given my own physical limitations, a friend volunteered to pick Smudge up from his flight. She didn’t just collect him and hand him over—she took him home first and gave him a proper bath, making sure he was clean and comfortable after his journey.
The next day, when Rex and I went to pick him up, I met my dog for the first time. Not a tiny puppy, but a confident 4-month-old (so confident) who already had opinions about the world and a personality bigger than his still-growing frame.
From that moment, Smudge has been my buddy. The only time we’ve been apart since was this past March, when he went back north to be neutered—a necessary trip to make sure we didn’t have any more surprise litters after Fuega’s adventure in motherhood (Fuega’s story starts after we finish Smudge’s).
When Fate Gets the Timing Right
Looking back, those winter delays that felt like obstacles were actually gifts. Instead of bringing home a tiny, fragile 8-week-old puppy right before the holidays, I got a more mature, sturdy young dog just as 2020 was about to turn all our lives upside down. Instead of dealing with house training and puppy chaos during the early pandemic months, I had a companion who was ready to help me navigate whatever came next.
Smudge arrived exactly when I needed him most, even though it wasn’t when I’d planned. Born for my birthday, delivered in the world’s time of need, and destined to become the steadfast companion who would help me keep my mental health intact through everything that followed.
Sometimes the universe knows what it’s doing, even when the timing seems all wrong.
Next time, we’ll tell you about life with our gentle giant—how a dog built like a bodybuilder became the most devoted companion we could ask for, complete with Halloween-perfect markings and a personality to match.
Thanks for following along with our family stories. Whether you’re here for the woodworking or the whippet tales, we’re grateful you’re part of the Sarkanys Rising journey with us. We are telling these stories while we are waiting to assure the website is fully online & ready after our hosting switch! Enjoy our employee stories!
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Meet Shadoe – Our Grumpy Old Man Cat (Who Was Never Actually Grumpy)
You know how the internet fell in love with Grumpy Cat, who—plot twist—wasn’t actually grumpy at all? Well, meet Shadoe, who seems to have been born not just with a permanent scowl etched into his handsome gray face, but with the attitude to match. Unlike his famous internet predecessor, our boy has earned every bit of his curmudgeonly reputation.
The Cat We Didn’t Choose (But Who Chose Us Anyway)
Shadoe wasn’t exactly a planned addition to our family. He came to us as a tiny kitten when someone who’d been living with us decided to move on, leaving behind this little gray bundle of opinions. We’re talking very little—small enough that we weren’t entirely sure what we’d gotten ourselves into, but old enough that he’d already figured out exactly how he felt about most things. Spoiler alert: he had strong feelings about everything.
Now, at nearly 12 years old this November, Shadoe has grown into his grumpiness like a fine wine ages in the cellar. He’s part Maine Coon, which explains his substantial size and the fact that despite losing all his teeth, he’s perfectly capable of swallowing kibble whole like some sort of dignified, furry vacuum cleaner. The short hair threw us off the Maine Coon trail initially, but the attitude? Pure Maine Coon royalty.
From Captain Thunderpaws to OMG-Can-You-Please-Clean-Yourself-Quieter
If you’ve ever lived with a cat, you know they’re supposed to be stealthy. Silent hunters, graceful shadows, masters of appearing and disappearing without a sound. Someone forgot to give Shadoe this memo.
From his kitten days when we nicknamed him Captain Thunderpaws, to his current status as the loudest self-grooming cat in possibly all of Arizona, stealth has never been Shadoe’s strong suit. We’re talking about a cat who somehow makes walking across carpet sound like a small elephant practicing tap dance. And the grooming? You can hear him from another room, going about his daily ablutions with all the subtlety of a washing machine on the fritz.
We joke that he’s about as stealthy as those viral videos of jars full of bouncy balls being opened—lots of noise, chaos, and you know exactly where he is at all times.
The Great Outdoor Adventure (That Almost Wasn’t)
For years, Shadoe was perfectly content being an indoor cat. He’d look out the windows with mild interest, but the idea of actually setting paw outside? Not happening. He was Arizona born and raised, but apparently, the great outdoors held no appeal for our discriminating feline.
Then we moved to Tucson, and something changed. Maybe it was the new environment, maybe it was a midlife crisis, but suddenly Shadoe discovered he had opinions about the outdoors too. Strong ones. He wanted to feel “freedom in his hair” (what little of it he has), which meant I got to experience the joy of chasing a determined, not-particularly-fast cat around the yard while he explored his newfound independence.
When we moved to Workshop Central and welcomed Smudge into our pack, Shadoe finally got his ticket to true freedom: the doggy door. Now he comes and goes as he pleases, though “going” rarely means farther than the porch. He’s not antisocial exactly, but he’s discovered that peace and quiet for contemplating shadows and freaking out humans is his preferred lifestyle.
The Seasonal Gentleman
These days, Shadoe has settled into the routine of a distinguished older gentleman. Summers in Arizona mean he spends most of his time inside, enjoying the climate-controlled comfort like the sensible senior citizen he’s become. When winter rolls around, he ventures out a bit more, but he’s always back inside by nighttime. Even grumpy old cats appreciate a good night’s sleep in comfort.
He’s claimed his spots throughout our home and workshop—always positioned for optimal shadow-staring and human-startling. There’s something deeply unsettling about catching those bright eyes watching you from a dark corner, and Shadoe has perfected the art of appearing just when you least expect it.
All Cat, All the Time
While Shadoe shares our space with Fuega and Smudge, he maintains his independence with the dignity of a cat who knows exactly who he is and what he’s about. He’s not unfriendly, but he’s selective about his social interactions. Think of him as the workshop supervisor who prefers to manage from a distance—always watching, always aware, but content to let others handle the day-to-day chaos while he focuses on the important work of shadow supervision.
He may have lost his teeth, but he’s never lost his personality. He may sound like a small storm system when he walks across the floor, but he’s our small storm system. And despite his permanent expression of mild disapproval with the world, we wouldn’t trade our grumpy old man for anything.
The Shadoe Legacy
The truth is, while we didn’t choose Shadoe, he’s chosen to stay with us through nearly 12 years of life changes, moves, new pets, and all the beautiful chaos that comes with sharing your life with a cat who has opinions about everything. He’ll be here, ruling from his shadowy kingdom, until he decides it’s time to stomp into whatever comes next and claim his throne there too.
Until then, we’re honored to serve as staff to His Majesty King Shadoe, First of His Name, Sovereign of Shadows, and Chief Supervisor of All Things That Go Bump in the Night.
As always, we’re here if you have questions or just want to chat about wood, dogs, cats, or the beautiful chaos that happens when all three worlds collide in our workshop! Whether you found us through the woodworking or stayed for the pet tales, we’re grateful you’re part of the Sarkanys Rising family.