Cheryl Jones Realtor LoKation Real Estate

03/31/2026

02/07/2026

Garden of the Gods, Colorado

01/27/2026

01/27/2026

Beautiful

01/27/2026

Experience the authentic dude ranch in Wickenburg, Arizona, a desert resort with many luxurious amenities & western activities at Rancho de los Caballeros.

01/27/2026

01/27/2026

We adopted Barnaby to die.
I know that sounds harsh, but it’s the truth.
He was 15 years old.
A senior Husky with cloudy eyes and a slow step.
The shelter paperwork said “Hospice Foster.”
His family surrendered him because he “slept too much” and had trouble walking.
So we prepared for goodbye.
Orthopedic beds in every room.
Ramps instead of stairs.
Quiet nights. Soft mornings.
We thought we were giving him a peaceful place to spend his last few weeks.
Barnaby had other plans.
Week 1: He slept.
The kind of sleep that only comes when you finally feel safe.
Week 2: He realized he wasn’t going back.
This wasn’t temporary.
This was home.
Week 3: He found the stuffed toy.
Not a brand-new toy.
Not fancy.
Just a worn, soft little stuffed animal—
and he carried it everywhere.
That’s when the “dying” Husky disappeared.
The dog who “could barely walk” started trotting proudly through the house,
stuffed toy clenched in his mouth like a trophy.
The dog who “slept too much” began waking us up early,
toy in hand, ready for the day.
At night, he sat just like this—
holding it close,
like he was afraid it might disappear.
That’s when we understood.
Barnaby wasn’t dying.
He wasn’t weak because of age.
He was tired—from loneliness.
From hard floors.
From being given up.
Now he’s 15 years old.
He steals pizza off the counter.
He outruns me to the backyard.
And he still carries that same stuffed toy—
proof that joy found him again.
We failed at hospice fostering.
But we succeeded at something better.
We gave a senior Husky a reason to hold on—
and he showed us that sometimes, love doesn’t extend a life…
It brings it back.