Nahla — The Heart Behind Kindred Spirits
Nahla was one of those dogs who quietly became part of who we were, until it became impossible to imagine life without her. She had a way of knowing when you needed comfort, when you needed to laugh, and when you just needed to sit in silence together. The kind of presence that leaves an imprint on your soul, long before you ever realize it.
Nahla was our German Shepherd — strong, intuitive, and full of personality. She was bossy in the way only she could be, standing by the fridge to let you know that she wanted to eat and staring through the back door until we let her inside (so she could lay on the couch) — where, as far as she was concerned, she belonged.
She always wanted to be near us. Not just close… but in the same room, the same space, part of whatever we were doing. She was playful and endlessly driven when it came to her toys. She'd chase, catch, return them, and be ready to go all over again. She was quite the toy hoarder. One day she decided every toy she owned belonged in one enormous pile in the backyard. We always joked it was her way of making sure our other dog, Hawk, didn't dare touch them.
She adored our son, and there was a softness in her with him that felt instinctive — gentle, careful, and deeply loving. That same gentleness extended to every animal she met. I once found her sharing her bed with a baby possum, and another time trying her very best to make friends with a frog.
She was protective, always aware, always watching. She made us all feel safe. She was the kind of dog who seemed to understand more than you could ever explain.
She had her quirks — she hated flies and we would watch her get endlessly frustrated if they buzzed around her for too long. She absolutely refused to let us bathe her, but happily let the groomer do it instead. Apparently she preferred the day spa experience. Her favourite treat was a McDonald's chicken nugget—or "chimkin", as we imagined she'd call it if she could talk. She got some every birthday.
If we ever went somewhere without her, even for a short time, she would stay with my parents where she was just as spoilt as at home (possibly even more treats and/or cheese). When we came back, she'd let us know she wasn't impressed. She'd turn away in the car, refusing to even look at us — or perhaps just giving us some spectacular side-eye. Thankfully, a few cuddles usually earned us her forgiveness.
Nahla wasn’t just part of our life — she was part of who we are.
When she passed, what remained wasn't just grief.
It was the quiet echo of every routine we'd shared.
Every space she'd filled with love.
Every small habit that had made ordinary days feel extraordinary.
And yet, even in that absence, there was still a sense of her. In quiet moments I'd catch myself feeling as though she was still close somehow. That's when I realised something grief had been trying to teach me all along: our connection hadn't disappeared. It had simply changed.
Nahla taught me that grief is not the opposite of love.
It is proof of it.
The Kindred Spirits story isn't just about Nahla.
It's about every dog who has ever changed us.
Every soul who became family.
Every bond that continues long after goodbye.
Because some souls meet and simply know—they belong to each other.
Explore the Kindred Spirits deck here
