Sirius Lee Business

Seriously Sirius: A Tribute to My Once-in-a-Lifetime Dog

Some dogs are pets. Some are companions.

And then, once in a great while, a dog comes along who becomes everything.

Sirius was that dog.

A black Dutch Shepherd with a heart as wild and loyal as the woods we wandered, Sirius wasn’t just a dog — he was my shadow, my protector, my ride or die, my best friend. He passed away this past February at 14 years old, after a lifetime of adventures, accomplishments, and love that I could never fully put into words. But I want to try — because he deserves that and more.

I actually knew his name long before I ever met him. When my very first dog died, my dad told me that dog heaven was in the stars — and that the brightest star in the night sky was called Sirius, the Dog Star. Right then and there, I knew: That’s what I’ll name my dream dog someday.

Growing up, we had Labs. But I remember seeing a French Ring trial on TV when I was just a kid — and learning that there were dogs out there trained to protect their people with real courage and control. I was instantly hooked. I thought, You can actually train a dog to bite bad guys?! But my mom, understandably, didn’t want me training any dog to bite my siblings (which, honestly, I might’ve tried), so she told me, “When you grow up, you can get one of those dogs.” And that’s exactly what I did.

When Sirius came into my life, it was like something I had been waiting for since childhood finally clicked into place. He was the dog I had dreamed of — smart, brave, and fiercely bonded. From the moment we met, we were inseparable.

We trained and competed together, earning trophy after trophy in personal protection work. Sirius even earned his French Ring Brevet — an impressive title that only scratched the surface of who he was. We also did search and rescue, and worked with emotionally disabled teens. He had a sixth sense for knowing who needed comfort, protection, or just a quiet, steady presence.

But more than the ribbons or titles or the respect he commanded, Sirius was my constant companion. We hiked trails, swam in lakes, and kayaked down winding rivers. He rode on boats, camped under stars, and kept me safe in the deepest, wildest corners. From quiet ponds to rushing rivers — even the ocean — Sirius was always there, tail wagging, ready for the next adventure. He was the kind of dog you could count on — not just to listen, or to work, but to be there. Always.

He went on solo vacations with me. He laid at my feet when I wrote. He trotted beside me in silence when I needed time to think. He made me braver, kinder, more grounded. And every moment — big or small — was better with him by my side.

Now that he's gone, there's a space beside me that feels impossibly empty. I miss him deeply, fiercely, constantly. But I also feel him everywhere — in the wind through the trees, in the rhythm of the trail, in the quiet moments when the world slows down and I remember who he was, and what he gave me.

To honor Sirius, I made him the star of my new book series, Rooted Out Yonder. Told through the eyes of a dog named Sirius Lee, it's a collection of children’s rhymes that celebrate the natural world — its wonder, its wildness, its wisdom. It’s my way of keeping his spirit alive — not just for myself, but for every child who finds comfort in nature, or courage in a loyal friend. The real Sirius helped me find both.

He was, simply, the best dog I’ve ever known.

And I’ll carry him with me — always.

Back to my roots

Finding My Way Back to My Roots

First blog post by Janae Lynn

Howdy, I’m Janae Lynn — barefoot walker, sky watcher, creek sitter, and lifelong lover of the wild.

I was raised out in the country with grass under my feet, a dog by my side, a fishing pole in my hand, and a deep love for the natural world that’s stayed with me ever since. There’s something about standing barefoot in the grass — about simply being in nature — that makes me feel like myself. Like I belong.

My parents helped shape that love from the very beginning. I spent much of my childhood outdoors — camping, canoeing, rock hunting, foraging, hiking (I like to call it wandering), visiting beaches, and just exploring. My dad especially was someone I was always right beside, learning by doing. He took me fishing my whole life, and we spent countless hours wandering together. He taught me to slow down and notice the little things — a ripple in the water, a bird’s call, the way light filters through the trees. That kind of quiet, grounded presence stayed with me, even when I didn’t realize it.

When I turned 18, I moved away from my hometown and into the city. Suddenly, I wasn’t outside much. I wore shoes. I walked on sidewalks instead of grass. And I didn’t even realize how much I missed nature — not right away. But something inside me felt… off. It took a while to understand why.

It wasn’t until I started carving out small moments again — walking my dogs by the river, watching a bird, going fishing, taking my shoes off in the grass — that it finally clicked:

I had grown up rooted out yonder, and I needed that part of me back.

Fast forward many years, and I’ve come full circle. I moved back to the very same property I grew up on. I bought it from my parents, and now I’m raising my own child here. There’s something magical about watching him explore the same woods I once did — spotting the same wildflowers, eating from the same berry bushes, casting a line in the same creek where I fished with my dad. I see his connection to nature forming, and it reminds me why I wanted to write Rooted Out Yonder in the first place.

I’ve always loved writing. I carried it quietly, like a seed in my pocket — the dream that one day I’d be an author. During the first COVID shutdown, when the world felt upside-down and the news was too much, I finally started writing the poem I had dreamt up as a child. I sat outside with a notebook, let the wind clear my head, and wrote the first version of Rooted Out Yonder.

Five years later, that one poem has grown into a whole children’s book series. It’s my way of sharing the wonder of the natural world — the wandering, the calm of the woods, the stars overhead — with any kid (or grown-up) who might need a little grounding. A little wild wonder.

The series is also, in many ways, a quiet tribute to three of my best friends: my mom and dad, who taught me to love the wild in the first place, and my Dutch Shepherd, Sirius Lee, who wandered beside me through so many of life’s most meaningful moments. All three have passed on now — but they live in these woods, these words, and this journey. They’re in every dandelion puff, every tree-hugging stanza, every starry sky I write about.

And here’s something you might not know: every single character in Rooted Out Yonder is inspired by someone real. I used the real quirks, habits, and hearts of some of my very favorite people to shape the voices in the book. It’s full of some of the ones I love most — their curiosity, their kindness, their quiet strength, their wild streaks. So when you read it, you’re stepping into something real, something lived.

I truly believe we’re all connected — people, trees, animals, even the stars. I’m looking up at the same moon a wolf howls at, and something about that has always brought me peace.

This blog is a place where I’ll share thoughts from the woods, stories from my life, sneak peeks into my writing, and gentle reminders that nature is always waiting — whispering, grounding, rooting us back to ourselves.

Thanks for being here. Let’s go barefoot and wander awhile.

— Janae Lynn ⭐️