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.
