Hester Regoort

Oxmo is terrified of lightning. We've had thunderstorms for three nights now. He spends the night pacing, breathing in my face and demanding reassurance. Needless to say, he was not my favourite pup by 3am. His siblings sleep through the whole thing. They trust the universe. Oxmo, apparently, has decided that thunderstorms are a personal crisis and I am his designated emergency response team. Come morning, he's a happy chappy. Running around. Chasing swallows. Dreaming in the grass. Me? Not...

I arrive to see them. After five months. Five months of wanting sooner. Trying sooner.Negotiating sooner. But I wasn’t allowed. So I built something instead. Quiet certainty. A private storyline with excellent confidence and absolutely no live feedback. That when I walked back in… it would be ecstatic. Obviously. Because that’s what reunion is. Because that’s what we are . Or so I had decided. My boys. In my heart, at least. Slow mornings. Late evenings in the garden.The life I had already...

In memory of one big-hearted, snack-driven, dirt-digging, terrace-sitting gentleman… Bazinga. 🐾 Bazinga You were never just a dog not really— you were a presence, a soft, stubborn heartbeat wrapped in fur and quiet determination. A husky with a mission: mole patrol. Nose to earth, digging like the world depended on it, as if somewhere beneath the soil was a secret only you could uncover. Always hungry— oh, gloriously so— five pig ears a day, in your dreams, one in reality, and still you...