A Future Rooted in Pawprints and Prayer

What am I most excited about for the future?

To be honest, it’s not flying cars or digital utopias. It’s something quieter, softer. Something I’ve come to understand through muddy paws, crate rides across continents, and a deepening reverence for the Earth beneath my feet.

I’m excited about a future where we remember. Where we return to the things that matter—not because we scrolled into awareness, but because we listened. To the animals. To the soil. To the thrum of our own heartbeat when we finally put our phones down.

A big part of this remembering came through a dog.

When Sauli entered my life—a rescue pup with more energy than discipline—I thought I was saving her. But the truth is, she saved me. With every chewed-up corner of my home, every escape attempt, every impossible antic, she reminded me that love is messy, wild, and often inconvenient. And worth every moment.

It’s hard to write about her without smiling. Because Sauli is not just a dog. She’s a metaphor, a muse, a four-legged embodiment of second chances. Her stories—some hilarious, some humbling—became a way for me to process this unpredictable world. To offer joy. To reconnect with something primal and playful. That’s how The Adventures of Sauli the Rescue Pup began. And with each book, I’m reminded: even chaos has a heart.

But my excitement for the future doesn’t end with Sauli.

It expands, like song, into the landscape of the Earth itself. There’s something ancient in the way wind moves through trees or the way children dance barefoot in the dirt. That’s the spirit behind A Song and Dance for Mother Earth. It’s a call to reawaken our relationship with the natural world—not through fear or guilt, but through love. Through celebration. Through the understanding that this planet doesn’t need saving as much as it needs partnership.

The future I see isn’t sterile or sleek. It’s not something to “optimize.” It’s something to co-create.

It’s barefoot walks and messy living rooms. It’s laughter. Barking. Drumming. A child pressing their ear to the ground just to hear what the Earth has to say.

And if I can contribute to that future, even in a small way—by telling stories that soften hearts or spark giggles—then I’ll consider my path well-lit.

Because maybe that’s what I’m really excited about:
A future that feels like home.
One pawprint, one page, one prayer at a time.