Oreo was a gentle giant. She miraculously maintained her muscular physique by sleeping many hours throughout the day. No matter how familiar she was with a space, she constantly bumped her head. She was simply a very large dog, and that clumsiness was one of the traits that made her so endearing.
She won countless hearts with her large amber eyes, black-and-white face, and soft kisses. Oreo had a lot of fans - and I believe she knew more people than we did. People would shout out her name as they drove past our house. Even folks unfamiliar to Dan and me somehow knew Oreo. I lost count of the number of times I heard, “I didn’t recognize you at first without your dog!” when I took solo walks around the neighborhood.
Oreo loved to lie in the sun, roll in the dirt, chase squirrels, and snack on vegetables. Most nights, she needed to be covered - otherwise she’d get hiccups. She snored every night and dreamed a lot, too.
She would lie beside me when I wasn’t feeling well, offering her steady, grounding presence. At other times, she challenged me with her defiance. Once, she snuck an entire package of sausages out of our ice chest and devoured them before we discovered the empty wrapping in the backyard. When reprimanded, she simply shrugged, belched, and promptly passed out on my lap. The older she got, the more unapologetic she became. That was just the way it was: Oreo wanted what she wanted, when she wanted it.
She let me shower her with affection - what I called “love bombs.” I would smother her face with kisses and drape myself over her in a full-body hug, and she accepted it all with patience. I often rested my head against the side of her ribcage, listening to the sound of her breathing - steady and luminous in my ears.
Oreo felt like a kindred spirit, and I know many people experienced that same feeling with her. One of her greatest gifts was her ability to make people feel seen and heard.
Once, during a beach walk, she charged directly toward a woman taking a solo stroll. I worried that Oreo’s size - barreling forward with full enthusiasm - might scare her. Instead, it felt as though they were meant to meet. Later, as we crossed paths again while leaving the beach, the woman said, referring to Oreo, “Her greeting and kisses were exactly what I needed. My father is in hospice, and I came out here to get some air.”
Another time, Oreo placed one of her massive paws gently on Dan’s uncle’s leg and gazed deeply into his eyes. They sat that way for quite some time. It was as if she was saying, I understand. Everyone in the room noticed. We all watched in awe. The energy was palpable.
Oreo was special, and I felt honored to be one of her caretakers. I often thanked her for choosing us to be her family. The moment after Oreo passed, I rested my head on her chest and listened. I heard nothing. That quietness was the confirmation I needed.
Returning home without her was strange - the house felt empty without her presence. On the second night, I felt her bump the bed, a familiar gesture she used in the middle of the night when she got cold. On the third night, I awoke to a bright circle of light. Its origin made no sense, and so I knew it was her. The energy was comforting.
When we donated some of Oreo’s items to the Santa Barbara Humane Society, we met Poppy.
“We’ll be safe,” I said to my husband. “They don’t show dogs in the lobby.” As we waited for the associates to collect the items, Poppy walked in - then called Lucy - with a couple. She made a beeline for me and melted into my arms. I assumed she sensed my sadness about Oreo. Then she greeted Dan, and then someone else, as if it were important for her to check on everyone.
That’s when the couple said, “We’re bringing her back. We’ve had her for five weeks.” My mouth nearly fell to the floor.
I asked why.
“She’s too energetic and doesn’t respect personal boundaries.”
The energy - I knew - could be worked with. And a dog lacking personal boundaries? That was music to my ears. Their reasons for surrendering Poppy became my mission statement. The message was clear: we were meant to take her home.
“It’s too soon,” I thought. But it wasn’t. It was divine timing. I believe Oreo guided us to Poppy.
When I channeled with Oreo the week we brought Poppy home, she said, “You have a love - an energy - that needs to live on in you. The way you love is amazing, and this little dog needs to experience that love too, the way I did.”
Oreo may no longer walk beside me, but her love still does. Her spirit didn’t end; it expanded guiding love forward, into me, and into Poppy, where it continues to grow. Love never leaves; it simply changes form.
Tania Isaac is an Intuitive Guide and Integrative Energy Healer dedicated to helping individuals align with their inner wisdom and embrace their highest healing potential. Through transformative sessions, she empowers others to navigate life with clarity, balance, and purpose.
Tania believes that each person holds the innate ability to heal when supported by nourishing practices that tend to the body, mind, and soul. Her unique sessions blend spiritual guidance, Integrative Energy Healing, and embodied yoga to create a deeply personalized healing experience.
Based in Santa Barbara, CA, Tania lives with her husband and their beloved rescue dog, Oreo. Her mission is to support empaths and seekers in reconnecting with their metaphysical gifts and inner strength.
To learn more about her offerings, visit: www.taniaisaac.com