Auggie’s Legacy, Gracie’s Future. Please Help Today.

In 2019, a very sick little girl held two papers in her hands, each one a profile for a potential service dog. She studied them quietly, then lifted one into the air and said, “That’s my Auggie.”

It wasn’t a decision. It was a declaration. Like she was sharing something she had always known. Letting us in on a secret. Auggie was hers.

With those words, Gracie became a mama. Not in the way people usually think of it, but in the way that anchors you to this world. The way one look makes your heart start beating for someone else. She was suddenly tethered to life by another heart, moving in rhythm with her own. That beat became her strength. Steady. Selfless. Unceasing. Whatever she had to face, whatever she had to survive, she would do it for her girl.

Auggie was purpose wrapped in fur, with puppy dog eyes and a Stitch collar. A born nurturer, with watchful eyes and a deep need to be by someone’s side. She was trained for tasks, but she never worked a day in her life. She was a baby. A best friend. A protector. Loyalty and confidence in motion.

Gracie was right. Auggie was her girl. She knew Gracie’s every breath, and Gracie knew hers. She read Auggie’s signals like words and listened with the same urgency, whether Auggie was giving direction or just asking for a carrot.

Side by side, they did everything. Classroom lectures. Hospital stays. Dances and long walks by the ocean. They were never apart. Each gave the other what she needed most. And in that safety, they built a life no one thought possible for a sick little girl and a working dog. Proof again and again of how far love can carry you when it’s that fierce and strong.

The goodbye came hard and fast. No warning. No time to prepare. One day they were side by side. The next, Gracie was holding on to a heartbeat that wouldn’t last.

Auggie was only six. Too young for endings. Too loved for words.

There was no fixing it. No understanding it. So they didn’t try. They just stayed close and loved each other. Fiercely. Fully. All the way to the end.

Gracie gave Auggie the kind of goodbye every dog deserves. Chicken. Whipped cream. Her stuffies and Stitch on the screen. A slow drive with the windows down. Her very own graduation. And all the carrots her paws could carry.

Because when you love someone more than yourself, you don’t hold them back. You walk them home.

And then somehow, you begin again.

Not because you’re ready. Not because it hurts less. But because love like that doesn’t end. It roots. And from that place, something new can grow.

Now Gracie is back where it all began. Same place. Same hope. Hands open. Heart cracked. Still holding on to the rhythm she once shared, waiting for the next heartbeat that might fall in step with it. Carrying Auggie’s memory and her girl forward.

And I, as her mama, am asking you to help her find it. Because pride has nothing on a mother’s love. And a story like theirs deserves to continue. Every gift brings Gracie one step closer to her next partner. One step closer to safety. To independence. To joy. If you can give, please do. Help us find the heartbeat that will carry her forward.