Going From Three Bowls Down to Two: Our Four-Day Farewell to Zeus 💚

Our best boy crossed the rainbow bridge five days ago. Letting him go was one of the hardest things we have ever done, and our family has shed thousands of tears for him. Zeus was not just our pet—he was the literal face and the heart of our business. He was the entire reason The Best Dog Balm was born. It feels so bittersweet that our business is finally starting to flourish, just as we lose the very reason for its existence.

On the day of his passing, my husband was searching for a way to help us process the grief when he came across a tradition of the Ojibwe called The Four-Day Journey. He was standing at the counter making food for our other two dogs, and out of habit, he automatically set out our boy’s bowl and proceeded to put food in it, too. Looking at that third bowl broke my heart, but then he explained to me what he learned about The Four-Day Journey, and tearfully, I was all in. I was so incredibly grateful that my husband’s discovery gave us something tangible to hold onto—a purposeful framework to help soften the sharp, piercing pain of his passing.

Dogs do not traditionally receive this ritual in the Ojibwe culture, but we gave our boy our own special version to honor his life and help our family transition to a world without him.

Our boy is buried on our farm so we can visit his grave whenever we need to feel close to him. On the first night, and for the three mornings that followed, we took food and water out to his gravesite. We stood there together in the quiet, talked to him, and cried in each other’s arms. We were fully present, letting ourselves feel the pain of losing him, and we stayed by his grave until the tears stopped flowing.

Inside our home, we placed an LED candle in the window he used to love to stare out of, and kept it continuously lit for the first four days and nights. The light from that little candle gave me an unexpected amount of peace during those first dark nights. It felt like a glowing beacon from my heart directly to my boy, ensuring he could still see us in the darkness as he transitioned to the spirit world. I was surprised at just how much comfort that small light provided. It genuinely felt like that light kept him safe, letting him know home was right there for him if he ever felt scared.

When the evening of the fourth day arrived, we walked out to his grave, gathered the final bowls of food and water, and talked to him some more. We told him what a good boy he was, that he was free to move on now, and that we would see him again someday. We brought the food up to the house, where we had a bonfire waiting. His food was offered up to the flames as our final gift to him for his long walk to the Land of Everlasting Happiness.

We sat by the bonfire that night until all the flames died down, talking about our boy. It was peaceful, beautiful, and it gave us a sense of closure on one of the saddest experiences of our lives.

Even though this four-day ritual is not traditionally given to dogs, giving it to our boy allowed us to extend our goodbye and gave us a beautiful container of time to hold our immense grief. It made the painful process of going from three dog bowls down to two a little easier to bear. It made us feel like our deep love for him was not immediately cut off by his passing. It also forced us to look at his absence and fully process our loss each day. We let ourselves cry as much as we needed to for those four days. It was incredibly hard, but it was so healing, too.

It is now the fifth day since we lost our best boy. While we still miss him terribly, the pain feels a little less acute, and the love is what remains. The period of heavy, sharp mourning is over. Now, we are shifting our intentions to smiling whenever we think of him, and remembering all the joy, love, and fun we shared together during his life.

When I think of him now, I imagine him watching over us while we live out our lives here on earth, and I know he’s on the other side, waiting to walk us home. 💚