2Dogs Woodworking exists because of a little dog who became far more than a pet.

He was my shadow, my routine, my comic relief, and, if there is such a thing, my muse. When he died in May 2026, part of me went with him. Life did not simply move on. The house changed. The quiet changed. I changed.

In many ways, this business grew out of that loss. It became a way to turn grief into something useful, honest, and handmade. Some pieces are made to make people smile. Others are made to help people remember. All of them come from the same belief: dogs give us more than we deserve, and the least we can do is honor them well.

So yes, I make dog stuff. And yes, I love dogs. But no matter how much I make for them, or how deeply I love them, it will never feel like enough.

Beneath the sawdust, the laser engraving, and the bad jokes about cats, this is really about gratitude — for the dogs who loved us, stayed with us, and left marks no piece of wood could ever fully hold.