A Love Letter to Riley and the Meaning of Life

I’ve been particularly quiet this Summer on the work front – focusing on my clients, and very consciously pushing most of the rest to the side…

One of the topics I talk about in leadership is the idea that being intentional about the actions that are most important to you (not someone else – YOU). This sort of intentionality is critical to real success. 

In the case of this Summer – and perhaps this entire year – my actions and the way I’ve prioritized them have had everything to do with caring for and ensuring the wellness, safety, and happiness of my little girl, my labrador Riley.

For 15 years, 7 months and 3 days, I was mom to the most beautiful, joyful, loving, resilient, peaceful, spirited soul – Riley McGee.  From moment 1 until her last moment on August 9^th, 2025, she lived every one of them present, and to it’s fullest.  And while I didn’t realize it until last week - she taught us the meaning of life. 

And as I write this note, she is missed immensely – not only by Michael and me, but by so many she touched far and wide. As my friend @Mike Pamphilon so kindly shared, she touched him all the way in Australia as he followed her adventures on social media. Whether it was live or through her photos and video, she brought joy with her sparkling hazel eyes and white eyelashes, her soft puppy ears, and her beaming smile.

I won’t spend time on the decision that rocked our world last week.  We had been through rebound after rebound this year, and despite her desire to keep going and her healthy blood and perfect colored tongue (iykyk), there were parts of her body that were no longer serving her.  She deserved to move on with dignity, and as painful as it was – we had to make sure she would never have to experience a painful departure from this world.

Over the last several months, and perhaps the last couple of years during Riley’s senior days, never really knowing when we would have to say goodbye, I often reflected on what it was like to be her mom. How lucky I was.  I never had human children, but for us, the reality was she was cared for as a child.

We brought Riley home at 7 weeks.  Minutes in, she threw up on me in the car ride home and I fell in love. It was at that moment when the idea of shedding fur all over everything no longer mattered to me.

With intention, we nurtured her, taught her, nourished her, made decisions about playgroups, made meticulous notes with instructions for who she stayed with when we left the country on vacation. We made careful choices about where we would stay if we took a road trip, and we committed to eating outdoors even in the Winter so that she could participate. We made sure she had as many opportunities as possible to swim or play on her favorite beach in Carmel, and in later years, we invested in floaty vests and cooling vests and shady spots and familiar spaces.

We celebrated her and created birthday rituals.  We sang her songs at breakfast and dinner.  Spoiled her with toys and beds and healthy treats. We made sure she was clean – even when it meant an outdoor bath in the dark because of an accident late at night.  We made sure she was comfortable, and after a scare with vestibular syndrome in 2023, we took her to acupuncture every other week.

We made sure she had the best of care – from the food she ate, to her exercise, to her community of friends, the veterinarians we trusted, and the shoes she wore every day when her hind legs started to fail. 

Ultimately, she became Michael’s CrossFit workout carrying her 72lbs up and down the many stairs in our house and into the car day after day.  We navigated senior medication for a long-term UTI, incontinence, wee-wee pads, poop, constipation, and arthritis, while also being mindful of negative side effects and alternative treatments where necessary and feasible.  I even looked up bionic legs at one point.  If only.

There really is no easy way to express the level of care we gave to Riley – especially as we made her to most dominant priority over the last year.  We cancelled vacations.  We stayed up in the middle of the night as her sundowners escalated.  We took turns working out or leaving the house. And we were tired – as newborn parents get usually at a much younger age than our 55 and 56.

But you see – Riley deserved it all.  Whatever it took. She gave her life every day toward showing us the true meaning of what’s important.  She protected us – whether she was laying on our bed facing the door as a younger dog or barking at the Amazon lady on her last day. She gave us unconditional love through the passing of both our dads, through COVID, through my cancer journey, through so many challenging life transitions.  We were her pack.  She was ours’.

She taught us to be playful and not sweat the small stuff.  She taught us to be present in each moment, and to find beauty in everything.  She embodied JOY – LOVE – PEACE – RESILIENCE, and her spirit was always illuminated by that sparkle in her eyes.  And that never ceased.

Riley McGee Hubbard was a superstar, and supermodel, and a superhero.  She made an impact – something I have noticed that most of us are seeking to make, no matter what we do for a living.

So, I plan to find my way forward with the leadership lessons I learned from my beautiful Riley.  The lessons that made me a successful mom and human.

Live every day with JOY – LOVE – PEACE – and a DETERMINED SPIRIT for what’s truly important to you.

She was the greatest gift a mom could ever have.  She taught us the true meaning of a successful life.  I love you forever, Riley McGee.