Bear’s Journey: A Rural Reset in Motion
Paws, reset, recharge
Bear’s journey fuels a kinder, bolder approach to life and marketing.
If you’ve been following Grain of Salt for a while, you know it’s my bi-weekly excuse to sprinkle some marketing wisdom with a dash of real-life reflection—proof that even the saltiest strategies need a moment to pause and breathe.
Today, I’m pulling back the curtain on something deeply personal: the story of Bear, my 120-pound gentle giant, who was abandoned at our ranch as a 9-month-old pup a year ago in May, and how his recent unexpected leg surgery has sparked a rural reset that’s reshaping my world—and Suzi Worley Studios. It’s a tale of unplugging, recharging, and manifesting kindness in the quiet corners of ranch life. Grab your coffee (or tea), and I’ll fill you in on our sweet Bear.
It was the tail end of Labor Day weekend, following a summer shadowed by eminent domain threats from a neighboring city itching to dam our creek for a recreational lake under the guise of future municipal water needs—a battle we’re still fighting with flyers and community grit. Inside, my furry COO, Piper, and I were prepping for ranch chores when Bear, my loyal shadow and pup-whisperer to Jack, and our two scrappy February rescues (red and black pups, who arrived just before a brutal cold snap), was his usual joyful self—bounding around, the heart of our pack. Then, a sound pierced the silence: a sharp cry from outside, stopping me cold. Piper and I rushed out to find Bear frantically hopping toward us on three legs, the pups still playfully running alongside him unaware of his pain.
The Cost of Care: A Hard Reboot
It was after 5 pm on a holiday, and our local vet suggested waiting until morning, suspecting a torn ligament. But radiographs revealed a different story: his upper hind leg had spiraled into a spectacular fracture. His size and the injury’s complexity overwhelmed our local team, and the first specialist we were sent to also hit a roadblock. Their referral in Dallas could do it, however my emergency budget was nowhere near the $8,000–$10,000 estimate, I felt lost and completely gutted. Every alternative search came up with a dead end, no one could do the surgery, all saying Dallas offered the best hope for our sweet Bear.
After multiple prayers for a strength and guidance, I called back the Dallas team, who squeezed us into their Plano branch—a grueling 2-hour haul each way. A third set of X-rays refined the plan, dropping the surgery cost to $4,910–$6,959. Still staggering, but more reachable, with 12-week bandage/pin adjustments ($110–$315 each), potential radiographs ($360), and follow-ups likely adding back any savings to the total.
Two lifelines emerged: Care Credit, splitting the burden into interest-free payments, and a lesson that pet insurance—something I’m securing for the whole muttley crew now—would’ve eased the sting had it been in place.
The Plano team was incredible, and Bear’s now on strict bedrest with weekly check-ins for 12 weeks. My days are now a delicate dance: meds roughly every 8 hours (7 AM, 2 PM, 10 PM), outdoor potty breaks on Bear’s schedule, and early morning Plano drives once a week. As of now, we’ve raised $566 ($316 via GoFundMe, $250 via the tax-deductible Waggle)—every dollar a lifeline toward his $8,000 goal, yet a humbling nod to our vulnerability.
Bear’s Influence: A Rural Reset
Bear’s injury struck like a thunderclap, rattling my work-life balance. Crafting strategies, auditing campaigns, client support, event planning, and dreaming up content now intertwine with his care, pushing me to re-question everything. How do we sustain the hustle without losing our spark? How do we shield the re-charge time that ground us? That’s where my pivot—and this rural reset—takes hold.
Amid the chaos, I’ve found recharge in the simplest acts: no-phone sunrises with coffee on the porch, quiet walks where the horses nuzzle my hand for treats, or sitting with Bear, his big head resting in my lap. These aren’t escapes; they’re manifestations of kindness, reclaiming sanity from screen overload, and honoring the serenity of our ranch—threatened by sprawl and that (literal) dam fight.
Reshaping Suzi Worley Studios
This journey isn’t just mine—it’s redefining Suzi Worley Studios. I’m evolving the Marketing Repair Kit into marketing audits with tailored tools to spot gaps in your strategy and offer fixes that fit your life.
Whether you’re a solopreneur buried in emails or a team leader eyeing growth, these audits include with rose gold or sage green SWAG to ignite your own reset, from a notebook with pen for notes, a 2026 calendar with stickers for planning, to a travel mug plus a bandana for yourself or your pet (Bear’s nod to recharge) for top tiers.
It’s marketing with heart, blending practical wins with rural recharge inspiration for those who need it. Audits serve anyone seeking help, while the potential of rural retreats—coming in 2026—invite those craving a deeper unplug, with some bridging both worlds over time.
Bear’s road to recovery stretches ahead, but every share, donation, or kind word fuels his healing and our collective recharge. If you feel the pull to unplug, manifest kindness, or need a marketing lift, join me here on Grain of Salt. What’s one way you’re recharging this week? Drop it in the comments—I’d love to hear from you.
With gratitude (and a little salt),
Suzi