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Scroll down to explore the many threads of my journey — Nan Notes, grief reflections, life chapters, writing moments, and the small truths I gather along the way.
Different chapters, same heart
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Memoir Moment
Quiet memories that shaped the way I love and remember
Akillees, the Dog Who Knew
A moment that reminds me how animals hold us through heartbreak.
Some moments from those early days still rise to the surface with a clarity that surprises me. They’re not loud memories, not dramatic ones, just quiet truths that shaped the way our story unfolded. Akillees was one of those truths.
He wasn’t just a family dog. He was a sentient, intuitive presence who seemed to understand more than any of us could put into words. During Katyia’s pregnancy, he never left her side. He would rest his head gently on her belly, as though he was listening, sensing, protecting. There was a knowing in him, a softness that felt deliberate, almost purposeful.
And after Lucian was born, when the nursery stood ready but heartbreakingly empty, Akillees would slip into that room and curl up on the floor. Katyia would find him there, asleep in the quiet, as if he was keeping watch over a space that held so much hope and so much ache. As if he understood that something precious had been lost, and this was the only way he knew to honour it.
In the weeks that followed, he stayed close to her. When the grief became too heavy and the tears came without warning, Akillees would sit beside her, leaning his warm body against her leg, grounding her in a way no words ever could. He didn’t try to fix anything. He didn’t move away. He simply stayed, steady, loyal, present.
Animals have a way of stepping into the places where our hearts fracture. They sense the shifts we can’t articulate. They hold space for us in ways that feel almost sacred.
Akillees did that for Katyia.
He did that for Lucian.
And he did that for all of us, without ever needing to be asked.
Some memories stay because they remind us of the quiet guardians who walked with us through the darkest chapters. Akillees was one of ours.
Love, Nannie Angie xx
Behind the books
Quiet glimpses into the moments and companions behind my writing life.
Writing with Millie & Dutchess
A quiet reflection on the dogs who stayed with me through every chapter
When people ask me about my writing process, they often expect me to talk about notebooks, routines, or the way I plan my chapters. But the truth is, my writing process has always been shaped by two little souls who sat beside me through every word, Millie and Dutchess.
For years, they were part of my writing rhythm. I had photos of them pinned around my desk, reminders of their personalities and the joy they brought into our home. Under the desk, they would curl up together, warm and close, as if they knew their presence made everything feel calmer.
Sometimes, when I was deep in a difficult chapter, I would feel a soft nose rest on my lap. Millie’s gentle reassurance. Dutchess’s quiet loyalty. They didn’t understand the words I was writing, but they understood me. They sensed when I needed grounding, when I needed comfort, when I needed a moment to breathe.
I began writing my memoir when they were both still here. They witnessed the early drafts, the emotional chapters, the moments when I had to stop and gather myself. They were there for all of it, the tears, the laughter, the long pauses, the cups of tea gone cold beside me.
Now, both of them have passed, and writing feels different. Quieter. But their presence hasn’t left. Their photos are still by my desk. Their memory still sits at my feet, and in a way, they continue to guide me through the memoir, through the children’s adventure stories, through every new idea that finds its way onto the page.
Animals have a way of walking with us through the chapters of our lives.
Millie and Dutchess walked with me through mine.
I miss them everyday.
Love,
Angie xx
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