Terlingua, Texas: Big Bend Beauty and Saying Goodbye to Our Indy Girl

After leaving the bustle of other towns, we headed down to Terlingua, Texas to winter for a bit and explore Big Bend National Park. Terlingua is one of those places that feels like the edge of the world—quiet, rugged, and surrounded by endless desert. There isn’t much to “do” there besides hike, but that’s the magic of it. The desert is stark, simple, and stunning in its own way.

On the way in and out, we passed through multiple Border Patrol checkpoints. Each stop reminded us how close we were to the border and just how much those officers deal with day in and day out. Hearing a few of their stories gave us perspective—this corner of Texas has its own rhythm, and it’s not an easy job keeping things in check.

Unfortunately, our time in Terlingua will always be remembered for something much heavier. This was our last week with our sweet Indy girl. She had started eating less back in Louisiana, and we chalked it up to being picky about food. But here, we knew something was really wrong. We drove two hours to the closest vet, only to hear the words I had dreaded for years—it was her time to cross the rainbow bridge.

Indy wasn’t just a dog. She was my soul dog, the one who had carried me through so many hard times, the love of my life in fur. I had played this moment over in my head countless times, knowing that when it came, a piece of me would never be the same. I was beyond lucky to have 13 years with her, but that didn’t make it easier. Patrick was right by her side as she took her last breath, and I’ll always be grateful he was there with her—and with me.

Patrick getting our final hugs in with Indy. I miss her every single day.

When we came home from the vet, Piper broke my heart all over again. She refused to get out of the car, curled up with Indy’s favorite blanket as if she knew her best friend wasn’t coming back. Over the next few days, Piper was completely lost—crying, sticking to us like glue, and even marking everywhere outside, almost as if to leave a trail for Indy to find us again. We didn’t expect her grief to be so deep, and it was crushing to watch.

Piper sat here for about 5 minutes before she got out of the truck.

That night, though, as we sat under the desert sky, we saw our first shooting star. Later, we realized it wasn’t just any star—it was Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky. I knew instantly it was Indy girl, letting us know she was at peace, shining down on us brighter than ever. It was the tiniest glimmer of comfort in a week that felt unbearably heavy.

We did manage to take some hikes in Big Bend, trying to find moments of normalcy in the stunning landscapes, but life felt different—quieter, emptier. Thankfully, we met some kind neighbors in the campground who distracted us with kindness and helped us carry the weight of our grief, even if just for a little while.

Patrick and I on a hike in Big Bend...the river (Rio Grande) pictured separates the US and Mexico.

Terlingua gave us solitude, beauty, and one of the hardest goodbyes of our lives. The desert will always remind me of Indy now—wild, free, and unforgettable.

P.S. I thought I could get through this post without crying and I failed at doing so.