Our Pippi Love is Gone

Our Pippi love is gone. 💔

It’s been 3 weeks since I flew to New York to promote my debut picture book, Yumi and Monster. What should’ve been one of the best weeks of my life turned into one of the worst, realizing a top fear: my Pippi girl dying and without me being there to comfort her.

After a red-eye flight, we arrived in NY on Sunday morning and immediately were immersed in Pippi concern. 50 hours after leaving Pippi (in LA), we had to make the heart-wrenching decision to put my love to sleep over the phone. Our time in NY consisted of rolling around the city or hiding in a hotel bed crying if I wasn’t in front of an audience.

We adopted Pippi from a shelter on a beautiful Sunday spring afternoon, April 18, in San Francisco in 2010. She took her last breath on Monday, September 15, at 10:32 a.m. She was 17.5 years old. We had her for 16 years…I’m still in disbelief. I loved her more than anything. Words can’t describe my love for this sweet girl.

I’ll probably share memorial thoughts later, but for now below are non-uploaded posts documenting thoughts on Pippi and her physical and dementia progression over the months, posts I meant to upload from May and July, after we left and returned to Pippi from an international trip, and a September post I meant to share 3 weeks ago before heading to New York.

May 28, 2025:

“My 17+ year-old Pippi love has been experiencing slowly progressing dementia for the last year. I am disabled, nearly immobile, so I can’t pick her up when she’s having a moment. With dementia, you become withdrawn, so my Pippi love, once my constant shadow, rarely approaches me anymore. Most of the time, I’m not sure if she knows I’m there—her sight and hearing are also affected. (She still has a great appetite, a good sign.) Throughout the day, Jason lifts her up to my face so I can remind her that I’m near and she’s not alone, and for a moment she returns to her old self with a kiss and a, “Oh, there you are, Momma!”

Since we left Pippi a few hours ago on our trip, I’ve been looking at Pippi photos and videos nonstop. The mom guilt is thick and ravenous. We had already booked our trip before Pippi’s dementia progression became obvious. The last month progressed more due to our house flood renovation, or else we wouldn’t be doing a long international trip right now. You’re my everything, Pippi. Don’t forget me. I’ll be home soon.”

Pippi’s words: “I haven’t been myself lately. This makes Momma sad. I don’t visit and cuddle her anymore, our favorite thing to do. I used to want to be near Mom all the time, but now I feel different. Strange. I want to be like before. I often feel lost and confused. I can’t stop pacing, and I don’t look Momma in the eye anymore. I know this hurts her. Sometimes my mind confuses me on who my humans are, but today I sensed Momma was leaving for a while, so I crawled on her lap, looked her in the eyes with love and awareness, and cuddled her hand tightly for a long time. Momma is weak and can’t wrap her arms around me any longer, so I hug her. Momma needed this because she has been crying a lot lately. I think it's because of me. I thought my hug would make her stop crying, but it made her cry more. Don’t cry, Momma. Don’t forget me. Come back soon.” (May 28, 2025)

July 1, 2025:

“Finally home with our Pippi girl. Here are some etched notes of our first 24 hours home.

Travel was hell. Almost 24 hours of flying, no sleep, physical and emotional pain from my body, from societal dehumanization just because I’m disabled and in a f*ing chair. Let’s just say I cried at the Singapore airport, and on Singapore Airlines with a flight attendant wiping my tears inside a painful and very cramped galley as a team of people dangerously tried to throw my body into an alleged accessible bathroom that collapses the shared wall on the other side to create a “bigger” space but it was horribly designed and hardly still able to fit someone as small as me.

Dear Airlines: Hire me, a disabled industrial designer who has so many ideas on how to design bathrooms that make efficient use of space and are actually accessible. You can add massive private bathrooms for first class, and install queen beds onto airplanes, so please get serious and add wheelchair-accessible bathrooms, an addition that is more medically essential than a queen bed.

Most of the time, the country I have the most trouble flying through is America. Occasionally I have issues with international airports, but I always have problems returning to LAX. This time, while departing, they also stole my $1600 worth of wheelchair batteries with no explanation or representative to talk to. Then, arriving home at LAX is always a hell-ish experience, and this time was no exception. I don’t know what it is, but LAX, and many American airports I fly through, are bad, many times providing a lazy, mean, impolite, untrained, dehumanizing, and discriminatory experience. Every time. I always intend to share the story of me arriving home and what happens at LAX, but after a long international trip, enduring a long return flight, and blogging daily for weeks and months so my followers can come along, my pattern is I unintentionally check out and go MIA online for a month post-international trips.

Since we came back, I've really been feeling the gamut. Anger and frustration at the news that millions of vulnerable Americans, from disabled kids and adults, seniors, and veterans, will have their healthcare cut in the current spending bill, just so the rich and corporations don’t have to pay taxes and can buy another yacht. The injustice, the rich constantly exploiting the poor, the historic-level corruption, the blind and racist kidnapping of people from their beds without due process, the powerful bombing children and innocent civilians, while profiting from war, and installing famine, all sadly and horrifically to cheers and consent. It’s all awful and yet so predictable to human history. We are a broken record. It is frustrating that systems of power do not go after the powerful criminals, and only the poor and the middle class are beholden to the law. It’s angering that it’s never enough for these powerful agents, these sociopaths, whose only motivation is the pursuit of more money and power, even if it means ripping people apart and provoking the worst versions of ourselves through fear-mongering.

With all the bad, my good in the world is my sweet Pippi, who verifies that love, compassion, kindness, and empathy is the best kind of power, and I’m just so happy to be back together in our space of love.

After we picked Pippi up, she was a bit disoriented, anxious, and whining, which is to be expected in a senior dog with dementia who was removed from her environment for weeks and then returned. Obviously, it is difficult to see Pippi this way as it’s so unlike her, just like it’s been hard to witness her progressive senior years. One of the most difficult aspects of Pippi’s disability combined with mine is my inability to help her, pick her up, pet, and comfort her when she’s just fallen off the bed or crying in anxiety because Jason is gone and she thinks she’s alone when I’m sitting on the couch right in front of her, but she can’t hear or see me because I’m immobile or when she’s caught in nonstop circular dementia pacing. It breaks my heart; I can’t help her.

For years, sadly, I haven’t been able to independently pet my dog or pick her up and hug her like I used to, so a way I’ve adapted was constantly talking to her—my form of petting her. We’ve had so many nighttime conversations with her head on my chest, intently listening. She loves storytime and songs I sing for her, especially“Pippi, Pippi Little Star”.

After reuniting with Pippi, she struggled and paced in bed with anxiety, so I used my voice to soothe her and sang her song, a common tactic that typically works. Pippi has lost much of her hearing, but usually she hears me do this. As I was doing this routine, I was lamenting to Jason the sadness that Pippi can no longer hear, thus eliminating the only way I adapted to not being able to freely show her physical affection. But as we consoled her and reminded her we were there, and I began singing to her, I watched her head become heavier and heavier until it relented into slumber and I heard both Pippi and Jason snoring. And I felt good for a second that even in my disabled, immobile state that constantly makes me feel bad that I can’t do or be more for Pippi and others, that I still have something to offer my little dog and not a complete worthless dog mom or human, the burden in most’s eyes.

We don’t have children. A dream of mine since childhood was to have kids, but this was never realized due to a complex decision process. So, my Pippi is my entire world and family. It’s been interesting to see her adapt to me just as children do. Sure, petting became more difficult, forcing our relationship to change and evolve into petting her with words of affirmation, talking to her as if she understands me like when she play-fights Jason; she only really gets going when I’m in her corner cheering her on into pure joy. My voice has been her reminder that I’m always there, not touch. This is how adaptation works, and you know what, our relationship hasn’t been any less. I love you so much, Pippi. 🩷” (July 1, 2025)

July 21, 2025:

“Three weeks since we returned home, and it’s been amazing. Pippi seems like she’s doing so much better in terms of her dementia. For the last year, she has slowly separated herself from me, which means she doesn’t approach or cuddle me as much anymore. Once our favorite morning and bedtime routine with her lying so close to me is now nonexistent, but the last 3 weeks, Pippi has been an absolute snuggle bear, lying next to me 24/7, attached to lots of Pippi kisses while I recoup from travel. All the pics of Pippi in bed in this post were from the last few weeks. It’s been heaven, and I’ve missed this Pippi for a long time. She’s my everything.” (July 21, 2025)

Sunday, September 12, 2025:

“At the airport waiting for a red eye. Full disclosure, I woke up this morning in absolute doom, gloom, and dread, crying, and it hasn't stopped. I showed up to my hair appointment crying and did therapy hour with my stylist. I sense something terrible is about to happen, a feeling I typically have right before my sensitive visions become true. I may write more of how and why I’m so blue later, a mixture of things including my ailing dog, a progressive body that is so close to complete finger immobility, and the progression and direction of society. I was literally fighting myself to not cancel this NY trip until the Uber showed up an hour ago. It sounds awful. Of course, I’m grateful. Who else gets to go to New York because they wrote and illustrated a book?? I should be happy just releasing a book, but much of this year has been a lot of grief and sadness behind post updates, and when you're like that, it's easy to not want to be seen. There's also a lot that comes with talking about a book like this (Yumi and Monster inspired by my disability). I’m also not in the mood to deal with the pain, the fatigue, the ignorance, the problems that always arise when you fly as a disabled person. I hate that the feeling of not wanting to do anything has increased in the last couple of years, and I’m doing my best to fight these flight responses. In many ways, being the center of attention has become more weird for me even though I’ve been an advocate for 19 years. I'm fine when I’m in it, it's getting there and the process prior that has become challenging. I know I’ll be fine once I get moving, as the typical challenge at this stage of progression is getting myself going enough for endurance to kick in. Anyways, I thought I’d be honest about my true feelings that contrast such a momentous moment in my life. Something I want to share when I speak is to remind people that acceptance does not mean you don't still struggle.

Despite all these complicated feelings, I look forward to meeting New York, my publishing team, and followers of this story.

Monday, September 15, 2025 @ 10:32 a.m.:

Pippi dies. 💔 Memorial thoughts to come later.

Art is Democratic

The Arts are democratic. Art is inclusive; it brings people together. Art looks for truth. Art embraces diversity, and that’s why art is a threat. That’s why we are a threat.

— Robert De Niro, 2025 Cannes Film Festival

Art and creativity have meant so much to me; it has literally saved my life. As a near-completely immobile individual, creativity is my movement, and I don’t know what shell of a person I’d be without it. For me, expression is essential.

The arts, education, books, and ideas threatened into submission demand our immediate attention and sincere contemplation no matter who you voted for.

The administration has issued numerous executive orders (we know he’s great at signing his name) to attack, deplete, and destroy education and the arts. These orders target institutions like universities, public education, media, nonprofits, life-saving research, libraries, parks, and museums that don’t align with their ideological agenda or bow to the government’s control and censorship. In a recent move, the state has even proposed a budget that would eliminate the only agency dedicated to museums and library services (IMLS) in an attempt to control and shut down libraries.

For the first time, the state is exerting great control over the arts, requiring oversight of specific institutions. The Vice President and a Florida insurance lawyer have been tasked by the president to review and eliminate properties, programs, and presentations from universities, libraries, and museums that they perceive as unfit or incorrect.

Where is the freedom? People, institutions, and companies are so concerned that they are changing in production book titles and illustrations to avoid being filtered or removed in today’s climate. The film industry is in turmoil over the potential consequences of state influence. Shutting down departments and institutions under the guise of “security” or “cost-cutting,” or the President taking over the Kennedy Center and self-nominating himself to monitor and control the arts, is not freedom.

Additionally, funding for libraries, public broadcasting, research, and museums is a mere drop in the annual federal spending bucket of $6 trillion. Nearly 1 trillion of this is military-industrial complex spending. And yet the administration approves their spending bill that provides $4.5 trillion in tax breaks to corporations and the wealthy, adding trillions to the deficit, and cutting $880 billion in Medicaid to pay for it.

It’s never been about the deficit.

There has been a concerted federal effort to survey, erase, and rewrite history, including removing historical facts, people of color, and women from official sites. Museums like the Smithsonian National Museum of African History and the Japanese American National Museum (JANM) are being attacked and ordered to scrub things the government dislikes, remove artifacts, exhibits, and programs the administration deems incorrect or inappropriate, or face defunding, as seen in the Smithsonian’s recent coincidental “switching” of artifacts and postponing an LGBTQ exhibition that had been in preparation for a while after receiving the order.

While some institutions are yielding, museums like the Japanese American National Museum have refused to be silenced and will not compromise their principles. “JANM will not erase anything and will stand up for social justice. We are also committed to diversity, equity, and inclusion,” said the JANM CEO.

The irony that the state is attempting to influence JANM, and America's stain of Japanese internment camps, is not lost on me. These camps were one of the greatest legal travesties in American history, where tens of thousands of innocent Japanese American citizens were forcibly imprisoned simply because of their Japanese heritage in 1942. The actions taken during this period were devoid of any trial or due process, relying on the Aliens Enemies Act of 1798 to incarcerate innocent individuals. This same Act is now being exploited by the current administration to “disappear”, remove, detain, and deport individuals to a foreign prison without any due process.

Furthermore, the administration’s explicit attempts to starve various agencies and social programs, making them inaccessible or inoperable, like they’re currently doing with Social Security by cutting phone lines so American citizens don’t have access, are designed to justify complete shutdowns (due to self-imposed destruction) or privatization. These include the National Library Association, which ensures the accessibility of libraries across the country, museums, and now, public media. A PBS Kids show that I have been working on for several years and recently launched (Skillsville) was just canceled because of this administration… because it incorporates “DEI” elements, such as featuring children of color and a disabled character, so its funding grant was removed.

The administration has expressed its ultimate desire to eliminate PBS and NPR. This is just the beginning.

History tells us critical and free-thinking are a threat to power. Cutting services and the arts isn’t protecting us from evil “DEI”, cost-cutting, or efficiency; it’s about inhabiting and maintaining control. Creativity and art throughout history have always challenged the times, and to try and control it says everything about the not-so-hidden motivations.

Art is a collective expression of thoughts and unique perspectives. It serves as a form of conversation, fostering nuanced understanding and connection within society. Art has the power to unify and transform, challenging ideas, times, and even serving as a historical mirror of morality to society. It is a form of storytelling that inherently reinforces democracy and questions authority.

Creative expression is accessible to everyone, regardless of class, race, or background. It’s for and by the people, enabling all voices to be heard and transcending cultural, social, and political boundaries. Through shared experiences and emotions, art connects people. Art challenges our assumptions and ignorance, forcing us to expand our horizons beyond our severely limited perspectives. Without freedom of ideas and creative expression, we can’t truly explore the vastness of humanity.

In the context of the government and the First Amendment (a first for a reason), freedom of speech is freedom of expression, and freedom of expression is freedom of speech. The state’s requirement for institutional oversight of creative expression undermines this fundamental principle.

Also, the game of “Whataboutism” has got to stop, because it (team partisan sports) is precisely why we have the system we have today. Wrong is wrong. Corrupt is corrupt. Authoritarianism is the quest for control specifically over those who dissent. We can still think the left doesn’t have its game or messaging together, or has issues with the revolving door and corruption, and still criticize what is happening right now.  Two truths can exist at the same time, and each individual, group, or institution should be scrutinized on its own record, alone. This kind of unprecedented government overreach, specifically from a party who claims to be about “less government”, should capture everybody’s worrisome. #KamWrites

For more ♿️ travels, art, mini-memoirs, and disability, accessibility & life musings: https://www.Instagram.com/kamredlawsk