My dog went over the rainbow bridge last year.
If you've been there, you know there are no words for it. They're not "just a dog." They're the one who greets you at the door every single day. The one who knows when you're sad before you do. And when they're gone, the house feels wrong in a way that's hard to explain to people who haven't felt it.
I went to my shop because I didn't know what else to do.
I've been working with machines and metal and wood for 20 years. My hands know how to make things. So I took the best photo I had of him, and I carved it on my cnc. I sanded it until my fingers hurt. I finished it by hand and hung it on the wall — and for the first time since we lost him, I felt like he was still here somehow. Still part of the home he loved.
I'm Dominic. I'm 47 years old, a father of five, a grandfather of three with a fourth on the way, and I have loved animals my entire life. I live in southeast Wisconsin and I work out of my own shop where every single piece is made by me — carved, sanded, and finished by hand.
I didn't start Grain & Memory Studio to build a business. I started it because making that first piece healed something in me, and I figured I wasn't the only one who needed that.
If you lost someone with paws, or you want to honor one who's still here — send me their photo. Every piece is carved on my CNC from your photo, then hand-sanded and hand-finished by me, one at a time, here in my Wisconsin shop. I know what it means to you. I promise I'll treat it that way.