Before You Read Brett's Newest Letter... 💛

Ok... before I completely wreck all of you with Brett's newest letter, please allow me to show off a few of the beautiful women I've had the privilege of serving lately. 🥹

I still can't believe this little lash and brow business has become such a beautiful and unexpected part of our family's story.

If you've followed our journey for any amount of time, you know this season has required me to continually LET GO of what I thought life was supposed to look like and trust God with whatever comes next.

And gosh...

He continues to surprise me.

What started as me simply trying to find another way to provide for Cambria, Willow, Lula, and Zion while Brett serves his federal prison sentence has slowly grown into something I genuinely LOVE.

Every new client.

Every referral.

Every woman who invites me into her home.

Every person who shares my business with a friend.

Every single appointment is helping me build a more stable future for our family while allowing me to do something that brings me so much JOY.

And I don't take any of it for granted.

Getting to sit with incredible women, hear their stories, laugh together, sometimes cry together, and then watch their faces light up when they see their fresh lashes and brows has become one of those unexpected gifts God tucked into a really difficult season.

So...to every single one of you who has booked with me, referred someone, shared one of my posts, or simply cheered me forward...

THANK YOU.

You are helping this mama continue to move our family forward, one appointment at a time. 💛

If you're in Orange County and have been thinking about trying a Korean Lash Lift + Tint, Brow Lamination + Tint, or BOTH, I would absolutely LOVE to come to you and give you your own little beauty transformation.

And yes...

I COME TO YOU! 🙌🏻

You get to stay home, relax, and hang out with me while I bring everything needed for your appointment.

Text me at 714-210-9014 to book or ask me any questions. And if you're not local but know someone in Orange County who might love what I do, sharing my name with them means more to our family than you probably realize.

Alright...

enough lashes and brows.

Go grab some tissues.

Seriously.

Because Brett just had to do something he knew was coming for 240 days...

but I don't think anything could have actually prepared his heart for it.

He had to say goodbye to The Fantastic Mr. Finn.

And as Brett describes their final morning together inside that dark cement cell, I think you'll understand why I'm currently an absolute WRECK over here in "The Free World."

This isn't just a story about saying goodbye to a dog.

It's about loving someone enough to prepare them for a future that eventually requires you to let them go.

Go read...

"Farewell Finn." 🐾💛

And please give my husband's heart a little extra love today.

LOVE...ALWAYS...WINS!!!!

---

Farewell Finn

Two big-bearded correctional officers wearing bulletproof vests swing open our heavy metal cell door and shine their brutally blinding flashlights directly into my bloodshot eyes.

These blurry and bulky guards stare me up and down for a few uncomfortable seconds before moving their piercing beams of light onto the body of my fast-asleep cellie, "The Networker." After visually confirming that both "The Networker" and I are, in fact, alive and still successfully incarcerated behind a razor-sharp fence, the two sleepy and slightly cranky nightshift officers move on to the next cell to finish their mandatory early-morning inmate count.

The moment these heavily bearded guards slam our WAY TOO LOUD metal door shut, my tiny cement cell immediately turns pitch black again. My tired eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness, and for a few seconds, I can't see more than two inches in front of my face.

BUT...

From the far corner of my eerily dark prison cell, I hear a familiar and heartwarming sound that instantly causes me to smile from ear to ear.

WHACK....WHOMP.....WHACK....WHOMP.....

The Finn Man's tail is wiggling back and forth, back and forth, relentlessly smacking against the plastic walls of his kennel in pure anticipation for another wonderful and fun-filled day in federal prison.

My genius pup is so dang smart that he already knows exactly what just happened. Those two sleepy correctional officers walking away from our cell means THAT WAS THE LAST COUNT OF THE MORNING, which means it's finally time for Finn to crawl out of his kennel and start another epic day with his favorite person...

ME!!!

Ever so quietly, I tiptoe across our cold concrete floor toward The Fantastic Mr. Finn's rocking and rolling kennel. I cautiously open his creaky cage door and kneel down beside my furry friend before gently resting my forehead against Finn's awaiting forehead.

For a few priceless seconds, we just stay there.

Together.

As Finn and I soak in one another's presence, our tiny cement cell seems to fall into a beautiful and peaceful stillness. The loud prison doors, early morning counts, razor-sharp fences, and harsh reality of incarceration somehow fade into the background as a tenderness fills the dark room.

I quietly whisper into my best friend's floppy black ears:

"Good morning, buddy.....I'm grateful for you."

After Finn hears these sincere words come out of my mouth, he calmly pokes his wet and squishy black nose just outside of his kennel door so I can easily connect his collar and leash. My buddy knows exactly what comes next because we've performed this little early-morning ritual hundreds of times together.

It's time for our sunrise stroll around the concrete compound.

For the past 240 days, my dear friend Finn and I have started our mornings in federal prison almost exactly like this.

The final count ends.

Finn's tail starts pounding against his kennel.

I open his creaky door.

We press our foreheads together.

I tell my buddy how grateful I am for him.

Then Finn and I quietly walk out into the chilly morning air together and watch another beautiful sunrise slowly illuminate a place built to punish people for their past.

These early mornings have become sacred to me.

Before the prison compound wakes up...before the hallways fill with hundreds of inmates...before work calls begin blaring over the loudspeaker...before another hectic day of prison life begins...

it's just me and Finn.

A convicted criminal and his future superhero service dog walking side by side underneath the early-morning sky.

For 240 mornings, I have watched those BIG FLOPPY BLACK EARS bounce up and down beside me while the sun slowly rises over a razor-sharp fence.

For 240 mornings, Finn has reminded me that even inside a federal prison, there is still beauty worth waking up early enough to see.

HOWEVER...

Today...

is different.

Because today is the very last time I will ever have the privilege of opening Finn's kennel door, placing my forehead against his, and whispering:

"GOOD MORNING, BUDDY."

In just a few short hours, The Fantastic Mr. Finn will move on to the next chapter of his superhero service dog story.

And in doing so...

he will leave my life forever.

Even writing those words hurts.

Thankful tears are dripping down my face and staining this handwritten letter as I desperately struggle to find words big enough to describe how much I'm going to miss my dear friend Mr. Finn.

I always knew this day was coming.

From the very first day Finn entered my life, I understood that he wasn't mine to keep. The entire purpose of our eight months together was for me to train, prepare, encourage, and LOVE this exceptional pup until he was ready to leave the prison walls behind and fulfill his purpose-driven destiny.

That was always the goal.

And Finn did it.

My buddy worked tirelessly to learn every complicated skill placed in front of him. He learned to "TUG" a wheelchair through difficult terrain. He learned to push "BUTTONS" that will someday open once-impossible doors. He learned to "VISIT" hurting people and somehow sense exactly when another human being desperately needed his furry head resting against their heart.

Most importantly, Finn learned how to become the confident, courageous, and loving service dog I always knew was hiding somewhere underneath all that wild puppy energy.

I am so dang PROUD OF HIM.

And yet...

knowing Finn is ready doesn't make saying goodbye any easier.

How do you say goodbye to a dog who made one of the darkest seasons of your life feel a little brighter?

How do you adequately thank a pup who brought laughter into a cement cell, joy onto a concrete compound, and unconditional love into the hearts of men who had almost forgotten what being loved felt like?

How do you explain to your furry best friend that somewhere along the way, while you were supposed to be training him...

he was helping heal you?

I honestly don't know.

What I do know is that I'm going to miss him more than these handwritten words could ever adequately explain.

Even though the thought of Finn's final goodbye makes my heart ache, I find immense comfort and peace knowing there is someone out there in "The Free World" whose entire life is about to change because of this one-of-a-kind pup.

Finn's forever person is going to absolutely adore him.

She's going to wake up every morning ecstatic that she gets to "do life" alongside The Fantastic Mr. Finn. The skills we've practiced thousands of times behind this razor-sharp fence are about to become tools that give another human being freedom, independence, confidence, and the ability to dream BIG DREAMS again.

The "TUGS."

The "BUTTONS."

The "VISITS."

The endless hours of practice.

The mistakes.

The breakthroughs.

The celebrations.

Every single one of those moments was preparing Finn for HER.

Somewhere out there right now, Finn's forever person may be praying through tears for a little more independence. She may be dreaming about adventures that currently feel impossible. She may be wondering what it would feel like to have a loyal companion standing faithfully beside her as she navigates the complicated realities of everyday life.

She doesn't know me.

I don't know her.

But Finn is about to connect our two stories forever.

I already know the instant Finn's forever person sees his signature smile and those BIG FLOPPY BLACK EARS bouncing toward her, she's going to feel something deep inside her soul.

I have a feeling there will be tears.

Lots of them.

Because while I'm standing behind a razor-sharp fence heartbroken that I have to say goodbye to my best buddy...

somewhere else, another person will be overwhelmed with gratitude because the answer to some of her most desperate prayers has finally arrived.

And gosh...

when I look at it that way...

how could I possibly be anything other than grateful?

Finn my friend...

the time has come for you to fulfill your purpose-driven destiny and become someone else's guardian angel with a tail.

Buddy, I feel so incredibly blessed that God chose me to be your prison puppy trainer. I'm honored to have been entrusted with one small chapter of your epic life story, and I will forever be PROUD of the extraordinary dog you've become during our incredible eight months together.

You brought so much light into this dark place.

You melted the hearts of hardened men.

You made forgotten people feel seen.

You gave hurting people permission to smile again.

And without even knowing it...

you reminded a broken federal prisoner that his own life could still have purpose too.

I'll carry that gift with me forever.

Now...

before we have to say that final goodbye...

let's go for ONE MORE WALK, buddy.

Let's step outside into the cool morning air and walk around this concrete compound together one last time.

Let's watch the sun slowly rise over that razor-sharp fence.

You walk beside me...

and I'll do my very best to soak in every single second of those BIG FLOPPY BLACK EARS bouncing up and down.

Because tomorrow morning, those same two sleepy correctional officers will eventually walk away from my cell after completing the final count.

That WAY TOO LOUD metal door will slam shut.

My cement cell will become pitch black.

I'll probably lie there for a second waiting to hear that familiar sound coming from the corner...

WHACK....WHOMP.....WHACK....WHOMP.....

But this time...

it won't come.

And that's when I think it's really going to hit me.

My buddy made it.

The dog I was entrusted to prepare for someone else is finally ready to go change that person's world.

So even though saying goodbye hurts like heck...

I wouldn't change a single second of our story.

Goodbye, Finn.

Go be great, buddy.

Go serve.

Go love.

Go open impossible doors.

Go bring hope back into hurting places.

Go become the guardian angel with a tail you were always destined to be.

And please know that somewhere behind a razor-sharp fence, your PROUD prison puppy trainer will always be cheering you forward.

Love you forever and ever, my friend.

Thank you for showing me that...

LOVE....ALWAYS....WINS!!!!

Sincerely,

Brett

(Your incredibly PROUD Prison Puppy Trainer who is going to miss hearing WHACK...WHOMP...WHACK...WHOMP... more than he ever thought humanly possible.)

---

A Note From Noél

Yep...

I'm an absolute WRECK after tearfully turning each tender page of Brett's heartfelt farewell letter to The Fantastic Mr. Finn.

Ugghhhh...

Just the thought of my husband waking up tomorrow morning inside a pitch-black cement cell thousands of miles away from me, Cambria, Willow, Lula, and Zion...waiting to hear that familiar WHACK...WHOMP...WHACK...WHOMP coming from Finn's kennel...only to be met with silence...

breaks my already heavy wife heart into a million shattered pieces.

For the past 240 days, Finn has been there.

When Brett woke up in the darkness, Finn was there.

When he walked outside to face another day behind razor-sharp barbed wire, Finn was there.

When missing his wife and children became almost too painful to carry, Finn was there.

When shame tried to convince Brett that the worst decisions of his life had somehow disqualified him from doing something meaningful with the rest of it...

FINN WAS THERE.

And somehow this energetic pup with BIG FLOPPY BLACK EARS and a heart overflowing with unconditional love became one of God's greatest gifts to my husband during an incredibly difficult chapter of our family's life.

BUT...

As painful as that picture is for me...

the thought of Brett and Finn standing beside one another each morning, quietly soaking in a breathtaking sunrise over their concrete compound, compels me to shout...

"HOW GREAT IS OUR GOD!!!"

Because only God could do something like this.

Only our GREAT & MERCIFUL God could take a cold cement prison cell and place a guardian angel with a tail inside of it.

Only God could take one of the most painful seasons of our family's life and somehow weave healing, purpose, friendship, service, and unconditional love directly through the middle of it.

Finn...

thank you from the very bottom of my grateful wife heart for loving my forever person when I physically couldn't be there to do it myself.

That may be the part that gets me the most.

There have been thousands of moments throughout this prison journey when I desperately wished I could reach through the phone, drive across the country, crawl through those prison walls, wrap my arms around my husband and remind him...

"I SEE YOU. I BELIEVE IN YOU. I'M PROUD OF YOU. AND YOU ARE SO DEEPLY LOVED."

I couldn't.

But Finn...

you could.

You could sit beside him.

You could walk beside him.

You could rest your furry head against him.

You could wake up inside that cement cell with him.

You could look into his eyes without knowing anything about the mistakes of his past and simply LOVE the human being standing in front of you.

And I will never be able to adequately thank you for that.

You showered my husband in the kind of unconditional love that asks for nothing in return, and in doing so, you gently helped guide him back onto his purpose-filled path.

Because of you, Finnster, Brett rediscovered a servant's heart that had been buried underneath an enormous amount of pain and shame.

Somewhere between those early morning walks, endless training sessions, TUGS, BUTTONS, VISITS, belly laughs, puppy kisses, frustrating training moments, and quiet mornings inside a prison cell...

something inside my husband came alive again.

He discovered something he was GOOD at.

Something he genuinely LOVED.

Something that allowed him to serve another living being.

Something that reminded him he still had so much value to offer this world.

And now, after pouring his heart into Conrad, Finn, and this incredible service dog program, my husband is officially a Certified Dog Trainer.

Finn...

you were part of that.

Thank you for believing in Brett.

Thank you for trusting him.

And thank you for gifting him the opportunity to EARN your trust over these unforgettable 240 days.

I know my husband values that trust more than you will ever understand.

And while I'm incredibly sad knowing Brett has to say goodbye...

I also know something else is true.

You were never meant to stay.

Every sunrise...

every command...

every training session...

every obstacle...

every single one of those 240 mornings was preparing you for this exact moment.

Because somewhere outside those prison walls is another human being who needs you now.

Someone has been waiting for you.

Someone has been praying for you.

Someone needs those BUTTONS you've practiced a thousand times.

Someone needs your powerful TUG.

Someone needs your gentle VISIT.

Someone needs that contagious smile.

And most importantly...

someone needs YOU.

So Finn...

your forever person is calling you HOME.

It's time, buddy.

The man I love has done everything he possibly can to prepare you for this moment.

Now it's time to trot those BIG ADORABLE FLOPPY BLACK EARS through those prison gates and directly into your breathtaking future.

Go give your forever person the same unconditional love you so generously gave Brett.

Go help her dream again.

Go open doors that once felt impossible.

Go give her freedom.

Go make her laugh.

Go sit beside her on the hard days.

Go remind her that she never has to walk through life alone.

Go become the guardian angel with a tail God created you to be.

And while you do...

please know there is an entire Bartlett family over here in "The Free World" who will forever consider ourselves part of Team Finn.

Cambria, Willow, Lula, Zion, and I believe in you.

Your prison puppy trainer believes in you.

And we will ALWAYS be your biggest superfans.

Goodbye, Finn Boy...

YOU GOT THIS, BIG MAN!!!

We love you beyond words.

And from one wife whose heart has been deeply healed by two extraordinary pups living behind prison walls...

thank you.

Thank you for loving my husband when I couldn't physically be there to hold him myself.

Thank you for helping him rediscover his purpose.

Thank you for becoming part of our family's story.

And thank you, my furry friend, for being another living, breathing testimony that...

LOVE...ALWAYS...WINS!!!!

With so much LOVE & GRATITUDE,

Noél

(A wife whose heart has been healed by two amazing pups in prison...and who will forever be grateful they loved her husband when she couldn't physically be there to do it herself.)