A Personal Note From Me

This past year has been one of the hardest chapters of my life.

For a long time, my divorce was described—almost casually—as something that might “make history” for how long it lasted (almost 8 years). Every time those words were said, my stomach dropped and my chest tightened. It wasn't a joke. It was a reminder that I was stuck in something that felt endless.

I worked my entire life to build something from nothing.

• The business wasn't planned—it was built out of love, care, instinct, and long hours.
• It became a family business.
• It allowed me to care for my daughters.
• And ultimately, I had to fight to keep it.

For most of that time, my ex-husband and father-in-law handled all financial matters—both personal and business. They were tax professionals and financial advisors. That world was never my strength. I am an operations person. I live in the day-to-day care, the logistics, the animals, the people. I trusted them completely—only to later learn that trust had been broken and that I had been financially cheated. That reality has been extremely difficult to process.

I lost far more than money.

• I lost time with my daughters.
• I lost years of my life.
• I lost energy, peace, and a sense of safety—because someone chose to continue trying to control me through a system that allows these battles to drag on for years.

Over the course of that time, I made five formal settlement offers, always trying to bring it to an end so everyone—especially my children—could move forward. Just last month, my attorney put it into words that stopped me cold:

“You've offered everything except your blood.”

That line captures the reality of how much I conceded simply to make it end—and how scared I was, and still am, stepping into what comes next.

There were days this past year when I could barely get out of bed.

What carried me through were two things.

First, you—the pet parents who reached out, checked in, and showed genuine care and concern. You noticed when I was quieter. You asked how I was doing. Please know how deeply that meant to me.

Second, your dogs.

Even when I stepped back from posting online, I never stepped away from the work. I showed up every day. I cared for your pups. I managed operations. I made sure nothing slipped for them. In many ways, they became my therapy. They grounded me. They reminded me why I started this in the first place. I genuinely love what I do, and I love each dog entrusted to us.

My silence wasn't disengagement—it was survival.

I also want to express my deepest gratitude to my team—Jennie, Ryan, Nancy, and Julio. When I was exhausted, overwhelmed, and worn down, they stood beside me. They carried this business with heart, integrity, and commitment, and I will never forget that.

I share all of this not for sympathy, but for honesty.

The family court system is deeply broken. No divorce should last years—especially when children are involved. The damage goes far beyond finances, and too often, it quietly devastates families behind the scenes.

That said, this is not just a story about loss.

As we look ahead, I want you to know one of the ways you can support not just me, but the entire Tribeca Pet Services team. The most meaningful support right now is simple: spread the word about what we do and the care we provide.

Thank you for trusting us with your dogs.
Thank you for your patience, kindness, and loyalty.
And thank you for allowing me the space to heal while never letting go of the work I love.

With gratitude,
Diane