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This weekly column is inspired by students and news trends that remind us to “spill the tea” on what’s good. Shout out to Solutions Journalism, Fix the News, Good News Movement, and My Unsung Hero - check them out. Shout out to Millie Rodbell for the name Positivi-tea!
The goal is to practice seeing and spreading the good - looking for positive stories to balance out all the negative ones or finding a positive kernel in what seems like a bad or negative event. Building a practice of finding positivity is not about being naive or avoiding tough times - it’s about reminding ourselves that life can be hard, uncertain, and even unfair sometimes and resilience is fueled by hope and confidence built through action.
by: Dr. Boehner
date: January 14, 2026
Yesterday I came home from school and as I walked up my front steps, I heard Bella barking.
I smiled for a second before realizing my mistake. We had to say goodbye to our sweet girl in October. She was boundless love and patience. The positive I find in this resides in the twelve years of her companionship and as Winnie the Pooh says “how lucky am I to have something (someone) that makes saying goodbye so hard.”
Hearing Bella’s bark today was not an anomaly, I hear her often, and I still catch myself sometimes excited to get home to snuggle her, or eagerly anticipating how much of my snack I’m going to share with her.
This persistence of her memory made me think of Hachiko - a famous dog in Japan whose story was made into a movie.
Hachiko’s companion (I always think “owner” sounds wrong) was a university professor and every morning Hachiko would walk with him to the Shibuya station to begin his morning commute. Every evening, Hachiko would return to the station and wait for the professor’s train so they could walk home together. Sadly, one day, the professor had a cerebral hemorrhage at work so never made the return journey where Hachiko sat waiting for him. The story goes that Hachiko returned to the same spot at the same time every day for the next nine years until he also passed away.
This is a sad, but beautiful, story. People use it as a tale of extreme devotion. I felt really anxious, though, the first time I heard about it. Did Hachiko feel abandoned? Was he confused? Did he start every day with hope but return every night disappointed?
But I wonder if Hachiko's experience was more like mine.
I return home every day and part of me looks for Bella even though I know she is not here. I am still sad at the newness of missing her, but I’m also starting to find that looking for her lets me experience her presence. Right now I’m writing at the kitchen table and have placed my feet in the shape of her girth just like I did when she would lay underneath me. Looking for her is a way of remembering her.
I wonder if maybe Hachiko did the same thing. Maybe he knew what happened, but he continued to return not in anxious anticipation but in peaceful reflection. I like this thought. I do believe animals know more than we imagine. Where can I apply this myself? Where can I try to shift from worry to wonder?
(if you need a little more puppy content, check out this story about Brodie the St. Bernard and his friendship with his senior neighbor).
Check out past Positivi-Tea articles:
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