My journey hasn’t been an easy one; it’s been a fight against the odds from the beginning. Growing up, I moved from town to town with my mother, never staying long enough to make friends or feel settled. Money was tight, so by the age of nine, I was already working. I started my first “business,” The Handy Kid, doing odd jobs around the neighborhood—shoveling snow, mowing lawns, raking leaves—anything to help put food on the table. While other kids had family cheering them on, I was told I was “a mistake,” “unwanted.” That kind of loneliness and rejection leaves scars, and without support, I found my only solace in animals, especially dogs. They were my family, my friends, the constant I could always count on.

Graduation day wasn’t a milestone; it was a harsh reality check. I was kicked out of my home that very day, thrust into the world with nothing but my drive to survive. I worked two full-time jobs and a part-time, filling my days and nights with hard labor. Drinking became a crutch, a way to numb the deep pain and isolation I carried. I reached points where the darkness seemed overwhelming, where the weight of rejection and struggle felt like too much to bear. But something inside me—some spark—told me to keep going, to find something meaningful.

That’s when I joined the United States Army, hoping it would give me the purpose and stability I needed. And it did. As a 12B Combat Engineer, I found a sense of belonging, strength, and family. My life changed when I was selected for a new program training K9s to detect landmines. This was my calling, and it led me to MWD Raja, a K9 partner who became more than just a dog—she was my friend, my rock. But when I was injured and had to leave the military, life hit hard once again. I was disabled, divorced, paying child support, and no one would hire me. The darkness crept back in.

I knew I had a choice to make: let the pain consume me, or find a way forward. So, with the last $50 I had, I took a leap of faith. I registered my business, United K9, printed some business cards, and started showing up at parks with Elektra, my Belgian Malinois and the future face of United K9. I worked with her publicly, demonstrating the power of connection and training, and within the first week, I sold my first package. That was the turning point. I didn’t have a business degree or funding, but I had grit, survival instincts, and a deep passion that wouldn’t let me quit.

Today, United K9 has grown from that initial spark into something beyond what I ever imagined. We’ve built United K9 Academy, expanded to 29 locations across Texas, and developed brands like United K9 Working Dogs, United K9 Service Dogs, United K9 Waste Unit, United K9 On Duty, UK9 Gear, UK9 Apparel, and the United K9 Directory. We’re pushing forward into new ventures, working toward GSA status, and creating prototypes that will redefine the dog training industry.

I don’t compete with others; my fight is against the darkness within and the person I was yesterday. Every day, I aim to be 1% better, knowing that if I can rise above my past, anyone can. United K9 is more than a business—it’s a legacy, a testament to resilience, and a beacon for anyone who’s felt like giving up.

In building United K9, I’ve discovered that even in the darkest times, we all have the power to rise, to find purpose, and to make a lasting impact. For me, it’s about helping others—humans and dogs alike—overcome, connect, and reach their full potential. No matter the struggle, United K9 stands as proof that resilience can turn pain into purpose and that true strength is born from surviving and thriving, no matter what life throws at you.