A van, a dog, and 3,000 kilometers
I was moving to Finland for a year with Marie, my girlfriend. Everything was packed in the van. Fremen, my dog, was with us. We’d crossed France, Belgium, Germany. Heading north.
When we reached Sweden, I wanted to check Fremen’s papers. His European pet passport, his vaccines. Routine stuff.
And then my blood ran cold.
The rabies vaccine had expired
Not by a week. By several months. I’d completely forgotten to get the booster.
The rabies vaccine is the one that gives your pet the right to cross borders in Europe. Without it, your dog legally cannot travel from one country to another.
Fremen no longer had that right. And I hadn’t even noticed.
”Your dog could be euthanized”
I called Swedish vets looking for a solution. Sweden is strict about these things. Very strict.
One vet warned me that he was required to report the situation. That Fremen could be euthanized at the border.
Euthanized. Not “quarantined.” Not “sent back to France.” Euthanized.
Over a vaccine I’d forgotten.
No easy way out
The only legal way to fix the situation was to go back to France, get Fremen vaccinated, wait the required period, then head back to Finland.
Except we couldn’t. To get back to France, we’d have to cross borders. And Fremen no longer had the right to cross them.
We were stuck.
A stroke of luck and a kind-hearted vet
We got lucky. Incredibly lucky.
First, we crossed the borders without being checked. Then we found a vet clinic. We didn’t call ahead. We just showed up.
Marie stayed in the van with Fremen, engine running, ready to go. We were terrified of being reported, again.
I walked into the clinic alone. I explained the situation to the vet. She looked at me, smiled, and said: “Don’t worry. We can clearly see he doesn’t have rabies. The vaccine is only a few months overdue. I’ll vaccinate him and backdate it.”
That relief. I’ll never forget it.
A few months later, once we were settled in Finland, we sent her a huge bouquet of flowers to thank her. Because no words felt big enough.
Writing these lines, I still get a lump in my throat. That moment was one of the hardest of my life.
What happened in my head
I was terrified of losing my best friend. Over a simple oversight. Just an oversight.
At the time, I wasn’t sleeping well. My memory wasn’t at its best. Even on a good day, remembering vaccine dates isn’t my strong suit. Back then, it was even worse.
I realized the problem wasn’t me. Well, not just me. The problem was that no tool existed to remind me of these things. A paper booklet in a drawer, a file somewhere on my phone. Nothing reliable.
The promise I made to myself
That day, I told myself: as soon as I have the time, I’m building an app for this. Something simple. You log the vaccines, the treatments. The app reminds you when it’s time. That’s it.
I would have blamed myself for the rest of my life if, because of that oversight, Fremen had been euthanized at a border.
It didn’t happen. And I’m going to make sure it never happens to anyone.
That’s why Wagly exists
Wagly was born from that fear. From that exact moment when I understood that my memory alone wasn’t enough to protect my dog.
Fremen is fine. He’s still right here beside me. His rabies vaccine is up to date.
And now, Wagly is here to make sure yours is too.