How Simby's came to be...

In September 2014, my daughter fell in love with a tiny Pomeranian who sealed the deal by winking at her, almost like he was choosing us. He came home as her early Christmas gift, but because she was away at college, he quickly became my constant companion. Simba grew up with me and my brother — following us everywhere, sleeping beside me, and becoming part of our everyday lives.

So when my daughter graduated and asked if she could finally take her Christmas present, the answer — lovingly — was absolutely not. Simba knew us. We were his safe place. And, if I’m being honest, it was really me who couldn’t bear to give him up.

In May of 2022, we made the decision to move to Texas to follow my daughter. Before the trip, I took Simba to the vet to get something to keep him calm for the long drive. What was supposed to be a simple visit turned into a nightmare — Simba had a meltdown, had to be put in the hospital sedated and on a ventilator. That’s when we learned he had an elongated soft palate. Every time he panicked, he was literally suffocating himself.

Once we arrived in Texas, we took him to a new vet who immediately scheduled surgery for a permanent tracheostomy — a little hole in his neck that helped him breathe. The following year, he had surgery to remove one ear canal, and the next year, the other. Through everything, he remained my little fighter.

After all of his surgeries, Simba depended on me completely. I couldn’t leave him alone — he was always right at my side, in my back pocket, my constant little companion.

On March 12, 2025, I had to leave him just long enough to take my dad for an eye procedure. Simba had another panic episode while I was gone. My brother was home, but I didn’t make it back in time. Simba passed away on 3/12/25. Even now, I cry just writing those words.

Losing him left a hole I didn’t know how to fill. I suddenly had all this time — time that was once spent caring for him, loving him, keeping him close.

So, Simby’s Tees N Stuff was born.

I had watched tons of TikToks about pressing t-shirts and sublimating mugs and tumblers. It looked fun, creative, and like something that might heal me a little by keeping my hands busy and my heart focused. My sister jumped in to help, and she even helped name the business — a little tribute to Simba, the one who inspired it all.

Simby’s isn’t just a shop.
It’s a piece of my heart.
It’s my way of turning grief into something creative.
And it’s my way of keeping Simba’s memory alive.