My Animal Friends – Hand-Carved Soapstone Companions

We`re celebrating the launch of our new gift range of My Animal Friends which include fascinating details of the symbology of each animal and a storycard describing how these beautiful items are made.

My Animal Friend is a joyful collection of hand-carved soapstone animals, each lovingly shaped by skilled artisans using traditional tools and techniques. From majestic African wildlife to playful pets, mythical beasts to gentle farmyard friends—every piece carries a story.

So we`d thought we`d create a story of our own about a mysterious soapstone dog...                        

 🐾 The Dog That Walked the Wind - the story of the soapstone dog

A Folktale from the Village of Wren Hollow

No one saw who placed it there.

One morning, nestled in the moss by the old well, a small soapstone dog sat - ears perked, tail curled, eyes closed as if listening to something only it could hear. The villagers of Wren Hollow, used to finding feathers, twigs, and the occasional lost glove, paused. This was different.

Mrs. Elkin, who hadn’t left her cottage since her husband passed, was the first to pick it up. She felt warmth - not from the stone, but from within. That afternoon, she walked to the bakery for the first time in years, humming a tune she hadn’t sung since childhood.

Then came young Tomas, who had stopped speaking after the fire. He held the figurine and whispered, “I remember the dog that barked to warn us.” His mother wept quietly in the doorway.

One by one, the villagers passed it between them. Each found something: a forgotten laugh, a reason to forgive, the courage to dance, the strength to walk again. The figurine never changed, but its presence did.

Some said it was carved by a wandering artisan who understood the language of grief. Others believed it was shaped by the wind itself, a gift from nature to those who had forgotten how to feel.

The village changed. Paths once overgrown were walked again. Stories were told. Bread was shared. And the soapstone dog remained - silent, listening, waiting.

No one claimed it. No one tried to keep it. It simply moved, from hand to hand, heart to heart.

And when it was gone - vanished as quietly as it came - Wren Hollow did not mourn. They knew it had walked on, carried by the wind, to the next village that needed to remember, to love, to come back to life.