I love you, my sweet Holli dog

I will miss
your saucy eyes
your deep bark
your short legs
I will miss
your sweet little kisses
your sleepy smell
your playful gallop
I will miss
coming home to you
drifting to sleep
as you snore away
I will miss
slipping you a fry
hearing you crunch on chips
the way you licked my cups
I will miss you
a moment each day
love you always
sweet Holli dog


my baby girl, Holli

Our Holli dog took her last breath around 11:05 AM on St. Patrick’s Day. I held her as she rested her head and her heart stopped. My funny little dachshund was gone.

So ended our 18 year run of being doggie parents.

I went back to work but didn’t stay. When I came home and opened our front door, there was no little face to greet me. Her doggie beds were empty. The bowls of water and food would never feel her snout again. Her toys were still strewn on the floor of the living room. They would stay like that for just a day.

holli and her daddy
Holli and her daddy back in the day

It’s hard to think that we won’t hear her horse-like gallop on the carpet or hear her snoring when she sleeps. I won’t laugh again at the sight of her with her toy in her mouth while running around and wanting to play. She will not lull me to nap in the middle of the day or snuggle with me while I watch a movie. No more little kisses or big brown eyes giving me the guilt trip when I’m eating something she might want. No more need to save some fries or chips or have her lick my fingers. She won’t roll on her back for a tummy rub or slap her paws on the couch when she wants out. No more snout in the air to suss out what we might have cooked or brought home for dinner. No more burying herself in her blankets when it’s sleepy time. No more sleepy hound smell after she wakes from a nap. No more happy wag of the tail when we come home or the growl and bark when we’re talking and she wants attention. She won’t be there when we leave for us to say, “Be good!” And she won’t be there when we come home for us to ask, “Were you good?”

My weekends home alone will now be truly ALONE. Holli won’t be beside me to watch rugby or remind me to let her out. She won’t be there to bug me when I’m sitting at the computer trying to write. She won’t be waiting for her after shower treat or running to me when I call. She won’t lick my toes when I’ve got my feet by her face. She was part of my definition of HOME but now she’s gone.

Holli as a pup

We got her as a puppy, the runt of her litter. She was our third dog and trained by our other two. She spent her first years as one of three then most of her years as one of two. She spent the last year or so as the only one but she didn’t seem to mind. She was an independent dog who could go to her bed and nap away but she was also affectionate and sweet to us. She wasn’t needy or clingy but had just the right balance of that independence and affection. For over ten years, she was part of our lives, a sleek, long dog with little legs who loved us unconditionally but especially when we gave her treats and snuggled with her.

I cried myself to sleep the first night without her.

Holli running

No more Holli aka Pookie, Holli-kins, Pookie-kins, Holli-balls. She answered to it all but now no more. She’s running in the sunshine with our lab Meggie and our Yorkie Saffy, having delightful doggie adventures without us.

Good bye, my sweet and spunky little Holli. I miss you so much already. I love you.

moments before her heart stopped and mine broke