I’ve written several pet obituaries over the years, and when doing so I could never imagine what I could write to express how special Holly was to me. Tonight I came home from work, lights were out, not uncommon. Izzie was excited as usual. Holly was asleep in her usual spot, but tonight she didn’t wake up.
In early fall of 1998, Donna and I, settled in a new house, having those nurturing feelings, decided it was time to get a dog. At the Nashville Humane Association, we found a cage full of fluffy yellow puppies, Donna picked that puppy on cuteness, much to my dismay. I had read piles of books on puppy behavior, and jumping all over you, trying to get that tongue in your mouth, as the other 12 week olds cowered was probably not smart. On the way home she tried jumping out the window at least four times. Though we never had human kids, she was a great runner up.
Holly puppy was crate trained. Many cold November nights I woke at 2am to walk her. I’m glad the neighbors knew that burglars didn’t make sounds like someone trying to get a puppy to pee.
She wasn’t always a great dog. She would run off and ignore you, or chew something up. Petsmart classes were a disaster. We finally found a pro, we avoided a divorce over a dog.
Holly had lots of ‘buddies’. There was Joe the dog, cats Jetty, Lily, Dawson and Bitty. Of course Izzie is sharing my grief, though they sometimes tried to kill each other.
Holly loved to swim, even in the dead of winter. She hated fireworks and guns. She had talent for surprising unsuspecting dog lovers with a deep-mouth French kiss. She was an expert hunter / killer, savaging chipmunks, squirrels, baby rabbits, voles, etc. Sometimes, between digging up the neighbors’ plants after a chipmunk, she could be seen patiently waiting out a squirrel in a tree, frustrated that I would make her give up in the dark. She could steal all the Doritos off a sandwich plate on the counter, with only her Dorito breath to give her away.
She was a horrible guard dog. I had friends arrive in the middle of the night, not even a growl. When Bitty cat would rub on her in the middle of the night, she would growl and scare me into thinking it was a burglar!
As she aged, her skeleton gave up, her hips deteriorated, her legs stiffened, cataracts and her hearing, probably her liver. Neighbors won’t hear that whistle I made, only thing that could get her attention. She still loved her walks, sniffing, seeing the neighbors, eating gross stuff. This is why as a 45 pound dog she lived to be 17.
Taking her on these walks was a labor of love. I’d do it a million times, walk in that cold backyard with that puppy over and over again for an eternity. I’ll never walk down that road again without thinking of my sweet baby dog, Holly Clements. You will always own a piece of my heart, loving, companion, best friend. Rest in peace my baby girl.