14 July 2023

If you subscribe to my newsletter, you know why it took me so long to finally write about Holly. I would start and stop so frequently. I’m sorry it took me so long to share her with all of you.

Holly is our accidental puppy.

We were still grieving Romanov, missing him desperately, when my friend sent me a photograph of a Siberian Husky that was lost and found in her neighborhood. She had walked into a leasing office and climbed onto the sofa, making herself at home.

Obviously, they could not keep her in the office and were preparing to send her to a shelter if they could not find her owner.

So why did my friend send me Holly’s picture?

She looked a lot like Romanov.

We agreed to foster her, knowing we were not emotionally ready for another dog.

Holly came to live with us two days before Christmas. She was so emaciated you could see her ribs, feel her vertebrae. She had a cut in one of her ears and another on her muzzle; didn’t like us to touch her below the waist, especially not her over-curling tail, which curled too much because it had been broken; had obviously given birth to a litter of puppies, which is why we suspect she was a puppy mill escapee.

Shortly after New Year’s Day, we realized we were going to keep her. She was so damaged, she would flinch if we gesticulated (e.g. adjusting glasses or pushing hair behind your ear). We struggled to find food that did not give her diarrhea, which is why we didn’t believe anyone would have sufficient patience for her.

I confess, we weren’t even sure we would have enough patience.

But we did.

It was months before she would sleep on her back, her belly up and exposed, but she eventually did. Her tail went from being down most of the time to being up most of the time, a sure sign of a husky’s happiness. Her wounds—physical and emotional—healed.

Those who met Holly in those early days see she is a different dog now because love is magical. And we love Holly so very much.

Holly did something else, too. She taught Rob to let dogs on the bed. They aren’t allowed to sleep there overnight but, during the day, when we are doing things in other parts of the house, she can go up there and lie down. It’s okay.

And she does.

But only with permission. In fact, she often walks into the bedroom and will start barking. When we go in, she’ll wait for us to say “get on the bed” before jumping up. Better still, she’ll go in there, get our permission to get up on the bed, then a few minutes later start barking again. Why? Because she wants us to be in the same room as her. Sure, she could come into the room we are in but, nope, she wants us to come to her.

Sweet, silly girl.