5 reasons my dog was more bad@$$ than you’ll ever be
Wild. Her breed was wild. Her spirit was wild. And now her spirit lives in me.
A friend admitted to me that Holly did not appear how she imagined her to look now that she’s finally viewed photo evidence of the dog that taught me to Stay Wild. I wonder what she imagined. And I love the idea of this—imagining what breed others think may match me and my personality. Naturally, this led me to searching every image I could possibly find of Holly in order to share them with you.
The timing is oddly, yet sadly, fortuitous since my friend wished one of her own sweet pups goodbye this past week. Hopefully, this ode to Holly can serve in honor as an ode to her as well. May the two be up to shenanigans over the rainbow bridge and beyond. Our love for you never ends. May you always live on in our hearts, our minds, our souls.
FIVE - The Escape Artist
February 24, 2007; In the cool mist of an early winter morning in Atlanta, Georgia, I’m bundled on a rock with a book. Not another soul around. The dog park at Piedmont Park this morning, really all winter, remained silent while my beautiful Brittany/Aussie mix rambunctiously patrolled the boundary and I delved deeper into the classical novel I picked up on a whim. Being a new dog owner, I wanted to give her space to explore and to trust me, so I waited. I checked the time. Again. Hmmm. She always comes back. Well, so far anyway. I shrugged and turn the page.
A few beats later I look up. There above, I notice on the hillside, a gazelle leaping through tall, wavy grass. HOLLY! How did she find a way out of the dog park?!? Panicked, I bolt to the back gate to demand her return. Yet, it quickly becomes a game to her. Keeping me in her sight with a mischievous grin, she eluded capture. A look that proved she already knew her irresistible charms claimed my whole heart.
Looking back, I haven’t a clue how she escaped or how I even finally lured her back into her leash. I do know though that her adventuring spirit taught me that however wrong escaping is or can be, joy springs from it. Observing Holly in her element as she frolicked through the hillside made me believe in an idea. An idea that nature provides more than escapism. Walking among trees flowers, on dirt or rocks, it opens a part of our soul.
FOUR - Companionship & A Rhythm to Life
Holly appeared in my life just shy of my twenty-third birthday. We all know how weird and lonely 23 feels. Trying to gain your footing in adulthood, in a career, in all things life. Many dancers have pets to stave off the loneliness and it’s well documented (or at least highly recommended by therapists) that pets, especially dogs, provide a judgement free companion and much needed responsibility. Stability? Yes, I s’pose that too.
I was wild of a different sort in my younger days and not the best dog mom but I don’t doubt at the end that Holly knew I adored her. Mostly, it was difficult for me to tell if she reciprocated all the deep feelings since she possessed the most cutting side eye toward me. Oh, how those honey-colored eyes could cut me like ice! Her dramatic flair even earned her the moniker, Hollywood. Yet, everyone else seemed to see it.
When at the dog park in Renton, WA she ignored other dogs and only wanted to play with me. It annoyed me until another patron mentioned, “You can tell the way she loves you in the way she looks at you.” Suddenly, I was no longer bothered by her need for me to also patrol the perimeter and to distract her with the few agility training options and be the one to keep her entertained. Now, obviously, I would give anything for a mere second of that opportunity.
The most difficult aspect of losing our fur babies is losing our rhythm. No one discusses this concept of unexpectedly experiencing a hole in our schedule. It’s true though. I was very lucky to have grad school to help me in that regard. Later, I was informed that I had been Holly’s last chance. She couldn’t be around cats as she had unfortunately taken a few too many out. Stealing the heart of vet techs who just couldn’t let her be put down, I lucked out with a soulmate to help me learn how to grow up while remaining young at heart.
THREE - Outsmart, Outlast, Outdo
Summer 2007 - Fall 2008; Holly could NOT be persuaded to leave the Nashvegas dog park. There were squirrels for the chasing, a greyhound for the chasing, a pack of dogs for policing, toddlers for the face licking, trees for the climbing (did I mention Holly liked to climb trees?!), and a multitude of other wild ramblings to be enjoyed. Four hours in and it didn’t matter that Mom had to get to work. No one could catch her, outsmart her, wear her out.
Summer 2012; At eleven years of age, Holly ran 5-minute miles for a 5k on a track as her evening walk. Oh wait, she had to walk the mile there and back too. Then, she conquered Granite Mountain by jumping up to snap at a bee while an impressed runner stated in passing, “I’ve never seen a dog still have that kind of energy while summitting this mountain.” And she wanted more. Another mountain. Another 16 miles. Another adventure. More. More. More.
Holly outdid other dogs and people too, in every way. I always wished I could exemplify even half of her energy, grit, and enthusiasm. I claimed she maxed out both her breeds and it still feels true. There’s never been and probably never will be such a force of nature in my life as Holly. She got me out in the backcountry and showed me how miles of vert could produce smiles. I hope my life honors her as her spirit lives on in me.
TWO - Getting Dirty & Staying Wild
Like all dogs, Holly LOVED getting dirty. It was tough in western WA though. Incessant rain made it difficult to keep those Farrah Fawcett waves in sleek condition. Yes, Holly did appear like a fox. Running down Squak with her tail swirling behind her made me giggle at my childhood memory of Tailspin, Sonic’s sidekick.
I happily followed in pursuit—both in trail running shoes and Wellies. Bathing in dirt every once in a while is soothing to our souls. I’m so fortunate Holly demonstrated that to me.
ONE - Joie de Vivre
In Birmingham, Holly couldn’t (and didn’t) resist the tree-lined sidewalks by tearing up each tree then floating down. No squirrel necessary. Just burning energy. Livin’ life to the fullest. Every. Single. Morning. She also, learned to leap onto, then flip off of my chest for funsies. Again, seemingly just because she could.
Every Spring when the dewpoint was oh so right, she ran and slid soaking up all that moisture on her nose, her side, her back, all sections of fur that could twist into it. In the winter, Holly relished eating snow. Rolling in it. Catching snowballs. Feeling the cold encircle her. Holly couldn’t learn enough, fast enough. She adored showing off all the tricks she knew or being taught new ones. Her insatiable thirst for life was the charisma that stole everyone’s hearts. Holly left much adoration in her wake.
If a human happened to be around she would slide to the floor and expose her belly for rubs. And if you stopped, she would kick you so didn’t forget your true purpose in life. When Holly first experienced ocean waves, she chased them. When Holly found a flock of plastic crows announcing a 40th birthday in a front yard, she dragged me after them. When holly discovered the smell of voles for the first time in Washington state, she dug them up. When Holly was released on new trails, she was unstoppable. Or trails she knew well.
She savored every moment. Holly taught me to do the same, which is why I now sign off with Stay Wild. It’s also precisely why I aim to relish every bit that life offers me. To get outside every single day. To try new things. To say yes to every opportunity for adventure. Savor every sunrise. Admire the twinkling of stars at night. To appreciate the minutia in life. To keep her spirit of joie de vivre alive. An inspiration I only hope to live up to.
Wild. Her breed was wild. Her spirit was wild. And now her spirit lives in me.