Marla Hoffman’s dog, Holly, sports her son’s Halloween pirate hat in 2018. Marla Hoffman/Sun Journal
Upon Holly’s arrival in my life nearly 13 years ago at just 9 weeks old, I immediately sensed she was the perfect companion I needed at that moment.
In 2018, Marla Hoffman’s son, Jameson, is engrossed in watching TV under the attentive gaze of Holly, with whom he shared a special bond. Marla Hoffman/Sun Journal
At that time, I had just discovered the possibility of never conceiving children due to a reproductive abnormality. It was a challenging period, and that adorable puppy filled a void in my life. She became the recipient of my affection and care, someone to nurture and cherish. My love for her was instantaneous.
I cherished the moments when she whimpered through the night, needing to be close to me. Her attentive demeanor during training sessions to learn commands like “sit,” “lie down,” and “come” was endearing. She was a welcomed distraction.
Throughout a divorce and multiple relocations spanning three states, she stood by me as a loyal companion. During my initial experience of living alone, she provided comfort and tranquility. Through subsequent moves, we offered each other the stability we both craved. Even during a car accident where she landed on my head after flying through the air, she reminded me of how fortunate I was to have her and to never take her presence for granted.
In February 2014, Marla Hoffman’s infant son, Jameson, cozies up with his beloved furry sister, Holly. Marla Hoffman/Sun Journal
She dutifully watched over my newborn son, my little miracle, demonstrating a deep understanding of his significance to me by rarely leaving his side.
As age caught up with her, evident in the graying of her once black face, the weakening of her legs, and her slower movements, our roles reversed over the past two years. It became my responsibility to care for her—arranging vet visits, administering pain relief, providing muscle massages, extra treats, and showering her with affection.
Marla Hoffman
For 13 years, that dog was my pillar of strength—towards the end, it was my turn to be hers. Witnessing her rapid decline was agonizing, yet I felt privileged to reciprocate even a fraction of the love and support she had given me.
On Friday, Feb. 2, Holly passed away, surrounded by love from myself, her mama, and my husband, Brent, who had also showered her with years of affection.
In 2013, Marla Hoffman’s dogs Shiva and Holly patiently await their turn with dad while he tends to baby Jameson. Their bond was instant from the moment they met. Marla Hoffman/Sun Journal
In the days following her departure, the house was filled with poignant reminders of Holly, triggering an outpouring of tears from the entire family, including the other pets. They would approach her bed and other favorite spots, sniffing in search of her lingering scent. Shiva, our other dog, would venture into the backyard, retracing Holly’s usual spots, seemingly questioning, “where’s my Holly?”
The absence of my closest companion is a challenging emotional journey to navigate.
However, amidst the sorrow, a glimmer of unexpected positivity emerged, courtesy of Holly’s legacy.
As mentioned in a previous column, tensions among our feline family members had persisted until Holly’s final days. The atmosphere shifted that week, with a noticeable change in interactions between our cats.
It began with tolerance—Athena accommodating Calli’s presence on the lower tier of her cat tree, a potentially precarious situation that ended peacefully. Subsequently, playful interactions ensued, with the cats engaging in spirited chases and playful antics. Witnessing Athena’s efforts to bond with Calli brought a sense of relief.
Recently, the cats were spotted napping together, displaying a newfound harmony as Athena affectionately groomed Calli. This newfound peace within our feline companions has brought back laughter and joy, a much-needed respite from the grief of Holly’s absence.
Our pets, inadvertently but profoundly, offer us unconditional love. Holly possessed an innate grace that brought solace—her mere presence or a gentle nuzzle could alleviate my worries. She mirrored my emotions, sharing in my joy and providing comfort during moments of despair. While her absence is deeply felt, I am filled with gratitude for the love she bestowed upon us.
I hope she feels that love wherever she may be.
Marla Hoffman, the nighttime managing editor for the Sun Journal, can be contacted at [email protected].