Lily Danced

A Celebration of a Beautiful Dog and Her Love of Life

Lily joined Network and I when she was 5 ½ years old. A product of a broken home, suffering from an overdose of food and underdose of love and attention, she was living in an outdoor kennel at the Healdsburg Animal Shelter for a couple months when I was volunteering there. She seemed like one of the best dogs at the shelter, a pure bred yellow lab, but she was terribly overweight. Strong as an ox and stubborn as a mule, the usual crowd of dog walkers couldn’t manage her and her odds weren’t good for adoption. I volunteered to take her through obedience school hoping it would increase her chances of finding the right home. I took her out on a weekend pass to get to know her a little better before the class started, and never took her back. The first hour in my home, it seemed like she was meant to be there.

On a proper diet, she quickly lost the excess weight, and a beautiful and proud lady emerged. If you ever went on a walk with us, you’ll remember how she pranced. Her passion was her soccer ball. As a goalie, she let few balls go by. If you ever watched her play, you will remember The Dance. As I prepared to kick the ball, Lily would watch my eyes, but still adjust to any change in direction. Her feet were dancing constantly, ready to move as soon as the ball moved. If I stood on the step above her, she would do a twisting back flip, snagging the ball out of the air as it soared above her head. Tennis balls also provided hours of entertainment. She would chew and dance and chew and dance, brushing her teeth on the soft green fuzz, eventually putting the ball on the ground to be kicked. If you tried to pick it up to throw it, you risked losing a finger. And if you ever heard the CLACK! of her teeth that often accompanied The Dance, you have respect for the power in those jaws.


Like many pets, Lily went by other names during her life. Houdini was one of the names I called her. One of the first times I left her with a dog sitter, she surprised us by launching herself up and over the back fence, at least 6 feet high, and running away across the vineyards. Other escape routes were open doors, open windows, closed doors, bank vaults. You name it, my little Houdini could find a way out. Once out, she would run. And I never tired of watching her run – it was either a carefree gambol from house to house until she made it down to the park a block away, or it was with all the power and grace and beauty of an Olympic sprinter. She also loved chasing birds. A romp on the beach turned into an hour long ordeal involving a flock of birds and the realization that I might be leaving her at the beach. Another visit to a friend’s ranch resulted in a 45 minute swim around and around and around a pond where she was trailing a couple ducks. Her last big run was in May at Sea Ranch when she got her old bones up over a short gate and took off across the meadow to play with a passing dog.

For the first year that she was with us, Lily was engaging in play, but at rest she was remote. After playing she retired to a pad across the room and left the cuddling to Network the Couch Potato. After a whole year, long after I had accepted her for what she was, she started to come closer for pets and love. Over time, she became very sweet and loving indeed. Through patience and consistency, I was able to win her trust and respect, and eventually a look from me was all it took to keep her from heading over the back fence.


Like a trooper, Lily endured the growing discomforts of Cushings Disease throughout 2005. After a final confirming diagnosis in July, we were told she had about 2 months left, so we set about to enjoy the rest of the summer as if any day might be her last. Playing soccer was too hard on her swollen joints and weakening muscles, so we played The Hose Game. When water sprayed out of the hose, she would wrestle it like a snake. My water bill for the month will be charged to the “Pet Supplies” account in Quicken.

By mid December, 5 months later, her body was a wreck, but her spirit was still strong. Faced with the growing odds that she would have a traumatic crisis, I made the hard decision to let her go peacefully. On December 19th, 9 days before her 12th birthday, surrounded by the wonderful people at Windsor Animal Hospital, who fed her chocolate kisses as she energetically wolfed them down, she laid her head down with chocolate still on her lips.

Country Singer Lee Ann Womack sings a beautiful song called I Hope You Dance. Lily Danced.