Ollice Wallace came to us in September 2008. He was a rescue dog brought from a puppy mill in Pennsylvania. When we first met him, he ran around the backyard of the foster home and would not stop running. He had so much energy! We brought him home to our first house which had a huge backyard. He would run straight to the back every single time I let him out to go to the bathroom. The way he ran, he would move unbelievable fast. He was so cute!

Ollie loved our other dog, Josie. He made a deeper connection with Josie than with anyone else in the family. That’s not to say he liked her. He would growl and snap and bark and jump on her. Josie was extremely tolerant of Ollie. Ollie was a mix between a chihuahua and jack russell terrier. When he was little, I bought him a sweater for the cold Cleveland weather and for Halloween, I bought him a superman cape. He quickly grew a huge barrel chest compared to the rest of his body and these no longer fit him.

Ollie saw all my kids born and grow. He was there every time I came home. We took him on all of our family vacations. He slept under the piano and behind the curtains near the sliding back door. He would growl and bark at anyone or anything. He loved to chase squirrels and his favorite toy was a squeezy ball. Ollie ate everything, except shrimp. He would not touch shrimp, not one bit. He once got into a bag of treats from Aldi and ate almost the whole bag. He was sick for 2 days after that. He also ate a chocolate bar once and I had to give him hydrogen peroxide to get him to throw up.

I walked Ollie most everyday, brushed his teeth, fed him, hugged him, played with him. He would sleep under the piano during the day and would growl at the kids as they ran by. He would sneak the rest of Josie’s food every dinner. He would inhale his food and then look at me with this look of unfairness, how could you not give me food but give Josie food (she of course would still be eating). He would wait for bed at my pillow until I came into the room, then move to the foot of the bed. When it was time to brush his teeth he would walk over to the side of my bed and roll over, squish himself up against the pillow and wait. He hated getting his teeth brush but he did it every time. In the morning he would jump over the end of the bed and onto the bed at the foot of my bed, then jump down. He was careful with the floors. His little paws could not grasp the wooden floor so he would occasionally slide on the stairs. He would not come to me ever, and at night, he would just pace around until I got up and brought him up in the bed. Near the end, I carried him up to my bed to sleep at the far corner. I gave him 3 pills a day, twice a day for close to two year. He would not take them easily, so I had to shove them down his throat. He coughed his heart out for over a year and a half. At the end he could not even sleep a night without panting and coughing throughout.

Ollie had his routines and would not deviate from them. He liked his routines and stuck to them. He would poop in the house if I left him downstairs at bedtime. He would pee in the cage if we left him in the cage on RV trips. He loved RV trips and would faithfully sit between the front two seats, even though it was probably not the most comfortable spot. He did not like walks, but dutifully went on them all the way to the end. He did not like baths, but knew he had to have them. He taught me that you don’t have to like anything but you do have to do it. I love him. He was my dog. He was my second child. He was my baby.