Since it’s Memorial Day weekend, I wanted to bring a little levity to your day with a story from my personal archives—a funny incident that happened a few weeks ago.
As many of you know, I absolutely adore my puppies, Lily and Maya. They come to work with me every single day. They love getting their hair done with barrettes, they protect the office (and their mother) diligently, just like good puppies should. They have their own car seats, an extensive wardrobe, several cupboards full of jackets and outfits, and yes—even their own bougie stroller. Spoiled? 100%.
More than a few staff members have said that, in their next life, they’d like to come back as Lily or Maya—understandably so.
Let me set the scene:
Maya is sweet, affectionate, and obedient… but let’s just say she’s not the sharpest tool in the shed. She barks bravely but backs away if someone tries to pet her. She’s the type who might accidentally befriend a burglar.
Lily, on the other hand, is small but mighty. She’s sharp, stylish, and commands attention. She waits to be carried, expects her outfits to be on point, and absolutely has a human brain trapped in a tiny dog body. She holds grudges. She plots revenge. She’s basically royalty.
Now, here’s the Tale of Short Hills…
It was a sunny weekend, and we headed out to shop for some new furniture. Shaan, Rency, the puppies, and I piled into the car to make the 40-minute trip to the mall. When we do this, we go prepared—wipes, baggies, coordinated outfits, hair ties. The dogs know the drill and always look forward to their mini Starbucks puppuccinos.
As we strolled through the mall, Lily locked eyes with another dog. This usually doesn’t end well. Cue barking, dramatics, and what I imagine are angry yells of, “What are you looking at? Keep walking!”
Just as we were about to enter Crate & Barrel, the other dog approached. Lily went into full meltdown mode. In the chaos, Shaan quickly tried to close the top of her carrier but accidentally caught her paw in the zipper. We heard a sharp yelp, quickly freed her, and comforted her.
Later, as we were heading back to the car, we opened the carrier and discovered someone had thrown up. Based on the splatter pattern, we suspected Maya—since somehow Lily ended up covered in it. I mean covered. It was on her paws, her back, even her tail. Maya, meanwhile, emerged relatively untouched, aside from a little on her foot. I’m sure the yelp from Lily caused my already anxious pet to get upset.
So, there I was, bathing poor Lily in a public mall bathroom. And Princess Lily does not do public restrooms. She literally lifts her paws at dog parks to avoid the ground. The glare she gave me said it all: “Really, Mother?” The humiliation was real.
We managed to clean them up—sort of. Maya was back to wagging and skipping like nothing happened. Lily, however, was seething.
Fast forward to our drive home. We picked up dinner from California Pizza Kitchen, and Shaan was sitting in the back seat with Maya. Lily was restless—insisting on climbing to the back. Rency, sitting next to me, let her go.
About 20 minutes from home, we suddenly hear Shaan screaming in horror.
Remember what I said about Lily being vindictive? She had climbed into Maya’s seat… and pooped in it. Yes—pooped on Maya.
Now Shaan is gagging, Maya starts wailing, and as Rency tries to wrangle the dogs from the back seat, a piece of puppy poop gets flung to the front and lands on my windshield. I am driving 65 miles per hour down the Garden State Parkway, trying not to crash from laughing and crying all at once.
Yes, it was disgusting. But it was also one of the most hilariously chaotic moments I’ve ever experienced. It was pure, unfiltered, sibling-style retribution. If you’ve ever seen The Secret Life of Pets, you can just imagine the internal dialogue these two were having. Lily got her revenge—and she made sure Maya knew it.
Did we have to sanitize the entire car when we got home? Yes.
Did the stroller go through deep cleaning? Yes.
Were the car seats scrubbed, the dogs bathed, and everyone showered? Absolutely.
But despite the chaos, it’s a memory that now makes me laugh every time I think about it. It’s a reminder of how much I love my big personalities in tiny puppy bodies—and how much like humans they really are.
If you have siblings, you get it. Retribution is real.
I hope this story brought a smile to your face, just like it did for me while writing it. Here’s a few pictures of my babies—I’m sure you can imagine exactly what’s going through their little minds.
