While I am not technically a Peninsula pup, my roots are firmly in Menlo Park, where my housemate and best friend, Coby, was raised and where my second-best friend (Coby’s father, Sloane) lives. Yep. You could say I’m here in the pages of PUNCH because of nePETism. I reside in Tel Aviv with Coby, who professionally does magical things in the air, but I just see him as the most tail-wag-worthy dad a dog could ever have. When he’s working, I get to stay with a wonderful woman named Hagit who treats me with much love, though I’m always thrilled when Coby comes to pick me up. Coby named me Lilly, partly for his great-grandmother and mostly because the name fits me so well. I’m cheerful, happy and always ready for any adventure. As a dachshund, I have short legs, but I keep up with Coby as we take our long walks each evening on streets such as Rothchild, Allenby and Dizengoff, and then back to our home in the Neve Tzedek neighborhood. When my second-best friend Sloane visits, he always brings me the tastiest treats from the States. I get so excited that I jump on him and lick his face until he finally says, “Enough Lilly, enough!” Then I wait five minutes and start all over again. Though I hope to one day visit my extended family on the Peninsula, for now I’m happy enjoying the beaches and open-air markets of my Israeli hometown.
Calling All Dogs: If you've got quirky habits or a funny tale (or tail) to share, email your story to hello@punchmonthly.com for a chance to share a page from your Diary of a Dog in PUNCH.