CLOVER’S FIRST PARADE

March 2026

Clover’s first parade was the Mid-Hudson St. Patrick’s Day Parade, and from the very first step, she walked into it like she belonged there.

The street was alive with sound. Music echoed from marching bands. Flags waved. People lined both sides of the road, cheering, clapping, and calling out to friends and strangers alike. It was the kind of noise and movement that can overwhelm even seasoned dogs.

Not Clover.

At just one year old and already 155 pounds, she moved forward with calm, steady confidence—head up, eyes bright, completely tuned in to her people. She didn’t flinch at the noise makers. She didn’t react to the barking dogs as we passed them. Even with a marching band close behind her, drums beating and horns blaring, she never once showed concern. She was happy, present, connected, and working.

Behind her, walking just as steadily, were the two people she trusted most—Justin and me—watching her with a kind of pride that is hard to put into words. We were proud of her steadiness, her joy, and her presence in the world. We were proud of the way she was meeting this moment—fully, beautifully, and completely.

The whole day felt fun, light, and happy in a way that filled everything.

There had been a quiet question before the day arrived, a small uncertainty about the event. This was the first parade since Shamrock, and there had been some wondering whether it might feel like something was missing, whether the joy would be edged with sadness. Yet even as the day began, that question never had much space to take hold. Clover was going to love this. That much was certain. As we set out, the anticipation of her joy, her excitement, and the way she would meet the world filled everything. There was no room for sadness. There was only the moment in front of us. There was only joy. There was only Clover.

There was only one moment—just a flicker—when the world gave her pause. The massive rolling cars of the sovereigns came by, larger than anything she had ever seen, rumbling and gleaming as they passed. Clover hesitated for just a second.

What is that?

Then, just as quickly:

Oh. Okay.

She carried on.

We couldn’t stop to let people gather around her. The parade had to keep moving. Even so, hands reached out, voices called to her, and admiration followed her down the street. Somewhere in the crowd, a child’s voice rang out above everything else:

“OH MY GOD, THAT DOG IS HUGE!!!”

Clover kept going, steady and unfazed, until we reached the announcer.

Her name was spoken over the loudspeaker.

“Irish Wolfhound, Clover!”

The crowd responded instantly with cheers, applause, laughter, and delight. That was the moment she understood. Clover turned her head to one side of the street and then the other. Her tail lifted and began to spin like a helicopter. Her face broke into that unmistakable wolfhound smile. It was as if she were working both sides of the crowd.

Then she did that wonderful wolfhound hop—that little bounce they do when the joy just overflows. Giant wolfhound body, zero containment, all pure delight.

For a few perfect minutes, Clover didn’t just walk in the parade. She owned it.

Where Shamrock, her older brother and predecessor, had walked with quiet dignity—tolerant, observant, a little aloof with the crowd—Clover leaned into the moment. Where he carried gravity, she brought light. Where he watched, she connected. Two wolfhounds. Two different kinds of presence. Both extraordinary.

By the time we returned home, the excitement of the day had finally caught up with her. The crowds, the noise, the movement, and the attention had been a great deal to take in, even for a dog who had handled it so beautifully. Her job was done. The parade star curled—or more accurately sprawled—into sleep, her great body finally still. From center stage to deep, satisfied rest.

Clover’s first parade hadn’t just gone well. It had been everything it should be: joyful, confident, and unforgettable.

In that joy—full, present, and shared—there was no trace of bittersweetness. No shadow of what had been lost. There was only the quiet, steady truth of what was right in front of us.

A new chapter.
A new kind of magic.
And a dog who met the world with a smile—and was met with one in return. ☘️💚