My Two Writing Teachers colleagues and I are hosting the 16th Annual March Slice of Life Story Challenge, in which teachers from around the world participate by posting a story per day.

This year, the SOLSC gives me a chance to record memories of our little dog, Indie, who died in January. I want to write these down while they are still fresh, so that my family and can read them later and remember not only Indie, but little slices of life across the years.

My daughter, Lily, was born in October of 2009, thirteen years ago. New York City was having one of those extended summers, perfect temperatures all the way through September and into October. When I went into the hospital, it was till summer. I was wearing a thin cotton dress. When I walked out of the hospital doors with baby Lily in tow, it was fall—and chilly. I wore my puffy jacket over my summer clothes on the way home.

Lily was only three days old. Our dog, Indie was two years old, and had been staying with our dog sitter (whose name escapes me). She had dropped off just an hour or so earlier, so he could meet Lily for the first time.

We opened the door to the apartment, loaded with a suitcase, diaper bag, and tiny Lily, all bundled up for the temps in her brand new carseat carrier.

Indie scuffled to the door like always. We had trained him to sit instead of jump if he wanted pats, and though he could barely contain himself he sat and got all the love from us and sniffed everything we had set on the floor, taking in every scent.

My memory is a little fuzzy on the exact details of who was holding Indie or the baby carrier, but one of us picked him up and held him up, and one of us set the baby carrier on the couch, so he could see her for the first time. I have a vivid memory of Indie’s fuzzy face seeing tiny, newborn, baby Lily for the first first time. He gently sniffed her carrier, not realizing there was a baby inside, and then his surprise when he saw her squirm. His little nose started to sniff even faster with interest — and that’s the memory I have.

I remember, and can still feel, the feeling of excitement and relief. We were all home, safe, together, and beginning a whole new chapter.