A great deal of people felt sorrow upon Queen Elizabeth II’s passing in 2022. She was adored by the public and the longest-reigning monarch in British history, having ruled for 70 years.
The late queen is now being honored with a monument that was recently unveiled, honoring her affection for her pet corgis!
The Queen’s new statue, together with her dogs
On Sunday, a 7-foot-tall bronze statue of Queen Elizabeth was unveiled in observance of the monarch’s 98th birthday.

In Oakham, England, the sculpture was made by artist Hywel Pratley and is situated close to the Oakham Library. It is Queen Elizabeth’s first ever permanent memorial.
Rutland City Council said that hundreds attended the unveiling. There was music from local school bands and bagpipers.
The most priceless feature of this new memorial is that the queen’s cherished Corgis pet is also depicted, immortalized in bronze by the monarch’s feet:

The city authority claims that local schoolchildren created the designs for the Corgi monuments.
In contrast to the many stern and imposing monuments of queens like Queen Victoria, Pratley stated he wanted the statue to portray the idea of Queen Elizabeth as “an almost motherly figure,” according to the New York Times.
During the unveiling, local dignitary Sarah Furness remarked, “What most of us remember about Queen Elizabeth is her warmth.” “We demonstrate Queen Elizabeth’s humanity by showcasing her affection for dogs.”

The statue’s creator claims that he intended it to be hospitable to onlookers. Pratley said, “We designed it with a bench you can sit on.” “And there’s a corgi you can pet, and I do believe that this will eventually become a selfie-encouraging statue.”
The Times reports that a number of Corgi owners brought their dogs to the unveiling, indicating that a large number of people have already visited the statue.
The history of Queen Elizabeth’s Corgis pet
For many years, the Queen’s corgis were an iconic aspect of her life and a solace during tough political and personal times. Fans all throughout the world were likewise pleased by the cute pets.
The first Corgi was acquired by the royal family in 1933 when Dookie, a dog owned by Elizabeth’s father and predecessor George VI (who was then the Duke of York), was brought home.

Dookie was reportedly extremely cantankerous, yet Elizabeth and him appeared to have a unique relationship.
Then, on her eighteenth birthday, the Queen received a Pembroke Welsh corgi of her own, named Susan.
Susan reportedly slipped under a rug in the royal carriage to disrupt the wedding of the Queen and her husband, Prince Philip, according to the BBC.
1959 saw Susan’s death at the age of almost fifteen. Her epitaph referred to her as “the faithful companion of the Queen,” and she was laid to rest at the royal estate of Sandringham House.
The Queen stated, “I had always feared losing her, but I am ever so thankful that her suffering was so mercifully brief.”
But Susan left quite the legacy; during the ensuing few decades, the Queen accumulated over thirty corgis, all descended from her original canine companion.
The Queen always had at least one corgi, and often had several at once, from 1933 until 2018. She traveled with the dogs in tow, and they resided in a designated “Corgi room” at Buckingham Palace with wicker beds. It is said that the Queen took care of them personally and baked them biscuits over the holiday season.

These canines undoubtedly received royal treatment and grew to represent the Queen throughout her life.
While Elizabeth valued the dogs greatly, Prince Philip apparently didn’t feel the same way. Like many others, she took great solace from the dogs, who served as a link to the simpler times in her early years due to their relationship with her late father and her upbringing.
According to Penny Junor, a royal biographer, “her corgis are hugely important to her.” Over time, they have become more intimate with her than any human has ever been. She has never been let down by the incredibly affectionate and devoted corgis.

It also makes sense that the Queen, who represents both Britain and the United Kingdom, would have a strong bond with a quintessential British dog. Wales, a member of the UK and a neighbor of England, is where corgis first originated. When corgis were adopted as royal dogs, the breed was rare in England; yet, the Queen had a major role in the globalization of the breed.
The Queen owned several “dorgis,” or corgis bred with daschshunds, in addition to purebred Pembroke Welsh Corgis.
When the corgis and dorgis appeared alongside Queen Elizabeth on the cover of Vanity Fair in 2016, they became well-known worldwide because to Annie Leibovitz’s photography. At the time, the dogs were Candy, Vulcan, Willow, and Holly.
A notable aspect of Queen Elizabeth’s reign and a significant aspect of her life were her corgis. Their inclusion in this first memorial statue of her seems so fitting.
I Went to Pick Up My Wife and Newborn Twins from the Hospital — I Found Only the Babies and a Note

When I arrived at the hospital to bring home my wife and newborn twins, I was met with heartbreak: Suzie was gone, leaving only a cryptic note. As I juggled caring for the babies and unraveling the truth, I discovered the dark secrets that tore my family apart.
As I drove to the hospital, the balloons bobbed beside me in the passenger seat. My smile was unstoppable. Today, I was bringing home my girls!

A man driving a car | Source: Midjourney
I couldn’t wait to see Suzie’s face light up when she saw the nursery, the dinner I’d cooked, the photos I’d framed for the mantle. She deserved joy after nine long months of back pain, morning sickness, and an endless carousel of my overbearing mother’s opinions.
It was the culmination of every dream I’d had for us.
I waved to the nurses at the station as I hurried to Suzie’s room. But when I pushed through the door, I froze in surprise.

A man holding balloons | Source: Midjourney
My daughters were sleeping in their bassinets, but Suzie was gone. I thought she might have stepped out for fresh air, but then I saw the note. I tore it open, my hands trembling.
“Goodbye. Take care of them. Ask your mother WHY she did this to me.”
The world blurred as I reread it. And reread it. The words didn’t shift, didn’t morph into something less terrible. A coldness prickled along my skin, freezing me in place.

A man reading a note | Source: Midjourney
What the hell did she mean? Why would she… no. This couldn’t be happening. Suzie was happy. She’d been happy. Hadn’t she?
A nurse carrying a clipboard entered the room. “Good morning, sir, here’s the discharge —”
“Where’s my wife?” I interrupted.
The nurse hesitated, biting her lip. “She checked out this morning. She said you knew.”

A nurse holding a clipboard | Source: Pexels
“She — where did she go?” I stammered to the nurse, waving the note. “Did she say anything else? Was she upset?”
The nurse frowned. “She seemed fine. Just… quiet. Are you saying you didn’t know?”
I shook my head. “She said nothing… just left me this note.”
I left the hospital in a daze, cradling my daughters, the note crumpled in my fist.

A worried man leaving a hospital | Source: Midjourney
Suzie was gone. My wife, my partner, the woman I’d thought I knew, had vanished without a word of warning. All I had were two tiny girls, my shattered plans, and that ominous message.
When I pulled into the driveway, my mom, Mandy, was waiting on the porch, beaming and holding a casserole dish. The scent of cheesy potatoes wafted toward me, but it did nothing to soothe the storm brewing inside.
“Oh, let me see my grandbabies!” she exclaimed, setting the dish aside and rushing toward me. “They’re beautiful, Ben, absolutely beautiful.”

An excited woman | Source: Midjourney
I stepped back, holding the car seat protectively. “Not yet, Mom.”
Her face faltered, confusion knitting her brow. “What’s wrong?”
I shoved the note in her direction. “This is what’s wrong! What did you do to Suzie?”
Her smile vanished, and she took the note with shaking fingers. Her pale blue eyes scanned the words, and for a moment, she looked like she might faint.

A woman reading a note | Source: Midjourney
“Ben, I don’t know what this is about,” Mom replied. “She’s… she’s always been emotional. Maybe she —”
“Don’t lie to me!” The words erupted, my voice echoing off the porch walls. “You’ve never liked her. You’ve always found ways to undermine her, criticize her —”
“I’ve only ever tried to help!” Her voice broke, tears spilling over her cheeks.
I turned away, my gut churning. I couldn’t trust her words anymore. Whatever had happened between them had driven Suzie to leave. And now I was left to pick up the pieces.

A man carrying twin babies into a house | Source: Midjourney
That night, after settling Callie and Jessica in their cribs, I sat at the kitchen table with the note in one hand and a whiskey in the other. My mother’s protests rang in my ears, but I couldn’t let them drown out the question looping in my mind: What did you do, Mom?
I thought back to our family gatherings, and the small barbs my mother would throw Suzie’s way. Suzie had laughed them off, but I could see now, too late, how they must have cut her.
I started digging, both literally and metaphorically.

A man searching through a closet | Source: Midjourney
My sorrow and longing for my missing wife deepened as I looked through her things. I found her jewelry box in the closet and set it aside, then noticed a slip of paper peeking out beneath the lid.
When I opened it, I found a letter to Suzie in my mother’s handwriting. My heart pounded as I read:
“Suzie, you’ll never be good enough for my son. You’ve trapped him with this pregnancy, but don’t think for a second you can fool me. If you care about them, you’ll leave before you ruin their lives.”

A man reading a letter | Source: Midjourney
My hand shook as I dropped the letter. This was it. This was why she’d left. My mother had been tearing her down behind my back. I replayed every interaction, every moment I’d dismissed as harmless. How blind had I been?
It was almost midnight, but I didn’t care. I went to the guest room and banged on the door until Mom opened it.
“How could you?” I waved the letter in her face. “All this time, I thought you were just being overbearing, but no, you’ve been bullying Suzie for years, haven’t you?”

An angry man holding a letter | Source: Midjourney
Her face paled as she scanned the letter. “Ben, listen to me —”
“No!” I cut her off. “You listen to me. Suzie left because of you. Because you made her feel worthless. And now she’s gone, and I’m here trying to raise two babies on my own.”
“I only wanted to protect you,” she whispered. “She wasn’t good enough —”
“She’s the mother of my children! You don’t get to decide who’s good enough for me or them. You’re done here, Mom. Pack your things. Get out.”

A man pointing | Source: Midjourney
Her tears fell freely now. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do,” I said, cold as steel.
She opened her mouth to argue, but stopped. The look in my eyes must have told her I wasn’t bluffing. She left an hour later, her car disappearing down the street.
The next weeks were hell.

A man with his head in his hands | Source: Midjourney
Between sleepless nights, dirty diapers, and endless crying (sometimes the babies, sometimes me) I barely had time to think.
But every quiet moment brought Suzie back to my mind. I contacted her friends and family, hoping for any hint of where she might be. None of them had heard from her. But one, her college friend Sara, hesitated before speaking.
“She talked about feeling… trapped,” Sara admitted over the phone. “Not by you, Ben, but by everything. The pregnancy, your mom. She told me once that Mandy said the twins would be better off without her.”

A man speaking on his phone | Source: Midjourney
The knife twisted deeper. “Why didn’t she tell me my mom was saying these things to her?”
“She was scared, Ben. She thought Mandy might turn you against her. I told her to talk to you, but…” Sara’s voice cracked. “I’m sorry. I should’ve pushed harder.”
“Do you think she’s okay?”
“I hope so,” Sara said quietly. “Suzie’s stronger than she thinks. But Ben… keep looking for her.”
Weeks turned into months.

A man rocking a baby | Source: Midjourney
One afternoon, while Callie and Jessica napped, my phone buzzed. It was a text from an unlisted number.
When I opened it, my breath caught. It was a photo of Suzie, holding the twins at the hospital, her face pale but serene. Beneath it was a message:
“I wish I was the type of mother they deserve. I hope you forgive me.”
I called the number immediately, but it didn’t go through.

A man making a phone call | Source: Midjourney
I texted back, but my messages didn’t go through either. It was like shouting into a void. But the photo reignited my determination. Suzie was out there. She was alive and at least a part of her still longed for us, even though she was clearly still in a bad place. I’d never give up on her.
A year passed with no leads or clues to Suzie’s whereabouts. The twins’ first birthday was bittersweet. I’d poured everything into raising them, but the ache for Suzie never left.
That evening, as the girls played in the living room, there was a knock at the door.

A home entrance interior | Source: Pexels
I thought I was dreaming at first. Suzie stood there, clutching a small gift bag, her eyes brimming with tears. She looked healthier, her cheeks were fuller, and her posture was more confident. But the sadness was still there, hovering behind her smile.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
I didn’t think. I pulled her into my arms, holding her as tightly as I dared. She sobbed into my shoulder, and for the first time in a year, I felt whole.

A man hugging a woman | Source: Midjourney
Over the following weeks, Suzie told me how the postpartum depression, my mom’s cruel words, and her feelings of inadequacy had overwhelmed her.
She’d left to protect the twins and to escape the spiral of self-loathing and despair. Therapy had helped her rebuild, one painstaking step at a time.
“I didn’t want to leave,” she said one night, sitting on the nursery floor as the girls slept. “But I didn’t know how to stay.”

A woman sitting on a nursery floor | Source: Midjourney
I took her hand. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”
And we did. It wasn’t easy — healing never is. But love, resilience, and the shared joy of watching Callie and Jessica grow were enough to rebuild what we’d almost lost.
Here’s another story: Thirteen years ago, I adopted my late husband’s secret twin daughters after his fatal car crash revealed his double life. I gave them everything, but at sixteen, they locked me out of my home. One week later, I discovered the shocking reason for their actions. Click here to keep reading.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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