The Queen's Last Corgi Is Dead, Long Live Her Dorgis

The queen’s corgis walk past Barack Obama’s limo in 2009, so this picture is DOUBLE destroying me.
The queen’s corgis walk past Barack Obama’s limo in 2009, so this picture is DOUBLE destroying me.
Image: via Getty.

Queen Elizabeth’s last corgi has died. RIP Willow and also my emotions.

The Guardian reported that 14-year-old Willow has been put down, due to complications from cancer. According to a report from 2015, Queen Elizabeth quit breeding the dogs in 2015, because there were concerns about the safety of their being underfoot and also she didn’t want to leave any behind when she died, a fact that continues to upset me every time I read it. Her second-to-last, Holly, died in 2016. Fuck me up, The Daily Mail:

Insiders say the Queen has been hit ‘extremely hard’ by the loss of Willow who had become her most devoted companion, accompanying her as she moved between her four royal homes.

‘She has mourned every one of her corgis over the years, but she has been more upset about Willow’s death than any of them,’ says a Buckingham Palace source. ‘It is probably because Willow was the last link to her parents and a pastime that goes back to her own childhood. It really does feel like the end of an era.’


“Willow was the 14th generation descended from Susan, a gift to the then Princess Elizabeth on her 18th birthday,” the Mail explained. Willow was buried on the grounds at Windsor and will eventually get a headstone memorializing “a faithful companion of the Queen.” I’m FINE, okay? I’m definitely fine.

The good news is that the Queen retains some faithful canine company in the form of her “dorgis,” Vulcan and Candy, who are half dachshund, half corgi. Commemorate Willow by enjoying his starring turn in the opening ceremony of the London Olympics, alongside fellow corgis Monty and Holly and some dude named Daniel.

Senior Editor, Attic Haunter, Jezebel


Mortal Dictata

It’s sad but a smart decision on her part. My older relatives (who are in their 80s now) keep getting puppies (they’re currently on a Dachshund they’ve managed to already get overweight) and I’m just “who the fuck’s going to look after it when you’re gone” and they just presume one of their kids will look after it of which knowing them there’s fat fucking chance of that.

Instead it’ll just end up at a rescue home no doubt.