Newly-unveiled statue of Queen Elizabeth II includes her beloved pet Corgis

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.

Please tell this tale! ❤️

My Boyfriend Ended Our Relationship and Gave Me an Invoice for All He ‘Spent on Me’

When Kyra discovers, by accident, that her boyfriend, Henry, has been cheating on her, she goes completely numb. Until he sends her an invoice for everything that he had ever spent on her. Fueled by her anger, Kyra fights back, exposing Henry for who he is and asking for her monetary rewards in return.

We’ve all heard of crazy boyfriend or ex-boyfriend stories—I mean, when I was in college, it was a common sleepover story.

I’ve heard of the boyfriend who wanted to taste everything his girlfriend ate—before she did. And an ex-boyfriend who demanded that his ex-girlfriend help him study for finals because it was her fault that he wasn’t able to concentrate.

But I didn’t expect my relationship to turn into one of those stories.

I had been dating Henry for two years. We had met in college at a party and after a night of drunken conversation over fries, we ended up dating.

Our relationship wasn’t perfect—in fact, over the course of it, we had broken up three times.

“Come on, Kyra,” Henry said. “We either get back together or we break up for good.”

It was the defining moment in our relationship because Henry was the one who wanted to call the shots. He wanted us to stay together, and I wanted us to call it a day.

Over the years, Henry and I had gotten into enough fights, motivating me to turn to therapy to help me cope with the stress of it.

“And yet,” my friend Brent said, “you still remain with him.”

It was just another ordinary Friday evening and Henry had come over to my place. We were going to eat pizza and watch series until we fell asleep.

A few hours into the evening, Henry had fallen asleep on the couch and I casually reached over to grab his phone to check the time.

But I was completely unprepared for everything that followed.

Just as I picked up Henry’s phone, his screen lit up with a text message from another girl.

Hey, babe! See you later or are we meeting tomorrow?

“Hey, who’s this?” I asked, nudging him awake and handing him the phone with a puzzled look.

Henry snatched the phone from my hand in a fury, his face clouding over.

“Kyra, why are you reading my messages?” he snapped, his tone defensive.

“I was just looking for the time,” I stammered. “My phone is on charge in the kitchen. I wasn’t snooping or anything.”

Henry stood up, took a swig of his now room-temperature beer, and paced around my living room.

“This is my private stuff, Kyra,” he accused. “You shouldn’t be looking at all.”

Before I could process what was happening, Henry began putting his shoes on, and then he made a final decision about our relationship.

“I think we’re done here. I can’t trust you anymore!”

And with that, he left my apartment.

Stunned, I watched him leave. We were over in the blink of an eye after two years.

I couldn’t understand if I felt relief or devastation. I would miss Henry, of course, but at the same time—I didn’t think that this was the worst thing.

Henry had been emotionally manipulating me for a long time, but I had felt a familiarity with him. And that had made it easier to stay with him.

It was the comfort of being with a familiar person, despite the heartache that came with them.

I could hear my mother’s words loud in my head.

“Kyra,” she would say, “You’re too smart to be playing a game like this. Let go of the dead weight. Henry has been nothing but dead weight since your first big fight.”

And she would be correct.

I decided to take a shower, I needed to lull my body into a sense of relaxation so that I could just let go and sleep.

And then it truly dawned on me—the reason for the breakup now was because I had caught Henry cheating on me. At first, I was too stunned. I was stunned by the fact that he had walked out on me.

But I finally managed to realize that he had actually been dating another woman. And had no idea how long it had been going on for.

The thought was too much for me to comprehend. I had so many questions running through my mind—how long had Henry been cheating on me? Who was the other person? What would have happened if I hadn’t found out?

The next few days were a complete blur—I felt a sense of relief knowing that I was untied to Henry. But at the same time, I felt hollow and a bit raw.

I found myself crying—not for Henry, but for myself. And through it all, I couldn’t understand why I was so upset.

While making a cup of tea, an email pinged on my laptop, signaling me to my desk.

It was from Henry.

Hoping for an apology, I opened it immediately—only to find a detailed bill listing every single expense that Henry claimed to have incurred on my behalf over the duration of our relationship.

Kyra, please make the payment soon. I need to move on, and you need to make things right with me. I cannot believe I wasted so much time and money on you.

I saw red—a hazy fury took over my sight. My head pounded, and my heart was ready to burst with the flood of feelings that were unleashed by Henry’s email.

“This is insane!” I screamed at the screen.

I shut off my laptop and made myself some soup. Henry and his delusional state of mind could wait. I wasn’t going to pay anything back. I was done with him.

As I cut up some garlic bread, I had an idea.

My friend, Brent, who hated Henry—was a lawyer and he loved a challenge.

“Hey, it’s me,” I said, calling him while I waited for the soup to get ready. “I’ve got a bit of a situation with Henry, and I think I need to hit back with something clever.”

Brent was intrigued. He chuckled and asked me to explain.

“Tell me everything, Kyra,” he said.

The next day, I met Brent at a coffee shop, where we planned on thinking up the next step where I could get back at Henry.

Brent ordered us coffee and pastries, while I pulled up the email from Henry.

As we laid out his claims against my emotional tolls—the late-night anxiety, the therapy costs—he burst out laughing.

“This is actually genius. Let’s draft up a counter-invoice.”

Our response was meticulously calculated, and I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction sending it back to him.

This inspired me to start a blog about my journey of recovery and empowerment. To my surprise, the blog resonated with many, and soon, a publisher reached out with an interest in turning my experiences into a book.

On the other hand, Henry’s pursuit for repayment dwindled, especially once he realized the potential public fallout and legal ramifications.

“I cannot believe that you did that, Kyra,” Henry said. “People are messaging me constantly now. Why would you embarrass me like that? Why would you post the invoice I sent you? You owe me!”

I sat in front of the TV and let Henry vent on speaker.

I had absolutely no intention of explaining myself. My blog did expose him—and sure, I did post the invoice. But it was my way of healing through the entire ordeal.

But as always, Henry had to make it about himself. He commented on some of the blog posts, stating that I was yet to pay him for everything.

In reply, other readers let him have it—calling him out on his selfishness.

When Brent came over for dinner, he sat down and chuckled.

“Looks like Henry got the message,” Brent said. “He has dropped all demands. It seems like he just didn’t want to risk any further exposure.”

In the end, not only did I manage to counter his pettiness with strength, but I also carved out a new path for myself.

This wasn’t just about a breakup recovery—it was a rebirth.

What would you have done?

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