What Breed Is Lily In 'Lily And The Octopus'?

Lily in 'Lily and the Octopus' is a dachshund, and her breed plays a huge role in the story. Dachshunds are known for their long bodies and short legs, which makes them both adorable and prone to back problems. The book captures Lily's playful, stubborn personality perfectly—traits common in dachshunds. Her breed's quirks amplify the emotional stakes when she faces health issues. The author doesn't just mention her breed casually; it shapes her behavior, from her burrowing instincts to her fierce loyalty. If you love dogs, this book hits harder because it nails the dachshund spirit: courageous, quirky, and full of heart.

As someone who's read 'Lily and the Octopus' multiple times, I can confirm Lily is a dachshund, but the story digs deeper than her breed. Dachshunds were originally bred for hunting badgers, and that tenacity shines through Lily's character. She's relentless when chasing her toy octopus, mirroring her breed's historical purpose.

The book uses her physical traits symbolically too. Her elongated spine becomes a metaphor for vulnerability, while her short legs represent the unexpected hurdles in life. The octopus metaphor gains layers when you consider dachshunds' susceptibility to spinal issues—it's not just a tumor but a predator her body wasn't built to fight.

What's brilliant is how the author contrasts Lily's small size with her enormous personality. Dachshunds often think they're giant guard dogs, and Lily's fierce protectiveness of her owner reflects that. The breed's trademark stubbornness also drives key plot points, like her refusal to drop the octopus toy. If you want to understand dachshunds, this book is a masterclass in capturing their essence.

Lily's a dachshund in 'Lily and the Octopus,' but the story makes her breed feel alive beyond labels. Dachshunds are clingy, and Lily's separation anxiety mirrors real-world traits—they bond intensely with owners. Her burrowing under blankets isn't just cute; it's instinctual. Dachshunds were bred to tunnel, and that behavior becomes poignant when she hides from pain.

The book cleverly uses breed-specific humor too. Lily's obsession with food? Classic dachshund gluttony. Her dramatic reactions to baths? Textbook. Even her skepticism toward other dogs fits the breed's reputation for being picky about companions.

What stands out is how her physical limitations heighten the emotional impact. Dachshunds aren't built for swimming, so when the octopus drags her into metaphorical depths, it feels doubly terrifying. The breed isn't just a detail; it's the backbone of her character arc.