Friday, May 31, 2019

Such a Good Dog



My head is sticking out the window, as far as I can get it, as far as they will let me.
My fur is blowing and my eyes are squinting in the wind.
My tongue is hanging out of my mouth 
and my nose is in overdrive.

There is so much to smell.
It seems like there is everything in the world to smell.

I love it when my people take me for a ride in the car. 
This might be the best day of my life.

I am the happiest I have ever been.  Well,  since the last time I went for a ride in the car.  I was the happiest I have ever been then, too.  And, also, the time before that was good.  So good.

I am so happy.

Going for a ride.








She was such a good dog.






















She was smarter than all of us.
She was kinder than all of us.
She was selfless and full of joy.
She was the embodiment of
all that is good in this world.

Every single day of her life,
she was all of those things.




Daisy wasn't our dog.
She was the next door neighbors' dog.



She was part Australian Shepard and part Husky. But every time you took her on a walk, someone would always ask, "Is that a wolf?"  She was born on a farm with one brown eye and one blue eye.  The blue eye later changed to brown with a blue patch. After her birth, the farmer separated her from her mother with an electric fence. A kind neighbor, upset with what she saw, took her in and bottle fed her until she was old enough to be adopted.  Throughout her life, she struggled with being separated from those she loved. She needed companionship. She needed her people.



The first time we met her they told us she "liked to jump".  Daisy did jump and leap and try to hug me. She was not a small or hesitant dog.  I had to brace myself to keep standing upright. She knew what she wanted: the love.   And I held my own because I too wanted: the love.  My acquiescence was the cue for her to lick me wherever she could and attempt a final stealth, "EVEN THOUGH I JUST MET YOU I ALREADY LOVE YOU SO MUCH NEIGHBOR LADY" tackle.




Daisy and I soon settled in to our own routine.  She loved to visit at our common neighbor fence. Many times I'd call for her when I went out into my backyard.  I'd hear the jingle of her collar as she rushed to the fence that separated us.  I would weed on my side; she would follow me on her side. If I moved 2 feet,  Daisy moved 2 feet.  If I poked my finger through the fence boards, she licked my finger.  If I asked Daisy a question, she nosed a board of the fence so that I knew she heard me. I knew and she knew.......we were having a conversation. She knew all of my secrets.


My son Drew started taking Daisy for walks when he was just out of elementary school and continued until he left for college.  Sometimes, before their walks, Drew would bring Daisy over to say hello.  She would walk into our home like it was her own and always greeted everyone there, including the cats.  They had become friends with Daisy and were worthy of a good face lick. She drank the cats' water, licked the remains of their food bowls and then sniffed and sniffed and sniffed as much of the house as she could before Drew urged her to leave for their walk.

I was initially worried that Daisy was too energetic for Drew to handle.  But Daisy knew how to handle such a kid.  When Drew was inexperienced, Daisy taught him how to walk. When Drew was more experienced, Daisy insisted they run. And boy, could she run and run and run. She'd chase down a ball and bring it back to you--for hours- if you could last that long.  For years, they walked and ran and chased balls in our neighborhood and the neighborhoods, trails, abandoned golf courses and construction sites near us. They spent a lot of time together.  She became more than the "neighbor" dog. She was his Daisy.

Drew had many encounters over the years including one with a yippy, yappy, annoying dog that approached him and Daisy.  The tiny dog nipped at Daisy's feet. The tiny dog was in full tiny dog attack mode, running endless, empty threat circles around Daisy.   Daisy was amused with the yipping and yapping and "barking".  Daisy cocked her head side to side and assessed the threat.  According to Drew, Daisy then slowly rolled her eyeballs and ever so casually and gently, sat down on that tiny dog.  Daisy didn't hurt the dog but Drew remembers a very satisfying but muffled ymmmph sound........And Drew remembers Daisy grinning, tongue hanging out, looking up for his approval.

Daisy and Drew had the opposite problem on another walk a few years ago. They were aggressively charged from a forceful, growling, large dog on the other side of a fence. The weak fence shook and the weakest two boards swung open.  The dog's drooling head threateningly poked through. The big dog behind the fence repeatedly charged and butted the fence.  Daisy went into action.  She immediately rushed forward and put herself between Drew and the scary dog. Daisy leaned against Drew, pushing him back with her full weight and growled back at the drooling dog trying to attack. Daisy's first thought was to protect my son.

It was the first time ever that Drew had heard Daisy growl.

When Drew got home he recounted the story.

"That dog would have saved my life if she had to."







She was such a good dog.



But she wasn't our dog.
She lived next door.
She had a wonderful family who loved her as much as she deserved to be loved. She had a lifetime of memories with her own family.

But gosh, we loved that dog too.









Daisy was 13 years old when we last saw her.
We were greeted by our friend.
We were greeted with a doggie grin.
We were greeted with a lick and a nudge.
We were greeted by all that is good in this world.



Our Daisy.






















Even at the end when she had a bit of a limp,

Even at the end when.....



Even then.....








She was such a good dog.








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