The Daisy

 

One of her favorite toys.

One of her favorite toys.

That time we had to put a peanut in the book so it'd look like she was reading.

That time we had to put a peanut in the book so it’d look like she was reading.

When she used to jump on the couches and wait by the window when we were gone.

When she used to jump on the couches and wait by the window when we were gone.

One random Thursday in early 2002, we welcomed Daisy into our family. After what seemed like years of putting a puppy on our wishlist, my sister and I finally had a dog to call our own. A child of divorce, Daisy was in need of a new home. So after we saw her ad in the Pennysaver, we drove out and picked her up. And she was clearly the most beautiful dog on the block. She was our family’s little girl.

Being the ignorant little shit that I was, I never really properly raised her. We gave her too much affection, as kids do. She loved my dad, she respected my mom, and to an extent, I think she did love me and my sister. She put up with a lot.

I love how she had a favorite pillow. I love how she would lift her leg up so we could pet her belly. I love how she was a grade-A bitch and gave no fucks about biting kids. I love how she got all happy after we gave her a bath because it was over. I love how she’d look like a puppy after we shaved her. I love how she would grab her toys and squeak them. I love how she would push her bowls around to let us know she needed a refill. I love the way her nose looked. I love how she would wait at the dinner table for scraps.

Today, my mom finally took her in to be put to rest. I didn’t know she was going, and my initial reaction was non-existent. But now, as I sit here typing this, a flood of emotions run through me.

If you’ve heard the story, you know that I joked about how old she was and how we were all just waiting for her to die. You’d know that I thought she’d die when I went to college. I was really prepared for her to die. Yet, every time I thought about it, it was the one thing that was guaranteed to bring tears to my eyes. Sometimes, I would just bawl at the mere possibility of it.

Towards the end of her life, she never seemed like she was in pain, she was just senile. But perhaps, we waited too long. Perhaps she was suffering and I was too selfish to let her go. I don’t know.

She was one of my oldest friends. She will be missed, but I rest easy knowing that she’s at peace now.

And even though this song is not about a dog, just hearing her name while I was listening to Zedd’s new album today broke my heart all over again.

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~ by Btab on 18 May 2015.

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