Ten years ago, on St. Patrick’s Day, my mother-in-law called my husband and I to tell us
her dog had had a litter of puppies.
The mama dog’s name was Biscuit, and there were two important facts about Biscuit that are important to this story: She had long, curly hair that hid her pregnant belly really well, and when she was adopted the previous owners said Biscuit had been spayed…so this was a very unexpected litter of pups.
A few days later we visited the MIL’s house to look at the new babes and I instantly fell in love with one of them.
And it wasn’t Daisy.
Daisy was the runt of the litter, and while she was cute, she wasn’t the one I wanted to begin with. I wanted the biggest pup in the litter. She was like a miniature version of a chocolate lab, and I was still grieving the fact my parents had re-homed the chocolate lab we’d had since I was a kid. (After my brother and I moved out, my parents downsized.)
So, we waited the six weeks to go back and get the brown fur ball and the puppies were all crawling around and exploring and generally the cutest things you’ve ever seen, of course. We sat on the couch with our new little dog and fawned all over her, but while we did this little runt of a thing worked very hard to get my attention and she crawled all over me and gave me kisses on my chin and yawned and fell asleep on my chest, and completely won my heart.
So, we went home with two puppies that day.
It took us a while to name both of them. It wasn’t until we went to go buy them each collars that inspiration came for Daisy’s name. She was so tiny there wasn’t a single puppy collar that fit her. We had to buy her a collar meant for a kitten, and I chose one with a daisy pendant on it.
It was still sort of big for her.
In the interest of brevity, I’ll skip ahead to when my niece and nephew (very little at the
time) visited. If memory serves me correctly their dad had just gotten word he would be doing a stint in Afghanistan (might’ve been Iraq, I can’t remember which came first), and they were both trying to be very brave about it. They wanted one of our pups, and they fell in love with the dog I had first fallen in love with—who, funnily enough, had started as the largest puppy in the litter and turned out to be the tiniest after they grew up!
That puppy is still in the excellent care of my now grown niece and nephew, and her name is Penny. All of the puppies in that litter were given names beginning with P, except for Daisy. What can I say, we’re rebels.
Anywho, Daisy has seen me through some really troubling times: miscarriages, nearly losing my father on multiple occasions, a few relocations, and the death of one of my nephews. She sticks with me when I’m sick, dotes on me when I have a migraine, and somehow she always knows if my back hurts and that’s where she curls up next to me to act as a natural heating pad.
Ten Fun (I think, anyway) Facts About Daisy:
• She has a plethora of nicknames, and she answers to all of them. Some of my fave are:
• While her favorite treat has always been cheese, a close second is watermelon.
• She and my father have a very special bond, too. If I ask her if she wants to go see her Papa, I’d damn well better take her.
• She grew up with a cat, therefore she loves cats. She doesn’t understand when they don’t love her back.
• When she was very little she had two squeak toys, a rhinoceros and a hippopotamus, and she knew which was which and would bring whichever you asked her for.
• She gets up with me at 4:30 every morning and sits in my lap while I drink my coffee. Then she goes back to bed when I leave for work.
• She’s super protective of my husband’s feet.
• She gets jealous when my husband and I hug each other, so we sometimes put her between us for a “Doodle Sandwich.”
• Like most dogs, she loved to wrestle in her more spry years. But even when she was
young and rowdy, if you said, “Okay, it’s time for love now,” she would instantly stop rough-housing and go back to being sweet.
• Daisy loves confined spaces. When she was a puppy we had her on such a sleep/crate schedule that if we were late going to bed, she would get in her crate by herself and stay there all night. Now she doesn’t have a crate, but she will sneak off and sleep in the linen closet almost daily. She loves it so much, we have to leave the door open for her.
Yes, she’s spoiled. Yes, she’ll get presents and a special dinner for her birthday…and yes, I am aware she is a dog.
Anyway, I hope you’ve enjoyed getting to know my canine-kid. Have a great weekend and Happy St. Patrick’s Day.
PSA: Don’t drink and drive. Call a cab, call an Uber, or have a designated driver.
Until Monday, my lovelies! xoxoxo