In Memory of Daisy

Well I guess I jinxed myself again. Not even a week ago I blogged about how I hoped I wouldn't have to send this card to anyone, anytime soon. As I type it's sitting atop a basket of muffins and cookies for my neighbor, Jack. He's in his late 70's, maybe even early 80's and he lives up the street. His best friend in the world was his dog Daisy, a 7 yr old yellow lab. Daisy was ALL woman. She was one of Wrigley's many girlfriends and he would get soooo excited when he'd see her. She would keep him in line, and play it very cool, sometimes even turning her back and walking away from him, but her tail wag always gave her away. She was in love with Wrigs which kept him coming back for more.

Jack and I met soon after we moved into this house. I was sitting outside the coffee shop up the street where he and Daisy had their daily breakfast. Yes, she was spoiled. Wrigs was just a little fuzzy puppy and was climbing all over the ever patient Daisy. She would look up at her Daddy with these big brown eyes that pleaded, "Help me?" But she was so sweet and mild mannered and just let Wrigs have his way occasionally giving him a few scoots with her snout. A few weeks later while Tom and I were walking Wrigs in the neighborhood we spotted Jack and Daisy just a few houses away, working on his boat. Of course Wrigs hopped and jumped all over Daisy and I introduced Tom to my new friends and told Jack we were neighbors.

Throughout this past year we'd stop and chat whenever we'd go for our walks, sometimes for quite a while. There was always something to talk about, especially when the two love sick puppies were fumbling all over each other. Wrigley, now full grown (I hope!) and a little less puppy-ish seemed to behave more gentleman-like around Daisy. And boy she sure loved it. She would now come running towards him as we approached the house and Daisy was not the fastest or fittest dog. It was really cute to watch their relationship blossom. Wrigs always had to stop at her house on our walks. You know that song, that goes something like, "I've got a gal in every port", well Wrigs has a lady on every corner. He's quite the Don Juan in the canine community. He's kind of a big deal around here. (quote from the movie Anchorman).

Sadly there is one less lady for him to love. I hadn't seen Daisy outside with Jack for a couple weeks now. I had a feeling something was wrong because the last time I saw her she had lost quite a bit of weight and Jack had said she's just not eating that much and thought maybe it was due to the heat. Then yesterday on my walk (without Wrigs) I saw him in the garage vacuuming up the back of his SUV. That's when I knew it wasn't good. I just couldn't bring myself to ask so I kept walking. Then this morning I saw him outside again so I stopped and said, "Hi Jack, I'm scared to ask, how's everything?" and before he could even answer I felt the tears. He said that Daisy was diagnosed with leukemia shortly after she started to lose her appetite. The doctor said her white blood cell count was over 300,000 and I guess the normal is between 600-800. There was nothing they could do. She wasn't sleeping through the night and was constantly getting up shifting positions. She had some spots on her lungs too which made her breathing difficult. The only thing that seemed to comfort her was laying in the jacuzzi so that is where she spent the majority of her final days. He would sit there with her, just loving her up as much as he could.

He said the day he had to put her to sleep was the most difficult thing he's ever had to do. He said he was grateful that he got to be there with her, holding her, kissing her and telling her how much he loved her. Hearing this man speak of his love for his dog and his feelings of such loss pierced my heart. He truly lost his best friend. He said that when he takes his boat out he looks around for her, because she was always with him, and sometimes he forgets she's not there. I patted his arm and said, "She's still there with you. You just can't see her." He looked down at the ground for a bit and then said, "You think so?" and through my tears I smiled and just nodded my head. He smiled and nodded too, and then we said our goodbyes. I looked back and caught a glimpse of him wiping his eyes and I cried the rest of the way home.

Once inside I clung to Wrigley and sobbed in his fur for a good minute or two and then he started licking my tears. I blurted out, "DAMN IT DOGS!! Why must you be so CUTE and SWEET and LOVING and MAKE US LOVE YOU SO DAMN MUCH!?!?!" Wrigley looked at me like, "What did I do wrong?" and I just kissed his snout and cuddled his head. All I know is that the more you love, the more it's going to hurt.

I'm off to deliver my goodie basket and card.