Daisy

Daisy came into our lives pre-2000. I was working in NYC, and a guy in the office had a golden retriever that he was going to bring to the shelter because she wasn’t “trainable” and barked a lot (if you’ve ever lived with a goldie, you know they’re slow to mature. She was only 8 months old!).

Upon hearing this, my mom couldn’t bear the thought of that puppy in a shelter where who knows what could happen. I told the guy (let’s call him Ted, because that was his name) that I would be more than happy to take the dog so he didn’t have to bring her to the shelter. Ted gave me instructions to his house on Long Island and on Saturday, D and I ventured over the Throgs’ Neck Bridge to get her.

This was pre-C, obviously. I was driving a beat up Saturn (my first brand new car ever, and learn from my mistake, please) and we were living in Westchester at the time. It was a short ride to Ted’s house, and we got Daisy and brought her to my parents’ house. As a puppy, she was full of energy and lively and jumping all over. My dog, Jamey (also a golden, short for Jameson, yes named for the whiskey) wasn’t happy about this development.

Jamey was older, maybe 8 or 9 at the time. Daisy lived with my parents a couple days when my mom realized that Jamey had stopped eating. Jamey was so upset at the appearance of Daisy that she stopped eating, and was moping around the house. This poor dog (Daisy) needed a home. My brother and sister in law and nieces said they would take her in.

Daisy became part of their family. She slept on my niece’s beds, watched out for them when they got home from school, and comforted them when they cried. Other than being overweight, she had never been really sick in her life.

Until this past weekend, when she couldn’t get up off the floor and had a nosebleed. My poor sister in law had to find an emergency vet who could come look at her. Somehow they got Daisy to the vet where at first things were hopeful. There were tests to run and x-rays taken and medications given and potential therapies to try. My nieces were upset, but hopeful.

Except on Sunday, when the vet went to get Daisy out of her cage, she collapsed and stopped breathing. She was resuscitated, and made comfortable. My brother, sister in law and nieces went to see her Sunday afternoon. She was brought out to them on a stretcher, and she tried to get up to lick their hands and go home with them.

After consulting with the vet, however, my brother was told she couldn’t recover from this. Her blood and platelet counts were dangerously low, and she was bleeding internally. A difficult decision had to be made. The kids and my sister in law kissed her good bye one last time.

Rest in peace, Daisy.