I have often said that if I were a dog, I'd be a lot like Daisy--or, at the very least, that we'd be best friends. Thoroughly idiosyncratic, a little bit awkward (what other dog has such bad rhythm and coordination that it can't catch a bouncing ball?), a touch mischevious, but thoroughly proud--she was an endearing gem of a dog.
She had been showing her age in the last few years, but I found out yesterday that a large tumor in her abdomen will bring about the end sooner than any of us expected. My family will be putting her down tomorrow. So today my sister is pampering her: one last day to trot stolen socks to her under-the-table lair, eat ice cubes off the floor, and sleep at the end of my sister's bed. Tomorrow morning, my family will go together to the vet.
My little sister and I shared a rather tear-filled phone call this afternoon about it today. I haven't had to say goodbye to a pet since our dog Noel died when I was 7. It was enough to make the Christmas carol "The First Noel" odious to my ears for years afterward. Granted, I was scarcely out of the womb at the time and lacked some of the emotional maturity I have now. But still, saying goodbye to Daisy--and from 8,000 miles away--will be hard to do.
1 comment:
We always enjoyed Daisy dog- i remember taking her for a walk and she decided that she o longer needed the leash and dashed through the neighborhood. we are thinking of your whole family.
Kyle and Lindsay
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