BillstronBlog

We got Daisy from the Lexington (KY) Humane Society in February 1999, just a little over a month after my wife (then girlfriend) and I moved in together.  The stated reason for her being there (cannot control) and our walk around the store should have tipped us off as to what we were in store for, but we were absolute suckers for the way she looked at us with those big brown eyes and floppy ears.  She was far from the perfect dog — bad on a leash, jumped up on people when she saw them, sneaked food when no one was looking (and sometimes when people were), and all around untrainable, but that little hound dog had a tremendous amount of love to give.

She wasn’t indiscriminate with her love like a lot of dogs.  She would act demure when meeting someone new on the street, but if she already knew you… get out the ear plugs!  She’d let everyone around know that she loved you through her howls and bays.  The best part about it was that it didn’t matter how long it had been, she would still remember you and love you.  My friend Mark came by just last Monday.  She hadn’t seen him in years, but she hadn’t forgotten him.

She showed affection in everything she did and consequently loved to cuddle.  She could hang out for hours if you pet her head or rubbed her belly.  She also loved to just snuggle up next to you and take a nap. I loved our evenings as a pack, sitting on the couch together watching movies.

She took good care or her pack too.  Last summer when we were going through the turmoil with pre-term labor and Molly’s premature birth, Daisy was the perfect companion.  She knew that we were going through a painful experience, and she unselfishly shined her love on us.  She didn’t act out when we left her home alone multiple nights.  She didn’t whine when we spent long hours at the hospital.  Once we would get home, she would cuddle up beside us and let us know how much she loved us.

I now know that during our trying times, she too was going through her own internal turmoil.  Hindsight shows that she was slowly dying of kidney failure.  The subtle signs that she couldn’t hide were there — increased thirstiness, lessened appetite, and weight loss.  She must have felt bad, but did she let on, no.  She gave us her love until she knew that Molly was strong enough, and she continued until she knew that we could handle her departure.

Last Monday, Daisy was fine.  She was getting old and somewhat frail, but otherwise fine.  The previous week, she had a vomiting and diarrhea spell and hadn’t been very into eating, but that had subsided and wasn’t too abnormal anyway.  Then, Tuesday night she had a weird spell where she couldn’t get comfortable and kept pacing.  For a second we thought she might be dying, but dismissed the idea fairly quickly.  With each passing day, she got progressively worse, though.  I took her on a long walk Wednesday because I thought she might just need some exercise, but I was sorely mistaken.  Thursday, she could hardly stand up.  When she still wasn’t feeling well Friday, we secured a vet appointment for Monday.  By Friday evening we thought we needed to see the vet sooner, and took her Saturday morning.  The vet basically told us that, given her age, this was most likely the end, but we took some blood and urine for testing, anyway.  We didn’t have plans to treat any chronic illnesses, but I thought if we knew the problem we could make her more comfortable.

Sensing that the end was very near, we spent all day Saturday and Sunday as a contiguous pack, and the little hound dog never really got off the couch.  She was happy and comfortable enough, but Daisy’s will to live was leaving her.  She even refused the home cooked chicken and grain made with love by her parents.  Sunday evening, her vomit was speckeled with blood.  By Monday morning, she was vomiting only blood.  Daisy felt very uncomfortable all night and displayed it by whining and whimpering.  We took shifts by her side, trying to reassure her that she need not fear death.  She didn’t dare close her eyes all night, though.

Knowing what had to be done, we got an appointment for the vet for first thing in the morning.  Daisy was extremely weak, so we used her bed, which was a gift from my sister, as a stretcher in order to get her to and from the car. Once inside the examination room, we placed the bed with Daisy still awake inside on to the exam table.  The bed insured that she was very comfortable — a little piece of home in the cold doctors office.  We held her as the medicine entered her artery, and it only took a couple of seconds to quiet her frantic heart.  Her pain is over.

But ours isn’t.  She was an integral member of my family for ten years.  She was my first dog, and she was Molly’s first dog too.  She was our companion on a number of long and difficult journeys.  I only pray that I was as good a companion to her as she was to me.  These last two days must have been the most difficult of her life.  I just tried to keep reassuring her by saying, “I love you, Daisy.”