How do you say thanks?

Young Daisy/Courtesy: Me

This is something I never really contemplated writing about, but if I don't do it now, I don't know if I will. It's more a rhetorical question than anything else, but one of those things that when you get to the point where you are thinking about it, you want to know how to do it?

It's not something I've had to do on the level that I am about to. I've had relatives pass away, we've had to put down family dogs before and TLB and I had to say goodbye to her 1st cat, Simon on New Years Eve day a couple of years ago. Heck, when I was 16, my father had to go put down a German Shepard pup (Sam) that we had because she had mental issues when I wasn't around. 

That being said, Daisy is different. Daisy the Wonder Dog came into my life as a pup. My sister had adopted her from a pet rescue and tried raising her along with my niece, Jordan. It was too much for her.

When I moved to Atlanta in 1999, Daisy and I spent time together and bonded. At that point, she had ended up with my parents, who lived there at the time. They already had a Golden Retriever, Hallie.

Fast forward to March of 2000 and I'm getting ready to buy a Townhouse when I asked. "If you'd like, I'd be glad to take Daisy in". "She'll have some room in the Townhouse". They said yes.

Sure, she was still pretty destructive when I got her. She ate a pair of my sneakers, a baseball glove and a part of the window sill along with any piece of wood or leather she could find. But she grew out of it. And we bonded. She was brought up right, Crate Training, healthy eating and exercise.

We were inseparable. Sure, I had to leave her with my parents to dog sit when I was traveling for work, which I frequently did in those days. Daze would sit at the window of their house and cry when I left. And come tackle me at a full sprint when I came to pick her up. Always.

It was the greeting when I came home that I'll always remember. It didn't matter if I was gone an hour...or 8 of them, she went crazy when I came home. She was there, smiling, with not 1, but 2 tennis balls in her mouth. And she would proceed to run laps around the couch before pouncing on me.

And then there was the "Moment of Zen". Truth be told, my best friend came up with that. Since Jon and  I talk most everyday, most of our conversations were while I was on my way home. And quite often, it would be as I got home to Daze. You had to hear the Zen to understand it. It really sounds like she's saying "Hello" if you listen. It's just really funny to hear it from a dog.

It's the little things you remember the most. When I would stretch out on the couch, she was right there at my feet. If I went in the office to do work, she had to be underneath the desk. Even at night, she had a bed next to mine, she was there when I went to sleep, she was there when I woke up. When she was young, it would involve her paws and face on the bed trying to wake me up, as she got older, it was just sitting there waiting to be pet.

We had some adventures. I took her with me to Panama City on a Scuba Trip in 2004. She was great in the hotel...except when she saw a squirrel near the tree on the other side of the parking lot. She treed it. Couldn't have been prouder. Much later, she would go with us to visit my parents after they moved to Wilmington, North Carolina. We had a crazy trip to Michelle's hometown Lafayette, Lousiana in 2007. Just me and the dog, driving 9 hours in a non-stop rain that ended as severe thunderstorms. But she was always there. And as long as I was there too, she was happy. She even came with me to the 1st ever WGCL Fantasy Football draft in the old Channel 46 shack on Briarcliffe Road. She just hung out, visited and got spoiled, by everyone there.

There is a saying that "The world is their playpen". That's the Wonder Dog in a nutshell. She had a "Stupid Pet Trick", and it made everyone who saw it, laugh.



I think the toughest adjustment that she's had to make, much like Michelle and I, was moving up north. The house we rented when we moved up here was a challenge for her, never mind us. But, it had a backyard, something she had never had. However, the first time I tried to let her out the back door onto the back deck leading to the yard, she just stopped. Stopped and stared "What? You're not coming with me?". I did. But the house was rough on her. Cold. Un-insulated, the winter was rough.

It got worse. She developed allergy issues. Bad allergy issues. We got a cat. Being the friendly dog that she was, she accepted him. And she just rolled with it, like she always does.

It's been really tough this winter. Even more so than last. Last year it snowed. A good amount. And she enjoyed it. She always liked the snow, the once or twice that it snowed in Atlanta, she'd run around like it was a new toy. But this winter has been too much. It's snowed. It's iced. A lot. Even more than the precip, is the cold. It's been horribly cold this winter. It's been tough on me, I can't imagine how hard it's been for her. But she's tried.

It started getting bad a couple of months ago. She was chewing the top part of her legs raw. She was shedding in clumps. But she never complained. Never wavered. We found out in September that she had Thyroid issues. I was giving her pills twice a day and rubbing solution on her legs to keep her from chewing. About...I guess a month ago, she started slowing down. I'm not sure if it was even noticeable then. She didn't greet me at the door with the two-tennis balls in her mouth, she didn't give me...or Michelle the "Moment of Zen". She just kind of wagged her tail, smiled and laid down.

It's been worse the past few weeks. She was spending most of her time in her orthopedic bed, next to where I sleep. She'd get up to eat, but that was about it. Last week, we realized where we were. I took her out to go to the bathroom on a cold, snowy morning. She went, but then laid down in the grass and just stayed there. I picked her up and carried her back to the apartment and we went to the doctor.

He gave her some pills and we did an x-ray and saw something not right. Her heart isn't right. By heart I mean the organ that pumps the blood. Her heart, that was and has always been right.

I struggle with this part, not because I'm sad, but because I want to do what's right. More than anything I don't want her to suffer and I don't want her to be miserable. I owe her that. I don't look back and I'm not going to be upset.

How do you thank a dog for doing what all good dogs do? How do you thank an animal for being your best friend for all these years? How do you thank her for listening to all your problems and always just being happy that you are there and sharing? I don't know if even something like this can do it justice. But I refuse to think anything else.

((Note--We are going to see the Oncologist today 2/9/11 at 4:30pm. My regular vet today said Daisy doesn't have much time left. Michelle and I know this. We are okay with this. We just want to know for sure.))

((2nd Update--Don't know if anyone else is reading this so far after its written, but we had to put Daisy down on Sunday. It wasn't good. She was really struggling and we couldn't bear seeing her like that. Especially since we knew it wasn't going to get better. Honestly, I couldn't really talk much about this until now. I'm still getting used to her not being there when I get up in the morning. The apartment is really quiet. Too quiet, which honestly, is the hardest thing to deal with))