See, I got to thinking about this a couple hours ago; I really love my dog and I would literally fall apart with out her. Someday she'll grow old and move on to the otherworld, but if she was taken from me before old age claimed her I seriously would mourn her more than most of my family. It sounds awful but hey, it's true. In fact, there are SOME people in my family who I consider downright cruel and evil and I will be glad when their time comes. But more on that some other time.
As I was laying on the couch, freezing my ass off (It's currently 5 degrees outside), my Daisy jumped up with me and pawed at the blanket until I'd let her underneath it. She then proceeded to do her usual bit: she'll turn around this way a bit, and then walk in circles that way, see where my feet are and decide if she should lay on them, under them, or next to them, and then she'll flump down and curl into the smallest ball she can make herself. As she was doing this, I felt a sudden urge of gratitude to have her in my life. She's such a wonderful companion. She isn't really bright, as I've stated multiple times, but her capacity for love blows me away. How many dogs will legitimately cuddle their masters? Sure, a dog will lay next to you, or near you. But Daisy takes it a step further and will endeavor to burrow under me. Or in the middle of the night, she will have her body pressed against mine (She kind of "spoons" me.) and she'll rest her head on my stomach or hip protectively. She gives kisses on command. When I'm home, she's at my side. I actually get emotional when she displays these examples of devotion to me. Because for all her lack of common sense and her lack of general awareness at her surroundings, she lavishes attention and affection on me. Knowing my dog is "simple", but still has the wherewithal to love on me when she doesn't have the ability to find something hiding under a blanket, is really kind of touching.
On that note, I want to share with you the story of her adoption.
It was a Friday night, in October 2011. Boyfriend's cat had passed away a week or two previously, and he was taking it hard. The cat had been his companion for a decade and it was unexpected. The cat was aging, yes, and we had recently moved. The shock and trauma of moving was something the cat couldn't get over. The stress was taking it's toll on her body and she wasn't adjusting. She became ill, and couldn't cope with the changes. (Interruption: Daisy just rolled over and put her head on my thigh. She then gave a light snore. Aww!) So, it was a tough decision, but after a few months in our new home and with no improvement, Boyfriend decided it'd be best of Twilight went to sleep. She wasn't adjusting, she was suffering and not healthy, and nothing we did seemed to reassure her. The vet later said she was experiencing some dementia. Putting Twilight to sleep was Boyfriend's hardest decision, and he cried for weeks later. Which brings us to this Friday. "Let's cut loose," I said. "Let's get totally wasted, and just not give a shit. We'll play drunken Guitar Hero until the wee morning hours and we'll pass out where ever we may fall." He agreed.
Well, that's not exactly how it ended up. I ended up sloshed, he ended up tipsy. While in the bathroom washing my face and brushing my teeth before bed, I slipped. I fell. And when I fell, my legs when opposite directions, forming an odd type of split. And my jeans ripped. Aw, shit. That was my only pair, too! I stumbled to the bedroom, threw the stupid pants in the general direction of the closet, and said "We gotsta go to WalMart tomorrow. I need pantssss," before cuddling up to boyfriend for the night.
That morning, Saturday, I was hating life. F--- this. F--- that. F--- sunlight. I drank a strong cup of coffee and nibbled a granola bar. I didn't even want to get dressed; I "borrowed" a pair of Boyfriend's gym shorts and put on a tank top. Put on the bare minimum necessary make up, twisted my hair up in a sloppy ponytail, and readied myself to face the world. We got in Boyfriend's truck and drove to my mom's to socialize and help her with an errand, and then we were off to Wal-Mart. Kinda.
We drove back to our town (Mom lived a few towns over) and we headed in the direction of Wal-Mart. Across the street from Wal-Mart was a Petsmart. I see an "ADOPTIONS TODAY" sign and look at Boyfriend with big puppydog eyes and plead, "PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE CAN WE LOOOOK? I JUST WANNA LOOK I SWEAR." I think he was amused at my excitement more than anything else, because he agreed. We'd only be a few minutes, and we'd buy my pants right after. Then we'd go home, have dinner, and just have a quiet night in. I was pretty much vibrating with excitement, like a kid on a sugar high, as we entered the store. I found where the dogs were and made a beeline for the crates. Boyfriend gently tugged my ponytail and reminded me we're only looking, and maybe playing. He reminded me about the lease for our apt.: only 2 pets allowed. We violated that when we had Twilight and his other cat and Moto, but now we were just down to the one cat and Moto. Okay, okay, no adopting. Jeez, whatever. Let me go play! :)
So we play with the dogs, and they're all super adorable. There's a Chihuahua that's annoying as hell and she's wearing a Halloween dress. There were a few mutts, and a big lab mix. There was a Jack Russel Terrier. I didn't even see Daisy at first.
I played with the Jack Russel, and inquired about how long he'd been at the shelter, etc. I asked about all the dogs and how long they'd been there. Then, I saw Daisy. Her crate had a sheet on it with what little info they had about her. She was 2 years old, almost 3. Her breed stated "Terrier Mix". Well, she sure didn't look like any terrier I'd ever seen. Anyway, I asked how long she'd been at the shelter. Thirty one days, was the answer. "Thirty one days?" I asked. "Do you have an exact calender or something? That's oddly specific." I started playing with her a bit while talking to the volunteers. The explained they knew it was 31 days she'd been there because she had been an owner surrender, and owner surrender dogs only are allowed 30 days in the shelter before being put to sleep. How did she get that extra day, then? The volunteers had to petition to make the shelter let Daisy attend the adoption event. Today was her last chance. If she didn't get adopted today, that was it. She had no behavioral problems, except she doesn't do well on a leash and she has a loud bark.
I pulled Boyfriend aside. "Please. Please baby." I said. No way, was his response. Someone else will adopt her. Someone else will take her home. She's cute, she's lovable. She'll be fine.
"Baby," I pleaded, "It's 3 o'clock. The adoption is over at 5. She has two hours for someone to come by and decide to take her home. She's gonna die, baby. Look at her. She's not purebred. She's not even a recognizable mix of breeds. She's a mutt, and mutts die. Mutts don't get adopted."
He was quiet. We sat down there, in the aisle. Yes, on the floor. He looked at Daisy, and he looked at me. Volunteers came by to pat my shoulder, or try to pressure boyfriend. "Come on, man. Do it for your lady!" said one black guy just passing by. "Call it an early Christmas present!" said one of the middle aged ladies tending to the dogs.
Boyfriend suddenly stood and fished in his pockets for his keys. "The hell are you doing?" I cried. "Going home," he said. "Going home, so we can get Moto, bring him here, and see how they socialize."
I cheered. Out loud. I really did. I think a few volunteers did too.
We drove home and I ran up the 2 flights of stairs to our apartment. "Come on Moto! Let's go for a walk!" I leashed the hyperactive little guy and we raced downstairs to the truck. Time was ticking! It was already almost four. We drove back to Petsmart, Moto on my lap. I urged him to go faster, faster, faster! No, not faster, that's a cop. Okay... faster!
We arrived back at Petsmart about ten after four and I walked Moto inside. A volunteer leashed Daisy walked her outside, so she and Moto could be introduced without all the other dogs around. The volunteer told us a family had looked at Daisy while we were gone, but the eldest daughter didn't want Daisy because in her opinion, she just wasn't that cute. Are you kidding me? Look at that face! She's got such a youthful, puppy-esque face. I was already head over heels in love with Daisy.
Moto was really anxious at first, and kept tangling his leash around Boyfriend's legs in an attempt to hide behind him. I would pet Daisy, and let him smell my hand. It took him a few minutes, but he warmed up to her enough to not try to hide behind Boyfriend anymore. They sniffed each other, and then Moto regarded her with indifference. He must have decided she wasn't a threat. Daisy was incredibly curious about Moto. The volunteer told us Daisy had been surrendered along with a Yorkshire and maybe she was trying to make the connection between Moto and her previous playmate. Daisy's previous owner had stated the two got along really well; Daisy was very careful and gentle with little dogs. Great! I looked at Boyfriend, and he smiled. He looked at me, and he looked at the volunteer, and said to us, "Don't y'all need to go fill out some paperwork?" I hugged him so hard. I started crying. I didn't know how this was going to work with our lease, but we'd find a way. We'd make it work.
I went inside and filled out the forms. I got copies of Daisy's records and I chose her new leash and collar. We got her a small bag of food, and some water and food bowls. We got her a crate, so we could lock her up while we weren't home until we learned her habits. Would she scratch at doors? Would she mess on the carpet if left alone for a few hours or could she hold it until we got home?
One hundred and fifty dollars later (adoption fee + supplies), I had my Daisy. We put her in the back of the cab, behind the seats in the small cargo space. Moto sat on my lap again. We quickly learned Daisy loves car rides. She put her paws on the center console and laid her head down, so she was standing on her back paws and laying on her front. She inched forward, ever so slightly, bit by bit, until she somehow suddenly ended up in my lap along with Moto. (Interruption: She just stood up, turned around, and tried to stick her head between my back and the sofa. She decided having just her nose there is good enough.)
We got home, and I kept Moto on the leash while I let Daisy roam and sniff around and explore our apartment. As she acquainted herself with her new home, I spoke with Boyfriend. "She's not a replacement for Twilight," I said. "She's just a new member of our little family. You know that right? She's not hear to take Twilight's place. Daisy is just a few furry face to love." Boyfriend smiled. "I know," he said. "I'm okay. If I wasn't, we would have left much sooner." Good. :) That left me with one more important thing to do.
Call my mom and tell her. "Mom, hey." "Oh, hey Princess, how was shopping?" "Well, I didn't get pants. Can't afford them for a week or two now." "WHAT? Why! What happened?" "Well mama, I spent $150 just now." "On WHAT?" "A dog." -silence-. "Mom?" "Another dog? I have another grandpuppy, in addition to Moto?" "Yes mama. Her name is Daisy. We've no idea what breed she is. She's a mutt. I'll text you a picture." "Are you happy?" "Yes mama." "Then give my new grandpuppy a treat for me!"
I did send my mom a picture, and I could tell she was kind of trying to be supportive. "Oh, I guess she's... cute...." kind of reaction. See, Daisy just isn't photogenic. When Mom met Daisy for the first time, she was taken aback. Mom got to see Daisy is gorgeous, and pictures just don't do justice.
I call Daisy my princess, my babygirl, my angel. But Mom corrected me. Mom thinks Daisy is not my angel, but rather, I am hers, since I adopted her just in time. Daisy was living on borrowed time and was down to the wire when I adopted her. She came so close to being put down. Mom believes I was meant to rip my pants, to drive to Wal-Mart, to go across the street instead and adopt Daisy. Mom believes it wasn't a coincidence. Just one of those things that was meant to be. And I agree.
I wonder if Daisy knows. I wonder if she has any idea what fate awaited her, back at the shelter. I wonder if she does, and that's why her affection to both Boyfriend and myself is limitless. Or maybe she just loves us, just because she does.
Either way, I love her dearly. She is a light in my life. And she is sweet as she is "simple".
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| She's so easygoing. She let me wrap her up like a taquito and didn't even care. She probably enjoyed the warmth! |
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