I have a bad habit of reading books about dogs and someone needs to hold an intervention for me because I end up depressed for days afterward. While Daisy was still alive I read Dogs Never Lie About Love, by Jeffrey Masson. It helped me try to understand what was going on in Daisy's mind. I think it helped me feel better about the "person" that I was for her too.
A while later it was Colter: The True Story of the Best Dog I Ever Had, by Rick Bass. Oh, I loved that book. It made me love Daisy even more. It made me want to be a better person for her sake. I wanted to run her and hike with her and let her swim in every river and lake. I wanted to do whatever it took to make her happy.
We lived a great life together. I have regrets. There were too many times I went away for the weekend and let the neighbor boy take care of her. She always forgave me. There were the stupid boyfriends I had that she put up with. One used to tell me that she glared at him. I thought that was so stupid until my brother actually witnessed it. She was right about that guy. I should have heard her sooner.
I felt bad when Brown eyed Man and I became involved and she was banished to the other room at night. One of my favorite feelings in the world was to wake up in the middle of the night and hear her snoring. I knew everything was okay if I could hear that. In reality, there could have been an axe murderer in our house and she would have slept right through it. The only time she barked in the house was when someone rang the doorbell and that was only because it caught her off-guard and she barked out of fright.
We had our routines. We could walk for miles and miles and all I had to do was say "here" and she was right by my side. I have one baseball cap that she chewed the edge on. It's a Lucky Labrador hat. How fitting. It was the only thing she ever damaged. I still wear it.
Everyone loved her and she loved most everyone. We would go to Gun Clubs and people I didn't even know, knew her name. Mostly kids. They would ride by the fifth wheel and say "Hi Daisy!". Anyone who would throw a stick or ball for her was her new friend. Sometimes I would just sit on the floor and roll a ball to her and she would roll it back with her nose. I didn't want her to have to get up.
Toward the end, I stopped reading dog books for a while because they hurt my heart so much. One day I picked up The Art of Racing in the Rain, by Garth Stein. I think it was on recommendation from a friend. I don't want to give anything away, but I loved it and I cried my eyes out too. I would 100% recommend this book to anyone, dog lover or not. Great writing, great story. It wasn't a good time for me to read that book though. I knew that Daisy's time was coming soon. She had a harder and harder time getting her back legs up underneath her and she couldn't go for walks or hikes anymore. The most exciting thing she liked to do was to walk to the mailbox. Even then she usually only went half way and waited for me to come back.
We went through a lot together. She was always there for me. I hope she felt all the love I had and have for her.
After The Art of Racing in the Rain, I made the brilliant idea to read Rescuing Sprite: A Dog Lover's Story of Joy and Anguish, by Mark Levin. When I finished reading that book, and was sobbing in bed, Brown eyed Man asked why I keep putting myself through this. I wondered the same thing and vowed to stop the self-torture.
I refuse to watch Animal Planet even when they are rescuing the animals because it still breaks my heart that the dogs were put in that position to begin with. When those Sarah McLachlin commercials come on, I either leave the room or turn the channel.
I thought I would never love a dog again after Daisy passed. I couldn't understand how anyone could ever get another dog. When my Grandma died back in 2002, my Dad confided to me that he felt worse about his dog, Tasha, dying than he did about his own mother. Although, to be fair, Grandma was kind of a pain in his neck toward the end and I think he was just relieved. While I couldn't understand it at the time, I did last summer. The complete heartbreak and loss was terrible. I sat in the shop with Brown eyed Man for days and just cried every afternoon.
Months went by and I started wishing for that companion again. That little loving thing that thinks YOU ARE THE BEST THING I HAVE EVER SEEN! I think I already mentioned that it took me, The Boy and The Girl a long time to talk brown eyed Man into another dog. He finally caved in February.
This girl is 152% different than I remember Daisy being as a pup. Maybe I only remember the good. Clover bolts across the street even when I yell NO! and she gets spanked. She ate 3 pieces of chicken off the counter the other night, she chews EVERYTHING.
A few weeks back, I noticed that a friend was reading A Dog's Purpose: A Novel for Humans, by W. Bruce Cameron. I said "Will it make me cry?" She said "Well, yeah probably a little bit" A little bit. HA! I actually listened to it on Audible while at work. I stayed later than normal last night because I was really into it. I listened to the final hour this morning. If you don't have the time to read the actual book, I would highly recommend listening to it. The narrator, George K. Wilson, sounds a little bit like the guy who narrates A Christmas Story. It's told from the dog's point of view.
I won't give away the story, but please take the time to read it. I will say this though, I spent last night asking Clover if she was Daisy. She isn't. She's not Pikku either. She might be Sam, my grandparents dog, but it's hard to tell which one because they had two Sams. I hope she's the smarter one.
I wonder know whether I was Daisy's purpose and whether we'll meet again. I hope so. I hope hope hope so.
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