RIP, Daisy



It’s been a rough week. We said goodbye to our beloved Daisy  tonight. I’ve shed a lot of tears — before, during and after — and I’ll probably shed lots more in the coming days. Saying goodbye to a pet is seriously one of the hardest things to do.

KP and I adopted Daisy in September 2010, just a month after we got married. With one look at her adorable pictures, I knew she had to be ours.


On paper, Daisy was everything we were looking for — she wasn’t a puppy, she was crate-trained and she was house-broken. And she was adorable. Daisy had been surrendered to the Midwest Boston Terrier Rescue organization, we were told, by an elderly couple who had to move into nursing care. Seems like this was probably the case, as Daisy did better with calm, quiet and a sedentary lifestyle more than she did with much chaos and activity.

Early on it was evident that Daisy was pretty feisty. She did what she wanted, when she wanted, hence earning the moniker, Daisy the Diva. I remember anxiously telling our vet how she refused to walk on her leash; she would literally put on her brakes and flat out refuse to walk! She also had two traits of a 50-year old man; she farted and snored incessantly. But we still loved her. We also quickly learned that Daisy was a biter, but under very specific circumstances (that’s the defensive mom in me coming out). Daisy hated sudden movements and god forbid she felt like she was going to get stepped on. Instead of waiting to see what was going to happen, she’d proactively nip at an ankle or bite toes if she so much as thought she was going to get trampled, or felt her space was being invaded. The rules of Daisy became a running joke in our family: 1) stop, 2) acknowledge, 3) proceed with caution.

While most dogs love the dog park and playing with other dogs, Daisy did not. We took her to the dog park a handful of times, only to watch her mingle with humans. It was wasted on her. She just didn’t have much interest in other dogs. What she did love, was food. To say that Daisy was a food-motivated dog is an understatement. She loved baby carrots, eggs, peanut butter, cheese and Scooter’s frozen custard in a puppy cone. She also loved chasing squirrels, rabbits and rodents (it’s Chicago, people…). As far as people were concerned, so long as she got a belly rub or at least a pat on the head, you were in her good graces. She abhorred the doorbell and ringing cell phones, and any kind of chaos.

Daisy was a very lucky dog for her first three or so years with us; she was our firstborn “dogter,” after all. We truly treated her like our child, sparing no expense for Daisy. And even after baby sister, Nora, arrived last May, we still spared no expense for Daisy. It was clear that she was no longer top dog, though. Nora was our priority and I have no doubt that Daisy felt it. Daisy was not a fan of Nora initially. I vividly remember the day we brought her home from the hospital. Daisy flat-out ignored Nora; instead, she was fixated on a squirrel that was on our back deck. As soon as Nora let out one of her squeaks, though, Daisy was intrigued — and not in a good way! The first several weeks were touch and go, with Daisy climbing up on Nora’s bassinet every time she made a peep. But, I guess once Daisy realized that Nora wasn’t going anywhere, she eventually came around. It was a slow process. She went from probably to despising her, to acknowledging her existence (but refusing to make eye contact), to accepting belly rubs and hugs from Nora. I think Daisy instinctively knew that all bets were off with Nora. And maybe it helped that “Daisy” was Nora’s first word; Nora was bound and determined to make Daisy her BFF, whether or not the feeling was mutual.

Last fall, things began to change for Daisy. She was diagnosed with Cushing’s disease in August or September, and it’s been a bit of a roller coaster ever since then. Not that she was much of a go-getter to begin with, but her energy level decreased dramatically. She frequently had accidents in the house. She developed calcinosis cutis. She was much more susceptible to other illnesses due to her weakened immune system. And she didn’t do herself any favors by eating a mini spatula (well, just the rubber head part) back in December, as she had to have it surgically removed in January. We tried to control the Cushing’s with medication, but it became a never-ending battle; just when it seemed like we had things under control, it became clear that we didn’t.

In recent months, Daisy’s decline became more and more obvious. And in the past week, even more so. Like I said, Daisy was all about food, so clearly something was up when she let baby carrots, cheese and peanut butter go uneaten. She simply wasn’t herself and Cushing’s wasn’t doing her any favors.

After we got home from our family vacation, we knew it was time. Even still, we hem-hawed about the decision. I told myself last week that she had had such a great week that there was no way it was time… only to have all these other things happen which reconfirmed our initial decision. All of these thoughts ran through my head — one of the dumbest ones was that “she’s only ten!” But as I’ve been reminded by many people, age has nothing to do with it. Like most decisions I make — right or wrong — I scour the internet as my means of “research.” There’s a lot of helpful information out there about how you know when it’s the “right time” to say goodbye to your pet. And I knew. Without even reading all of those articles, I knew.

So tonight we said good-bye. It was very peaceful as I held her in my arms, and I truly felt that she was in a better place and finally found some comfort. We will miss her like crazy.

So long, Daisy… until we meet again (May 7, 2004 – July 31, 2014).



2 Responses to “RIP, Daisy”

  1. 1 Aunt Joan

    OH NO!!!!!!!!!!!! Why am I sitting here crying, darn ankle biter! Loved sweet Daisy, RIP, like you said, until we meet again…my sympathies for your loss.

  1. 1 The Week That Was: August 1, 2014 » The Globetrotting Gal

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