Daisy, it has been one of the roughest memorials I have ever written. Besides losing you, the second move in 2 years, being sick from the Irbesartan for 2 years and the accident of tearing my rotator cuff and just not ready to let you go all kept me from writing your memorial. You were and still are in my mind one of the toughest dogs with which I ever had to deal and I have no regrets.
You were so scared of so many things, yet you helped me help you whenever and wherever the fear reared its ugly head and we both know that was often. You were such a happy dog after we figured out a shared path to communication. Your PTSD from the puppy mill was always lurking over our heads. You were so happy running, chasing and even killing animals in Sellersville. You would jump into the swimming pool, catch the frisbee and unless there were a thunderstorm, I could count on you to come back to me if something scared you.
I will never forget the night you took off before the storm came and I found you hours later in our neighbor’s garage, cowering. You knew it was a big storm before anyone else did. You were so sensitive. You did worry me a lot when I couldn’t find you and I had to wait out the storm to go looking.
You were also so trusting and loyal, that even when those kids knocked down the gate in the backyard you sat for 6 hours until Cathy came to feed you. You sat at the front door patiently waiting. It was heartwarming seeing you on the security cams safely waiting. Sasha had figured out how to get back into the house. You just waited patiently.
I don’t know if you remember, however when you first came into our lives you were so afraid of everything you hid behind furniture and hated the out of doors. It took a year of force petting you before you made that big change to loving living in Sellersville. The Gehman’s loved that you were the animal control making sure the animals we didn’t want who ate our gardens and flowers were kept at bay.
I am glad I figured out at the beginning that the fights between you and Sasha were not your fault. It came as a big surprise to me. I thought you were the problem and almost got rid of you. I am glad I figured it out. It was sad that your solution was to avoid Sasha and then later Sedona. You all lost a lot of fun time; however, your choice was a good one. It prevented more vet visits.
Moving to Pueblo was truly the worst experience for all of us. You lived in the bathtub on my belly trying to deal with your PTSD when you were afraid. You also were so accepting of your tiny swimming pool and the one small spot of snow that you rolled in in the backyard. I only wish you had lasted a little longer. Loveland doesn’t have many of those loud noises. People take better care of their cars and trucks. July 4th doesn’t go on for a month and there are very few thunderstorms. You would have loved it here. Lots of flowers, friendly dogs and humans. Sedona and I go to Loch Lon every day and play with a whole big group of dogs. She is no longer afraid of big dogs and it is the first true social life for both of us. You would love it here. I so miss you.
I only had the small pool; however, you could still dunk in it. I miss your big happy ears, your big happy inquiring eyes. I am so sorry you had such a bad start in this world and so happy I was chosen as the one to help you become the happy dog you became. You really fooled everyone. They gave you only a few months to live with your mouth cancer and you proved them wrong. You lasted a whole year after the diagnosis.
You were such a happy dog. Even at CSU Veterinary Hospital, October 15, 2021, when you gave your last breath, under those beautiful fall trees, yellow leaves and bright sunlight, you looked so precious. As much as I didn’t want to say goodbye, it was a perfect end to such a warm and loving soul. I hope you are happy up there. I look forward to re-uniting some day at the other side of the Rainbow Bridge. I hope Sasha is nicer to you up there. Sedona has turned into a treasure. All her anger and fears are gone. She has turned into a loving soul, just like you.
Thank you for coming back to let me know you were okay. Coming back as a Monarch butterfly was a dream come true. I have plenty of Milkweed here if you ever want to visit. I look forward to the time we meet again. Until then you can always listen to the music I chose for your memorial, Bicycle Built for Two, by Nat Cole. The song I loved to sing to you.
Hugs and kisses
Mom and Sedona