As I type, Daisy is not doing well. She turned 15 on April 10. I will have to find and post Andrew's happy birthday to her. THAT was a birthday song to hear! You know what? Here it is. No time better than the present to just get it done.
She has gone through bouts of bowel and back leg issues, but she has always bounced back. This week, though, she seems to be getting worse in all areas, and has turned down food for the first time. She is a special, special dog and we have always hoped not to have to make any decisions. Sadly, that may be what we need to do. I have never looked forward to the end, much as I may complain about 8 dirty paws, or walking 4 dependents alone, or touching everyone's poop or vomit any given day, but that's what a mother does, isn't it? And I wouldn't trade it for the world.
Michael reminded me tonight of the first time I kept Daisy. He and I were just dating and he was out of town for some reason. The first story I told him was of how she growled me into a corner at my rental. Daisy???? Oh, how hysterical that is now. She must have known already that she would need to fight for his affection going forward. Funny...from my point of view, Daisy has never needed to fight. She's been his best friend of sorts since the day he graduated from VT. I am just a newer version of best friend...certainly not a replacement. Afterall, sweet Dais has never given Michael a hard time....only companionship, a hiking partner, and sweet kisses.
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