Daisy the dog, lived a life as full as any dog could ever hope for. Most that knew her questioned whether she understood that she was actually a dog. After all, she spent her life sleeping in a bed, under the covers, until I was married. After that she slept on the best chair in the house and was covered by a blanket each night. Failure to fulfill her expectations would undoubtedly leave her walking in circles near your bedside clicking her nails in disapproval until you rectified the situation.
There are a lot of stories out there about this dog. My career path and education left her in the hands of many wonderful friends to watch over her through the years. She spent one Spring Break on the beach in South Carolina while I guided a group down the Rio Grande River. She spent a semester at the University of Iowa with my friend Matt while he was in Medical School and while I was an intern in Tennessee. She spent countless time with my parents and inlaws whenever we traveled. It would not have been possible to board this dog. After all, who would cover her up at night? She ate whole loaves of bread and other sundries from unsuspecting caregivers who were not savvy to her ninja like tactics.
Most of all, she loved people. She wanted nothing more than to be on your lap, in your bed or standing on your foot at all times. She would happily jump up on the couch and lay her head on your lap hoping you would pet her velvet ears. I, and I only, could pick her up and hold or carry her like a baby her entire life. Cradled in my arms on her back, or upright on one hip. It looked totally ridiculous, but it was just what we did. 50 pounds or not, she loved it. She lived up to the stereotype of the Vizsla breed being called 'velcro dogs' as she always wanted to be touching you.
There are not too many people that know me and didn't know, Daisy. When I purchased this fine beast at the naive and careless age of 19 I had no idea what I was doing. I didn't tell my parents and they certainly questioned the purchase to say the least. I bribed my sister to ride with me to get her in the fall of 1995. She was a slippery little beast in her young age. Lots of energy was a giant understatement.
In her last couple of years she had lost most of her hearing and the majority of her sight, but she always came home with a spotless bill of health ready to go for a walk, then sleep for 20+ hours. After she turned 100 (in dog years) I changed her name to Miracle. She was deaf, so it didn't matter to her and I thought it had a nice ring to it. Over the years she was also lovingly referred to as, the Sneezla (Trent, who now has 2 of his own sneezlas), Sneezie (Brandi), Daisers (my dad), Maisers (Matt and Carli Herold), That Dog (Boone), The Beast (Pertzborn) and many others that probably contained expletives based on her immediate behavior at the time.
Her final moments were on my lap, in my arms; exactly the way she was when she was 8 weeks old over 14 years ago. Daisy: Often imitated, never duplicated. I know that I will never have another dog quite like her. She was above and beyond anything I could have ever asked of a dog and more. While she will be missed by me a lot, her stories and legend will be around a long time among my friends and family.
Goodbye Daisy from Justin Evidon on Vimeo.