Daisy had a rough start. Before she turned two, she had already delivered a litter, been abandoned overnight at an animal shelter with her puppies, contracted heartworms, and was severely underweight. After we adopted her, we spent the next twelve years trying to make up for those first two. I like to think she’d say we did her alright.
Daisy left us last week. Our Crazy Daisy is gone.
The night she passed away, I lit a candle for her in our bedroom. Her bed was still on the floor next to our fireplace, where a few hours ago Daisy had taken her last nap. I put the candle in the fireplace, switched off the lights, and was stunned to see a sight we had never seen before. That single flame picked up the curling fleurs-de-lis pattern in the fireplace screen and projected a magnified silhouette of it across the entire room, floor to ceiling, and all four walls. In silence, we watched as the flame flickered, and the whole room came alive as the shadows tossed and swayed all around us. After nine years with us in that room, Daisy had left us one more surprise gift.
The next morning, we found two ducks swimming in our pool, a rare but not uncommon event. Since then however, one of both of them has returned every morning, waddling around, swimming a few laps, and generally resting in a patch of thick groundcover next to the pool. I went out yesterday and found a nest with 4 eggs in the groundcover, now up to 5 eggs after this morning’s visit. Could it be another Daisy surprise?
We didn't call her our lovable Crazy Daisy for nothing. Bye sweetie.