This is written by VeloVixen, I can’t get into my account, long story. Daisy was our little girl it doesn’t matter where the tribute is told just that it is.
I never knew that one tiny little ball of fur could do so much damage to a window sill or patch of carpeting. Corgis are happy, smart, loyal, working dogs. Their short, sturdy legs and low rider stance make them perfect for herding cattle and sheep. And their sharp little puppy teeth can wreak havoc on bare heels. We bore the scars for most of a year.
She was born to Bella and Elvis on February 18, 2011 on a farm in rural North Carolina. She had four sisters and one brother named Gus. When we brought her home, she weighed all of four pounds, a ball of brown and white fur that fit in the palm of your hand. One ear stubbornly flopped over her eye, making her impishly adorable and irresistible. We almost brought home Gus, too. Now I wish we had.
We named her Daisy for the character ‘Daisy Mae Scragg’ from the 1956 Broadway musical ‘Lil Abner’. TexDem played the role of ‘Lil Abner in our high school production in 1975; I played the minor role of Moonbeam McSwine. We thought it a fitting tribute to our high school days. Four years later, we adopted a brother for her and named him Abner.
Daisy lived up to her namesake’s virtue of never complaining no matter how hard it became. She was always a compliant patient, letting the vet poke and prod her when necessary. Even in her last moments, she never whimpered or cried out. She’d allow anyone to nuzzle her, play with her paws, or scratch her head. Just make sure you gave her treat for her trouble. She went to forever sleep with peanut butter on her tongue.
Growing up, my family had dogs as pets. I remember each of them: Blackie, Chi Chi, and Chico. Although they were loving companions, they came and went with the ebb and flow of my childhood. None was with us long enough to make that indelible mark. This time is different.
Daisy had a chronic digestive issue that began about three years ago: Protein-Losing Enteropathy that caused her body to reject proteins, leaking them out into her abdominal cavity. The normal prognosis is six months to a year. Our stoic little girl fought for almost three years with a cadre of immunosuppressants, B12, and medications to treat ulcers on board.
I’ve buried two parents, and lost more friends than I care to list. But absolutely nothing in my life has prepared me for the abysmal feeling of loss and grief at losing my little girl. Our hearts are truly broken as we remember the love and light that she brought to our lives. Greeting us at the door with barks and kisses, lying on the floor at our feet, chasing her brother around the yard, and having the last bark for good measure are memories of her we will carry in our hearts.
They wrapped her in a pink and white blanket, and put her in my lap. She had struggled mightily, trying her best to will her failing body to breathe a few more breaths. I nuzzled her head, kissing it and taking in her smell, to hold on to later. She became quiet and still. The struggle was over. Our angel had crossed the rainbow bridge to chase butterflies and bark at the bees.