Miss Daisy's 4th Got You BarkdayOn April 19, 2009, I picked up my very special rescue girl, Daisy. A production line breeder momma, she was among 60 dogs saved from a Missouri puppy torture mill.
I'd lost my heart dog, the Divine Miss Emily, suddenly 3 months before to a sudden onset brain tumor that took her from me in 4 days. I was NOT getting another dog anytime soon. Period. Skeezix and I would just muddle through together, but... cruising CorgiAid "just looking" I came nose to nose with Daisy! One ear straight up in the air and a nub where the other one should have been.
Picture of Daisy on CorgiAid
I just knew she was my dog. As it turned out Daisy had just been posted on CorgiAid that same afternoon. Emily sent her to me.
Daisy had had a horrifying life. She came into rescue missing an ear, having severe dry eye and a hernia, not to mention all the other awfulnesses that come with being constantly pregnant or raising babies, but the worst was the PTSD. She was so terrified that she spent her entire first year in a dog nest that backed up to the sofa, literally up against a wall in fear. It was heartbreaking, yet Daisy let me get a little closer and a little closer as year one passed.
Daisy ate in her nest, drank water from a bowl beside her nest and trembled. After several months of no improvement treating her very painful dry eye, miracle worker veterinary ophthalmologist, Dr. Kelly Sigle, moved a salivary duct to the inside of Daisy's lower eyelid. Daisy now salivates 'tears' for her injured eye every time she eats, smells something she likes, chews on a toy or watches me eat. Her eye has not gone blind nor developed ulcers. A tiny 18 pound pemmie wonder girl.
By the end of year one, Daisy had begun sitting on the sofa with me, still went out only on leash (and always will - or she'd panic and run away), let me pick her up to take her out, to bed or to another chair. A true corgi, she looooooved her cookies. In year 2 Daisy barked for the first time, chewed some toys and took tentative steps in play, including frisking on the bed with Skeezix. What a minx!
During that same year, Daisy began to do her version of the kibble dance, only on the sofa where she still and to this day eats all her meals. Although Daisy would skitter away if I tried to pet her, she had begun to scamper down the hall to see where I was and sometimes she stayed.
Years three and four, it just kept getting better. Meeting me at the door and frisking when I come home. Barking at the other dogs, with the other dogs or just when she feels like barking for the joy of barking and barking and barking. It's a great sound to hear and she is a corgi after all. She races around the mealtime "circuit" from kitchen to dog lair to living room and back again. Tells doofus cardi Riley to BACK OFF when he gets too silly, she's even bared a fang! Comes when she's called - sometimes she is a corgi after all. Does the Extreme Kibble dance for any cookie anytime. Sits up and puts her paws together. Comes up to bed on her own with the other furkids. Sleeps snuggled up against my back. In the morning and evening Daisy puts her paws on my chest and lets me scritch her ear and a half. She's now my velcro corgi, following me wherever I go and getting as close to me as she can.
In late winter when I was recovering from eye surgery and pretty much living in a recliner for a month, Daisy was with me in that chair 24/7.
Daisy's fourth year best present to me was wagging her nubbin for the first time about a month ago.
Little by little my Daisy has begun to feel safe and to embrace being a corgi for all it's worth. And every day just looking at her reminds me how blessed I am to have her come into my heart.
Daisy happy again (Photo: Melissa Barth)
Daisy's shown me what someone can do even though they've been beaten down, severely injured and thrown away as trash. Daisy still could learn to trust. My Divine Miss Emily at the Bridge knew what she was doing when she sent me Daisy.
Happy Gottcha Barkday, sweet sweet Daisy.
Skeezix, Riley, Daisy, Lulu and Baxter Black
Reproduced with kind permission.