Last Sunday, my dog, Daisy passed away. When I first started writing this essay about losing her, the focus was on everything that happened in the last 17 hours of Daisy’s life: from the moment she had the first seizure to the moment she died in my arms. The story was so sad that I just cried as I read it and decided to start over. Daisy’s life was so much more than what happened at the end. Her death was tragic but her life was not so the focus had to be on the 13 years, 4 months and 2 days she lived on this earth.
Daisy was born in Interlaken, Switzerland on January 1, 2007 ringing in a new year with her arrival. We were “allowed” to purchase Daisy because we were living in a small town outside Geneva at the time and her breeders couldn’t show her (she had faults, namely her tear ducts were blocked). To us, she was just perfect: a Pembroke Welsh Corgi that looked like a chubby little fox. Her name was chosen by our daughter because she loved to eat daises in the spring fields. Read more