We recently lost our yellow lab (8/4/2010 -11-/2/2024). Her name was Daizy with a Z since she was born in the summer, we wanted to name her after a flower.
In the third week of August 2010, we tragically lost our 4-year-old Newfie mix, and when we learned Labrador puppies would be available soon, we drove to the country to meet them, where we were greeted by leaping labs into our back seat when we opened the sliding van door. We were led to the barn, where the litter was in a stable. A beautiful assortment of yellow, black, and chocolate puppies, rolling and tumbling at our feet. They each had a different color yarn collar. A few were already spoken for, but we picked them up and delighted in that sweet puppy smell.
It was intoxicating! Each had soft, loose skin, plump bodies, cute faces, and irresistible puppy breath! We were under their spell.
Curiously, I researched “the puppy smell.” According to Dr. Chris Brown, the distinct puppy breath is the milk in their tummy (FPMB) fermented puppy milk burps. (It's too bad it doesn’t last; that all changes when they start eating dog food.)
After the breeder put the puppies back in their stable, one little puppy kept coming back out to us. We’ve heard dogs choose us, and when her persistence kept reappearing from the door, we believe she did pick us.
Over our years with her, I wanted to share a few things she did.
Squirrel was a trigger word! In her younger days, she stood guard at the window watching the bird feeders. The squirrels mocked her face-to-face with the glass between them as they taunted her from the windowsill.
When she became geriatric, we broke our rules for begging at the table. She patiently waited for her morsel.
Even though she had a deep bark, she was the gentlest soul, especially around children, and she never once growled at anyone. If anything, she demanded attention, even from a stranger, rolling on her back for a belly rub, which meant “friends for life.”
Bedtime was interesting for most of her years. She slept between us in a full-size bed. And when Michael worked nights and slept days, she slept alongside him. When she was 11, she couldn’t jump up anymore, which ended the cuddle time.
Her ears perked up at the mention of a walk; she picked up her head around the corner as if to say, did someone say walk? We made the mistake of saying walk too soon because she barked to hurry us along, outfitting for the weather. Then we spelled w-a-l-k, but she figured that out! Then we said, let’s go for a W, and again, her enthusiasm ensued.
Whatever we did, she needed to be right beside us. After Michael retired and was home more, she couldn’t decide how to divide her time between us.
She did not like closed doors. Usually, doors wouldn’t latch all the way, making her barge-in easier. She did not need to come in; she just wanted to know where we were. Unfortunately, we could never teach her to close the door behind her.
Daizy will be missed, and life will be lonely without her.
Life with a pet is rewarding, but it is sad when they leave us; it helps to remember the things about them that made you smile or laugh. What is a happy or funny story you remember about your pet?
