How I Met Daisy

Ever since I was a baby, there's always been at least one dog in my family. To be truthful, I can't even imagine what it would be like to have to live without a pet. Since I've always had one around, I can only imagine that it would have felt quite empty in the house. So, needless to say, there's a very special place in my heart for dogs.

I've loved every dog I have ever owned, as a pet owner should. Kikko, the first dog I had, was the most gentle black lab you would have ever seen. She would usually just lounge around all day, and wouldn't bark at anything or anyone. Franny was a dog my dad brought home, and being a Chihuahua. she can be rather snippy, but she's also the perfect size for snuggling onto your lap when you're sick and giving you a bit of extra love. And Max is just the perfect definition of a German Shepherd, if you ignore the fact that his ears are floppy.

However, one of the dogs I've owned is much more special than the rest, simply for the fact that, according to everyone in my family, I wished her into existence.

It was the summer of 2012. My family had decided to go for a swim at the high school pool, since it was a nice and warm evening in June. Along the way there, I started to think about my future. I've no idea what business a ten year old had to be thinking about that when we were heading to the pool, but that's what my mind was stuck on.

As I swam, I thought about everything I wanted in life. I wanted a big house, and I wanted to live off in the mountains. I wanted so much land, that I just didn't know what to do with it all. But, having grown up with dogs, I eventually came to the question of what kind of dog I wanted.

Maybe a husky? No, they were beautiful, but loud and they shed a ton. Then maybe a Great Dane? It would be nice to have a dog half my size...but there's also the logistics of, you know...dealing with a dog half the size of a grown man.

I remember the moment I had my epiphany as if it were yesterday. We were walking out of the building, our towels around our waists as we made our way to the parking lot. The sky above the mountains was a brilliant red, and there was a faint scent of smoke from a distant forest fire. It hit me halfway to the car - I wanted a golden labrador.

It was oddly specific, but, I had heard that they were absolute angels, and they were energetic and fun. So, I solidified the thought in my mind. When I grew up, I wanted a golden lab.

My family climbed in the car, and being ten, I wanted to share my whole thought process with my mom. I told her about the house I wanted, and where I wanted it. I finished off with, "Oh, and I want a golden labrador!" She simply replied that she wa impressed I knew exactly what I wanted in the future, and we began the short drive home.

It got dark fairly quickly, so the road by my house was already very dimly lit. I watched out the windshield, having nothing else to do. Then, I just so happened to glance to the left. I saw something emerge from the brush beside the road, and after recognizing that it was dog-shaped, I sat up quickly and yell, "Dog!"

My mom brought the car to a screeching halt. We sat in the car for a moment or two, the entire car having gone dead quiet, save for the soft music playing from the radio. I jumped out of the car with my mom and walk around to the front, expecting the worst. Standing in the bright headlights, happily panting away and completely unharmed, was a gold labrador, looking back and forth between my mom and I. We couldn't just let the poor thing continue to roam, especially after almost hitting her. So, we loaded her into the back of the car, and made our way back home.

I instantly fell in love with her. Sure, I loved Kikko and Franny, but Kikko was old and rather rotund, and Franny was just so small, that I had never gotten the chance to even play fetch with a dog before. She played, she ran with me, she'd jump up on me, and she'd chase our chickens. I adored this labrador.

It was a few days later, and my parents were still working on trying to find her owner. I was sitting on the couch, gently petting this sweet dog. I thought, "We haven't had any luck finding her owners yet. Perhaps it's time to start thinking of names for her." I looked down at her big brown eyes. I knew that my brothers had been arguing over names, but I had never gotten involved. But I had a name of my own for her. I asked her, "How does Daisy sound?"

I know many people say dogs don't have emotions or whatever, because they're animals. But I specifically remember her tail wagging and that she gave me a big doggy smile.

It's been ten years, and as I write this, Daisy is resting being my chair, snoring away. Every day, she acts as happy as the day I first saw her. And honestly? The week that we met her is a memory I will cherish for the rest of my life.