by Dale Reeves
Story Pastor
The date was February 3, 2009, when a litter of schnauzers was born just west of Troy, Ohio. A few months later, my wife and our daughters drove north of Dayton and picked out this tiny little salt-and-pepper furball, the runt of the litter. She would become our little Daisy Mae. Four years ago, we thought she might be crossing the “rainbow bridge” when a tumor that extended much of the length of her little body was removed, along with her spleen. After the surgery that took place in the summer of 2020, one of the vets at Mason Animal Hospital told us, “I think we’ve bought Daisy another year or so.” Well, she outlived that prediction!
Yesterday afternoon, at the ripe age of 15½, we had to put our little girl down, this precious gift that provided our family much happiness, solace, steadfast companionship—and a few challenges along the way. If you’ve ever been a dog or cat person, you know how they become such an integral part of your family. My wife and I were with her when we said our last goodbyes, then we took her home, and I buried her under the swing set that our two daughters played on, and now our four grandkids call their clubhouse. It’s an appropriate final resting place for her, because she has always loved our babies and has been the best companion. Would you indulge me today as I share a few of Daisy’s best traits, and some of the lessons God taught me through the wonderful years we enjoyed with our girl?
A Smart Lover
We knew early on that our Daisy was a pretty smart girl. In July 2010, my wife Karen enrolled her in obedience school at the “Cincinnati Canine Companion Center” in Loveland. She got a perfect attendance ribbon, and Karen earned a ribbon for “best handler.” Once when Karen was out of town, and I had to take her to her class, the ex-military trainer looked at me and Daisy’s pink leash and said, “She knows you’re not in charge!” I quickly replied, “But you have to admit she’s pretty stinkin’ cute!” He chuckled.
There she was in the midst of some Dobermans, boxers, and other larger breeds, holding her own. And, when the jumping hurdles came out, she literally couldn’t wait to run and jump over the hurdles before the larger dogs could complete them. She enjoyed the obedience training so much, that after a few attempts to run away from our yard, Karen enrolled her again. The trainer there said, “The smartest dogs are the toughest ones to train!”
If you’re a dog person, then you know they have a sixth sense. She could tell when someone needed some extra TLC. She loved taking Sunday afternoon naps with me in the winter in front of our wood-burning fireplace. She loved lying on the couch and snuggling with my wife when she needed a good snooze on the weekend. When I was recovering from some surgery, she was right there by my side. When our girls left our house and got married, she loved whenever they returned with their husbands and she could snuggle up with them on the couch. And, oh, how she loved her groomer Donna! She would get excited as we turned down the street that Donna lived on, which was a half-hour drive away.
A Loyal Protector
Karen and I have had three schnauzers in our thirty-nine years of married life: Sadie, who died pretty young; Molly, who was very loyal, and died of renal failure at the age of ten; and Daisy who has been our biggest “lover.” We always joked about Daisy’s inability to protect us. If a potential robber had come to the door, petted her, and offered her a treat, she would bark and invite him to come on in and take whatever he wanted—as long as she felt the love. But there was no question about her loyalty. She proudly sported her Christmas, Reds, Bearcats, and Bengals bandannas—depending on the appropriate season.
When it came to the grandkids, Daisy was the older sister and protector. She has always been great with our girls and our grandkids—especially the babies. There is one grandson that she growled at because he might have chased her around a few too many times, but when it came to the babies, she wanted to be right there hovering over them to see why they might be crying. She wanted to know that everything was OK. Even just a week ago, when she couldn’t see or hear very well, and was exhibiting many signs of dementia, she was desperately trying to get near the dollhouse our grandkids were playing with. She even got her body inside the dollhouse just so she could be near them. We wondered if she sensed that her time with them was coming to a close.
“A man of many companions may come to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother” (Proverbs 18:24, ESV).
Saying Goodbye
The past few days, each of our daughters, sons-in-law, and grandkids took the opportunity to come to our house and give Daisy some last hugs and kisses, sharing their tears with us, and creating some memories that will live on in their hearts. We felt it was very important for them to do this. In the helpful book, The Grief Recovery Handbook for Pet Loss, the authors share these words:
“Feeling bad or sad is the normal and natural emotional reaction to the death of a pet. . . . Your grief is about the one-of-a-kind relationship you had with your pet. When your pet dies, everything familiar for you changes, and with that comes a wide range of emotions as your heart and brain struggle to accommodate the overwhelming feelings of loss.”
As a Grief Recovery Method specialist, I am fully aware that not only do I need to process my own grief over Daisy, but that this is also one of the first touches with death that our grandkids have experienced. For that reason, we were very intentional in allowing them to say their goodbyes and talk about what a good girl Daisy was to them. I’ve spent a few days reminiscing with some of my favorite memories of Daisy—traveling with us for the holidays; playing in the snow; having Daisy follow our four grandkids around our kitchen island as I led the “poop parade”; trying to run away from us; and chasing after the kids in our backyard while they tried to avoid the little bombs she left in the yard. It’s been good to browse through the wonderful pictures of Daisy that we all have saved on our phones.
Thank you, Daisy girl, for your brilliance, your zest for life, your willing acceptance of all who entered our home, and the joy and tender loving care you brought into our lives the past fifteen years. You have been one of God’s great blessings in our home! We will miss you, but your memories will live on in our hearts.
“With my great power and outstretched arm I made the earth and its people and the animals that are on it, and I give it to anyone I please” (Jeremiah 27:5, NIV).