Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Guest Blogger: Daisy
Mommy tells me that a lot of people who read her blog want me to share my story with them.
Is Mommy crazy? I don’t smell anybody in this box. You can’t be real, can you? You’re not even like the people in the television. At least I can see them, but since I can’t smell them, they are not real. I don’t understand why Mommy, Daddy, and my two Brothers stare at the thing so much. Where are the wonderful, interesting smells?
The first smell of my human family was heavenly. I still lived with my dog mommy, but she wouldn’t let me have her milk anymore and most of my brothers and sisters had gone away. So sad. I loved bossing them around. But one night, Spirit Dog came to me, and he smelled like Heaven. I’ll never forget our talk because he smelled so so good.
He said, “You are about to join my human family, Daisy.”
“Who is Daisy?” I asked.
“You are Daisy. Your human family has already named you even though they haven’t met you yet. They have seen a picture of you and they love you.”
“Of course they love me!” I said. “I’m adorable. Everybody says so.”
“That’s right, Daisy. Now listen to me. Your new family is very special. I lived with them for 13 years. I had to leave, and now they are very, very sad. It’s your job to help them heal. Especially Daddy because he hurts the most. It’s a big responsibility and will be scary at first, but you are a golden retriever and were made to love people, just like I was. I picked you to love my family because you will do a very good job. God agrees. They need you.”
“I’m scared. I don’t know them. What if they smell funny?”
“They smell great, so don’t worry about that. Change is scary, though, and leaving your dog mommy will be hard. I want you to know that you will be okay. Just love them. It won’t be hard once you start because they are really very special. Any time you get sad, just present your glorious butt to Mommy, and she’ll scratch it. Trust me. Her butt scratches make everything wonderful. Oh, and try not to eat too much carpet. For some reason, they don’t like that very much.”
Then, Spirit Dog went away, leaving a bit of the smell of Heaven behind to help me fall asleep.
The next morning, I was glad that Spirit Dog had given me a heads-up because things started changing very quickly. A woman came and took me on a long car ride to her house. She gave me a bath and trimmed my claws even though I growled at her and tried to make her stop. Why is no one afraid of me? I have teeth. Grrrrr. Be afraid. Grrrrrrrrrr. Are you afraid?
Somehow, it just doesn’t work for me, does it? The schnauzers at the end of the street growl and scare me. But no one is afraid when I growl.
That’s one of the many things I don’t understand.
Anyway, that night, Spirit Dog’s human family picked me up at the woman’s house. Even though Spirit Dog said they were nice, I was scared and unhappy. I made lots of noise in the car and in the crate that night. They laughed at me and petted me. Why did they laugh? The petting was nice, though. When I kept making noises instead of sleeping in my crate, Daddy got out of bed and slept on the floor with his fingers sticking through the crate door. I gnawed on them. That helped.
Those first days with my family were very confusing. I didn’t know the rules so they were very patient with me. For some reason, I had to go outside to poop and pee, but there were so many cool smells outside that sometimes, I would forget to do my business.
Also, they got upset when I chewed on things. Every time I would find a sock or napkin or piece of furniture to chew, they said, “NO!” and handed me a bone or rope or stuffed toy. I kept forgetting that the Spirit Dog said not to chew the carpet so Mommy sprayed stuff all over it. It tasted bad. I eventually got the point but still say that chair legs and carpet make the best chew toys.
I’ve learned a lot, but there are so many things that don’t make sense to me.
Why won’t Mom let me lick the smelly stuff she rubs on her hands?
Why do I dig before lying down to go to sleep? This makes no sense but I have to do it anyway.
My butt occasionally slips off the bed or sofa. Why do Mommy and Daddy laugh when this happens?
Why does my ball roll away from me?
Why can’t I dig holes in the yard?
Why does my gloriously furry butt need to be brushed? Bad brush! Stay away from my butt!
Why do people yell when I paw them in the crotch?
Who is the dog in the glass? She's beautiful but I can't smell her.
Why does my knee hurt so much? One morning at the Place of Many Strange Smells, I went to sleep feeling just fine and woke up with pain in my knee. I suspect it has something to do with that nice man who wears funny clothes and looks at my teeth, but I can’t prove it.
Why do they yell when I eat food off the kitchen counter? What else is food for?
Why does Mommy take my collar off and throw it beside the crate at night? I stare at it and contemplate the sadness of collar separation. I love how the tags jingle.
Why doesn’t Mommy let me lick the soap scum in the shower? You’d think she would appreciate the help.
Why can’t I eat grass, leaves, socks, paper, shoe laces, underwear, bottle caps, legos, stuffed animals, mulch, and dish cloths? WHY???
I’m starting to suspect that God gave me a big heart, glorious golden fur, and a little brain for a reason. Spirit Dog said it would be easy to love my human family, and he was right. Daddy isn’t sad anymore (which makes me feel like a good and useful dog), Mommy gives the best butt scratches in the world, Big Brother is an AWESOME play toy, and Little Brother rubs my ears. Life is good. Very good.
I may not have a lot of answers to my questions, but I do have a lot of love. And I give it as freely as I give my glorious golden fur because I am a good dog.
Perhaps if you let me smell you, I’ll share some love and fur with you, too. Until then, I’ll just take Mommy’s word for it that you exist. You gotta trust a person who gives butt scratches like she does.