I can’t think how to say how much I miss Daisy. I must have thought about her hundreds of times in the past three weeks and still can’t believe that she’s not here any more; not going to be waiting for me when I come home; not running down the corridor to the flat when she smells that I’ve arrived home since Delphine took her out for a walk; not taking up more than half the bed and snoring like a trooper.
I have only happy memories of our time with her: playing in the snow, which she loved so much; her rolling in the sand at the beach; falling into a rock pool in Scotland when she was a little puppy; barking in the garden at Gowlett Road when she thought Wendy and I had both left for work.
She was always pleased to see people she knew, genuinely delighted. She loved people and people loved her, and I miss her more than anything.
This picture was taken the weekend before she died; you can she she was an old doggie – her eye is almost closed with conjunctivitis so she didn’t see so well, and she was almost deaf; but she was still happy and contented.
I loved her more than I ever thought it possible to love any animal.
Thankyou very much to everyone who wrote expressing your kind thoughts, it was very good of you all to do so. As Lynne said, it’s a moment we’re fated to pass through from that very first day with that new puppy. You know it’s going to come one day, you know it’s going to hurt, but the years you have before it are so great – for both you and that dog – that you go through with it all.
For me, Daisy was so poorly three years ago when she had her heart and lung problems that I’ve been dreading this day ever since then. In a way, I was prepared for and expecting it – every single extra day with her was a bonus and I’m glad we all had those days.
Her parting was hard but the memories are strong and good and happy.
Bye bye Miss, we all love you.