I hate leaving my dog. It kills me to hear her cry when I leave. I hate putting her in her kennel. I let her sleep in my bed. I count down the clock around 1:30p M-F because I know that in roughly 2 hours and 15 minutes, I will be getting kisses on my face from her.
Daisy has become like my child. My furry, sweet, stinky-breathed girl.
My sweet 8.8 lbs angel-face was spayed on Monday. She is so little to begin with so the anesthesia that they put her under took a toll on her tiny body. She was absolutely lifeless on Monday. She could barely lift her head and wouldn't even look at me. It took her almost a day to even want to eat. I don't know if she even really had an appetite, but she ate a little on Tuesday. She would just shake so bad and I couldn't stop it. It was breaking my heart. I just held her and cried on Wednesday night. I begged Heavenly Father to please just make her feel better. After about 5 minutes of my pleading with Heavenly Father, she stopped the shaking. It was just such a relief that her little body wasn't trembling anymore.
It made me so sad that she couldn't tell me where she hurt. I just watched her being pitiful and all I could do was try to love on her to make her feel better.
I never truly understood how dogs were supposedly man's best friend. Not until now.
I am Daisy's world. Her face lights up when I come home.
Cats don't really do that. Yeah, they like to be petted and they like to rub up against you, but they don't really come when called. They just want you to feed them and brush them and clean up their pee and poop. I guess you could say that they are rather selfish little creatures.
Dogs are not like that. They want you to do all that and play with them and snuggle with them and walk with them.
I came home from work today and went to go get Daisyhead from Mama and Dad's house aka Buckingham Palace. I noticed that I did not hear any crying or barking. Something HAD to be wrong. When I opened the door, I observed her kennel door open and my little escapee on my bed. She had gotten out and made 4 puppy size turds on my floor. She knew she had done bad, but to see how happy she was when I opened my door, well, you just can't even be mad at that. I cleaned it up and told her she had done a bad thing but I was glad it was on the floor and not on my $300 bedspread.
She has that power over me and I just can't even hate on it. I love that little scruffy girl.
