Bane Of My Existence

Daisy was the one year old heeler puppy that came with my fifteen year old brother. I was 25. The age where I almost thought I was adult enough to care for a troubled teen and his puppy.

She was a rescue from the shelter, probably not full heeler. Her hair is longer than a typical heeler. She has beautiful markings.

Daisy quickly became the bane of my existence. I had no experience with dogs and she was this untrained, unsocialized chaos that constantly reminded me I wasn't in control.

She was the innocent thing I could project all of the negative emotions I had towards my brother.

I would imagine sending her to a farm where she could get what she needed and I could be free from the extra responsibility.

Still, not one to linger on a problem, I read everything and watched as many you tube videos as I could. I did my best to learn how to care for the puppy as well as a troubled teen.

After a few months with little progress, my husband and I checked my brother into a behavioral hospital. Without his chaos, I was able to see Daisy as just Daisy. A stunning, energetic dog who didn't ask for any of this. She just wanted to love and be loved.

She slept in our room the night we dropped off my brother. She curled in the crook that the inside of my knees made when I slept on my side. Eventually I had to move which meant she had to move. She refused. I pushed her to a different spot and she growled the whole time. A harmless, you're so annoying growl. It was the first time I really let myself see her quirky personality. I couldn't help but laugh.

During the time my brother was in the behavioral hospital, I was able to devote my time to training Daisy properly. Her personality bloomed. Her erratic behaviors calmed as she became more secure in her role.

Now my favorite memory is nearly two years later. I took her to the llake. Going to this lake is almost a weekly occurrence and we developed a routine.

Every time we go to the lake we start by exploring the woods next to it. Then we make our way to the edge of the lake and swim before heading home.

One day we spent more time on the earlier part of the routine, exploring the woods. So I reasoned we could skip the part where we jump into the lake. She was already tired.

We walked to the trail to get back to the car. She refused to follow. She lead me, yard by yard to the part of the lake we jump in. She dragged her tired ass to the edge, jumped in and then jumped right back out.

Only then did she start to make her way back to the car. Now we could go home, the routine was complete.

This memory is my favorite because it shows the change in both of us. She is such a secure and happy dog she will lead me to where she wants to go.

And I am have become so happy and secure as a dog owner that I can follow her. I can understand her language and give her what she needs and wants.

I've come a long way from wishing away this dog, and it shows in her behavior.

Things went sour with my brother and I couldn't continue to care for him. But I kept Daisy, she became my baby. I see her as my gift from a dark period of heart break and grief.

She is pure gold.