Remodel Shock

I really wish we could have foreseen her reaction. Filming the Daisy Mae and her first glimpse of the kitchen in midst of being remodeled after sleeping through all of our work one day, it would have been a hit video on the web.

You know the saying, “Let sleeping dogs lie?”

Well, we did. All day she slept. Totally oblivious to the noises from the next room. She’d had breakfast, been outside and was not having to fight humans or fellow furry four leggers for room on the couch. She dozed, a lot. I do recall a few water breaks and outside time, but you know I don’t think she really paid us much attention.

We finished up the days work. I mean, we had had furniture moved and had painted the living room the day before, so things were exactly “normal.” Nor had they been for a couple of days. So we really didn’t think anything of preparing Daisy Mae for any sudden change in decor or room arrangement, but we wanted to clean up a bit and straighten, you know prep for the next day by getting the finished projects that day out of the way.

Then my husband and I start getting supper ready. Somewhere around mid meal preparation, the odor of cooking food brings the vegged out English Bull Dog alive! She decides it is time to saunter in the kitchen, be all cute, and see if she can snag so taste testing nibbles out of us.

She gets in the kitchen – just past the doorway. We are talking all four feet on the flour. We hear the toenails on the linoleum. For some reason we all look over at her. She looks up and around the kitchen and no lie – she was STARTLED! Up in the air went the less than petite girl. All four paws and legs fly out from underneath her as she just drops, belly to the floor.

The husband, the daughter and I all look at each other and then her. She’s still laying there. Eyes closed. Then we rush in to check on her. Is she breathing? Did we scare the life out of her literally?

She opens her eyes, it seems like one at a time, checking the to see if she really saw what she saw. Timidly she opens them both and as my husband reaches down to pet her, she pops up, ready for some puppy love. She gave what I imagined was a critical glance about the room. Wondering, I guess where her food and water bowl were. My husband baby talked to her, showing her that her bowls were all still there. We hadn’t really changed where she ate and drank. That was it, she was good.


Fickle Relationships

Each morning during my coffee ministrations a reluctant Daisy Mae, in disbelief of day break, slowly saunters in the kitchen squinting her eyes in rejection of morning. She waits patiently for me to acknowledge her presence; if not quick enough she sighs heavily as her patience wains. Checking her water bowl’s level to fill, when I prepare her food during her morning airing, I make my way around her to the back door.

She waddles over to the back door and stands, sighing in preparation to meet the outdoors, yet again. She stays back from the door’s swing inward and won’t move forward until the storm dorm is swung outward far enough that she can see the yard before her. Taking only as many steps as necessary to feel the air temperature waft into the room, she waits to judge the weather and temperature. This may take a few minutes for her to decide if they meet her requirements.

Daisy Mae’s weather and temperature requirements are quite specific. It cannot be too cold, or warm. She prefers a nice sun shiny day over cloudy, even with the right temperature. The right combination can have her suddenly rush forward playfully, happy for the day. Others, those so far from her favored conditions they are reduced to a snort, she turns from the door and plods back to bed.

My dog experience had been quite limited until Daisy Mae. Never had a pooch that would go back to bed without me. But, Daisy will do just that. This very morning with the temperature in the mid thirties, sun shining brightly was not approved. She stopped mid way through the kitchen.

Grabbing my coffee as I made my way around her standing in the kitchen, I sat to enjoy my morning cup of joe on the recliner. Daisy decided to come join me, but seeing there was not enough room with me, the cup and the journal across my lap was just too much. She walked past the empty couch, blanket on the floor and went back to bed.

There is a huffing sound coming from the bedroom as she hoists herself on to the trunk at the foot of the bed, her self appointed step-stool. Just to be sure, I sneak back to see where she was. Yep, she is back asleep on the bed.


So, I could be running errands today, and may still, but I won’t be out and about alone, if I go.
My son’s dog, Daisy Mae, is frightened by storms. This knowledge was somewhere in the back of my brain, but it wasn’t exactly first hand knowledge as to how badly storms scared her, not until some time between 2 and 3 a.m.

There was a very loud, BOOM! The thunderclap sounded like it was outside the window. It could have been over the house, around the house, next door, doesn’t matter where it came from, it came. It woke me up, or rather it woke Daisy, who in turn woke me.

Before we went to bed my feet were cold, this was mentioned aloud by me to Daisy. As in, “If you’d like to sleep on my feet, I’d like that, my feet are cold, Daisy.” A few minutes after closing my eyes, my feet felt something heavy on them. Raising my head up to look down at a furry white and black blob half on and mostly next to my feet; I petted her and told her thanks before laying back down.

Then that loud noise woke either one or both of us up. Daisy Mae moved close to my face, her hot breath on my cheek wouldn’t have allowed me to sleep through the storm, and she just sat there on the bed, breathing on me. The next boom wasn’t quite so intense, but she moved closer still, nearly sitting on my chest.

I patted her head and coo’d to her like you would a child. In a few minutes she snuggled down right up against me. We eventually both feel back asleep and woke late in the morning.

Now with coffee, contemplating the day and what needs to be done, it is very apparent just how frightened Daisy Mae is. She hasn’t let me leave her in a room alone. She wouldn’t go outside by herself either. Only when she saw me pick up the laptop to write did she decided that my position was permanent enough she could curl up on the couch and try to catchup on the sleep she lost last night, staying within arms reach.

So whatever I do today, she will be with me. If any errands are run, she is running them with me. We have a forecast of scattered storms today, and since there isn’t anything pressing to be done that precludes an unwelcome dog, it just doesn’t seem right to make her stay home alone in stormy weather.

Daisy Mae and Me

Daisy Mae and I have coexisted for several years now. Daisy is much more easy going than I am, but even she has her limits. Every so often I discover the location of those limits.

Lately, Daisy and I have been morning the loss of our companion, Robin, my dog that crossed the bridge last month. She seems to sense when I am missing my lab mix and gets as close to me as she can and kisses me.

Daisy’s kisses aren’t the typical dog slobbering lick that many dogs do. Not that she doesn’t lick, but that’s licking. Her kisses are daintier and intentional; they are a delicate touch of her mouth to my mouth or face. If either is out of reach she will paw me to bend closer.

When it seems to me she is missing her big sister, she gets as close as possible to me. Meaning that close could be the same thing as standing on top of me, whether I am sitting, laying, or even standing. Standing with an English Bull Dog’s paw on your foot means something, not always sure I understand what it means. All this being on top of me started after Robin’s passing.

Could be wrong. But right now she is laying next to me on the loveseat, snoring away. She’s moved from room to room with me today. This is a new thing, she did’t always follow me. That was Robin’s responsibility. If Daisy Mae was comfortable and my activities took me to another room, she might acknowledge my leave taking or return by raising her head, but she didn’t get up and follow me around.

In the last few weeks, without Robin here, she has begun to take on the role of my companion. Each passing day, she makes her location the same room as mine, if not within arms reach. The later is slowing becoming more common than not.


While my daughter was gone on vacation, Daisy Mae and me spent all our time together. Ok, so, it was Daisy Mae who spent all her time with me.

Normally, when my agenda has me out and about, Daisy has the companionship of her guardian. My presence is merely is as a substitute companion when her guardian is at work. My place on the order of Daisy’s importance is third.

During the absence of her guardian, my presence was priority. My absence during this week left me with the assignment of being slept on. Luckily, it was generally Daisy Mae on my feet, though most nights she placed herself between me and the edge of the bed.

If Daisy could have attached herself to my hip during the dreaded “Vacation Disappearance of The Guardian,” it would have happened. Now that the vacation is over, and her number two has returned, my demotion is obvious.

When the guardian left for work, Daisy Mae was found laying in the entry in front of the door the guardian had left by. Yeah, I am feeling the love.