Daisy Mae Watson

May 15, 2001-There were a million other things we were supposed to be doing that day. Danny had graduated from law school, secured a job in his hometown, and needed to move his belongings out of Knoxville and back down to middle Georgia. As usual, however, we procrastinated. Looking back, we were probably a little afraid of the "growing up" that awaited us after we crossed the Tennessee-Georgia border, and we were also clinging to the memories and the moments that we shared in that neat university town. It was just one of those days; we needed to move on, but we needed to stand still, too.

I remember going to lunch that afternoon. I couldn't tell you where we ate, but I know exactly what happened next.

We found ourselves amidst the pet adoption madness at PetSmart.

We had talked about getting a dog before, but we'd never settled on when or what kind or where. We just knew we'd like to have a dog. There was no question that we'd be married at some point in the near future, so a dog was the next logical step in our relationship--assuming relationships always have such logical steps. Danny's memory may serve him better than mine, but I am not sure what made us choose that particular day to go in that particular store. Especially since we had a U-Haul trailer attached to the pick-up truck that needed to be loaded within a few hours.

Regardless of the details, I know for a fact that it only took about six minutes for me to make my way to a cage with two little brown and black furballs huddled in it. One of the puppies was named "Lana" and one was named "Olive." They were the cutest sisters you've ever seen. I was able to hold "Lana" and, once I got my hands on her and cuddled her right up to my cheek, Danny Watson looked over at us and knew he was in trouble. He still talks about the two of us and our big, brown, puppy dog eyes. He figured out in a moment's time that he was in love with two girls and made his way over to complete the adoption papers.

We were sad to take "Lana" away from "Olive," but we could only handle one puppy and we knew it. We hoped that some nice family would come and give her a home of her own. I still wonder what ever happened to her.

So, we left that store as pet owners, and we were so, so proud. "Lana" became "Daisy Mae Watson." We even had her tag engraved to say so. She had recently been spayed, so she was still pretty woozy and a little sore. We cradled her like a little baby and were so tender and careful with the new life we'd assumed responsibility for.

We made our way back to Danny's apartment to begin the packing and loading process that we should have started hours before. We had to get that whole apartment in that U-Haul and then drive the 4 1/2 hours to Milledgeville. There wasn't a second to waste.

In an effort to contain our little puppy (who wasn't even trying to move anywhere fast), we put her in the bathroom and closed the door. We sure wouldn't want to lose her on her very first day with us. Her frail little body felt the cool tile beneath her tummy where she'd had surgery, and she proceeded to curl up in the corner between the toilet and the tub where she didn't move a muscle in the few hours it took to get Danny's apartment on wheels.


Once we loaded up, we carefully carried Daisy to the truck. She slept in my lap the entire ride home. Well, except for when she needed to use the potty. You see, when we stopped, we offered her a spot of grass on which to relieve herself, but she never went to the bathroom. We assumed she was still too woozy to have had much water anyway, so we loaded her back up. One of the times, however, she stood up in my lap and walked towards the middle of the truck. There was a change holder there and it must have looked like the perfect puppy toilet because that was where she decided to tee-tee on the ride home! We laughed and laughed and cleaned up the mess with a smile. We knew we had a special little girl in our life.

Once we made it to Milledgeville, we gave Danny's parents quite a surprise with the news of our new "baby." But, just as we had, they fell in love with her almost instantly.


From there, our lives with Daisy took off. Danny built her a special dog run behind Granny's house (where he was living after law school), but we soon discovered that Daisy was not interested in a cooped up life when there was country to explore. She was an outdoors dog from the get-go. She chased squirrels for hours and shelled the pecans from the pecan tree so she could enjoy the tastiness inside. She was such a blast.




While Danny was studying to take the Georgia Bar, Daisy became ill. She had some sort of stomach ailment that wasn't getting better and she wasn't eating or drinking. I vividly remember being on the phone with him one evening while she was sick (I was at home in Atlanta), and he was using a syringe to pour Gatorade in her mouth. That was just the tip of the iceberg on the depth of love Danny has always felt for Daisy. And the feeling was definitely mutual.

The Bar exam was passed, and Daisy grew. She was quite a sight. At one point, she became big enough to get on top of the coffee table and that was where she wanted to be all the time. It was a sad day when she realized she had gotten too big to fit up there anymore.


When Danny decided to practice law in the Air Force, we knew we'd have to move away. We didn't realize that our first base would take us all the way to Alamogordo, New Mexico, but that's where we were. And, we didn't have a lick of grass for miles. Or a fence. Daisy couldn't go with us.

Instead, she stayed with Danny's parents where she was spoiled unimaginably. Papa Joe shared his popcorn with her every night, and she did a fantastic job of running off the deer that threatened his flowers. She knew that road, she knew those hills. It was her home.

We were in New Mexico for two years and we visited home as often as we could. It still makes me chuckle to remember pulling into Mama Janet and Papa Joe's driveway where Daisy would have her wet nose pressed to the door. When Mama Janet relesed that latch and let her out, Daisy would realize who was there and tear off into Danny's arms. Literally. He caught that crazy dog in mid-air more times than I can count! She just loved her Daddy. She had plenty of slobber to share with me, but Danny was her favorite. Must have been the Gatorade.

When it was time for us to move again, we learned that we would be heading to Louisiana. I can't express the excitement we felt to be getting closer to home. Our priority in house-hunting became finding a place with a nice fenced-in yard so our Daisy Mae could reunite with us. And we hit the jackpot.

Many of my favorite memories of Daisy originated in that big, green yard in Louisiana. She ran and played and barked and danced all day and all night. Danny had a garden there, and those two would be out in that garden at the crack of dawn on Saturdays--Danny doing some sort of manual labor and Daisy panting right beside him as she soaked up the sun in the grass. Our sweet neighbors kept treats in their house just for her and I would often hear them talking to her over the fence. She was just a friendly dog who generously shared her water bowl with the birds and tip-toed around Miss Kitty as if that cat were the princess she thinks she is.

One thing is for sure, Danny was Daisy's favorite, but that dog would have fought for me any day of the week. And I knew it. When Danny deployed to Iraq, I can't express the comfort I felt knowing that Daisy would be with me while he was gone. She was all the house alarm I needed. Poor thing was devastated when Danny didn't come back for a few days and then a few weeks, but we got into a routine and we survived. I remember getting down on the floor every night before bed and cuddling with that big ol' sweetheart. I would rub her belly and kiss her face and promise her that her daddy would be back soon. It was around the time that Danny returned when we started noticing a little marble-sized lump on her side that seemed to come and go. We couldn't figure out what it was, but it was so inconsistent that we didn't worry too much about it.

Soon after, it was time to move again. This time, we headed to Texas. Unfortunately, we were spoiled by our yard in Louisiana and couldn't find anything similar in our new destination. But, we found what would work and off we went.

I love recalling the days just before Tyler was born when he would be tumbling around in my stomach while Miss Kitty laid beside me and Daisy laid at my feet. I daydreamed about Tyler playing with them when he arrived and laughed imagining how those two spoiled rotten pets were going to react to another creature in their domain.

Daisy never missed a beat when Ty came home from the hospital. It was like she sensed his importance and would carefully approach him. Sometimes, she would quickly lick his head and then run off. It was precious. She slept in the hall outside his room and, when he would cry, Daisy would come find me. She'd look at me with those big, brown eyes as if to say, "Please go help the baby. He's sad and he needs you." Together, we would make our way to Tyler's room and take care of whatever he needed at the time. As he's gotten bigger, he's learned to seek out Daisy for her licks and kisses, and he giggles like mad every time that slobbery tongue graces his skin. He doesn't even seem to mind her doggy breath.

In March, we took Daisy for her annual exam and shots. The marble we'd felt sporadically before was now ever-present. When Danny asked the doctor about it, he was surprised that we'd even found it. Several tests and an exploratory surgery later, we discovered that Daisy had a cancerous tumor in her abdomen that was the size of a volleyball. It was too big to even tell to which organ it was attached. We were devastated, to say the least.

Despite a prognosis of "one month to live," Daisy trekked on like a trooper. We could hardly tell she was sick until around August. She no longer could eat her hard food and she seemed to be losing weight. In September, she began vomiting if she ate a little too much and the tumor began to take over her entire midsection. By early this month, we were debating what we needed to do.

Daisy went to be with Jesus yesterday afternoon. We asked her to press her nose to the glass door for us so she could run to us when we get there. We can't wait to catch her in mid-air. As I sit here with tears streaming down my face, I can't help but smile knowing that she's probably doing exactly like we asked.

Before she passed, Danny said to her, "You're like Davy Crockett. You made your way from Tennessee to Texas." She sure did. What a full life she lived. What amazing memories she gave us. What a great loss we are feeling.

We love you, Daisy Mae. We miss you more than our words could ever articulate. We love how you've always loved us unconditionally. We thank you for being a part of our lives. We'll never forget your love of the outdoors, your demand for treats, your little paws raising to give us high-fives, the way you adored a squeaky toy, your tail wagging with excitement, and the dance you did when it was time for a walk. You were a special gift. We're so thankful for the seven years we shared with you and only wish we could have shared a few more. Enjoy your walks with Jesus. I'm sure He's got a whole lot of beautiful land to show you. We can't wait to meet you there, sweet girl.

Saying goodbye to Tyler

Daisy with Ty and me in her last hours

There will never be one better...

Daisy Mae Watson

April 1st 2001 ~ October 29, 2008