"Loves Me Not, Loves Me"
~How Daisy and We Found Each Other
For Daisy Mae
[03-01-1992--03-04-2006]
by Phyllis Travis. copyright © 2006

On a warm Saturday morning in September, 1992, Peter, 3-year-old Corey, and I went down to the Farmer's Market in Pasco to check it out and maybe buy some crisp Washington apples. We had moved to Richland a year before and this was our first time at the famed Farmer's Market.
As we walked down a street near the edge of the market, unusual because there were so few people on it, we saw a woman sitting in a folding chair next to a pick-up truck, with a cardboard box on her lap, and a tiny white puppy in her hands. We had been playing with the idea of getting a dog for a couple of months now. Corey and I had made our decision long before, but we hadn't been able to convince Peter yet. He didn't particularly like dogs and was content without the responsibility of caring for a pet, but we strolled over to take a look anyway. A sheet of cardboard at the lady's feet read, "Maltese puppy, $400" We hadn't thought about getting a purebred dog and we definitely hadn't thought about spending $400 on one, but I asked anyway about how old he was and about the parents. Then I asked, "Do you have his papers?" "Papers?" she echoed. Like they had just been invented and she wasn't familiar with them.. "I don't have papers, but both parents are AKC dogs." That would be surprising if that were true, and she had come out to an open market where she had no brick and mortar store a buyer could return to, and say that the dog was purebred but not have any papers at all. "You're asking $400 for a dog without papers?" I queried. If the thought had crossed my mind that maybe we might consider, just to think about, perhaps contemplate, the possibility of buying him that day, it disappeared with the missing papers.
While we were discussing this improbable pedigree, a woman approached us and stood next to me . "I couldn't help overhearing," she said. "I found a dog just like that and I can't keep her. Maybe you would like to take her?"
Wow, this was getting serious. Now we were really talking about the actual possibility of taking home a real dog today. I wasn't sure that would go over well with Peter.
The woman continued, "I live on a farm and she's chasing my pheasants. I really can't keep her. I already have 3 dogs but they are outside dogs. This one should be inside, sitting on someone's lap. She wandered into my yard about a week ago and I can't find her owner. She had no collar. I put ads up in the 2 local supermarkets and at the churches, but nobody's called. I think someone just didn't want her and drove her out here and left her. If I can't find someone to take her, I'll have to have her put to sleep and I'd really hate to do that. She's such a friendly, cute little thing."
Okay, Corey and I were sold. We were nearly jumping up and down on the street with excitement. I was expecting Peter to firmly and unequivocally say "No!" But he didn't say anything..
"Are you almost done shopping here? I could give you directions to my house and you could come out and take a look at her if you want to."
"We want to, we want to!" I wanted to shout. But I calmly turned to Peter and said, "This sounds perfect for us. Let's go take a look."
He frowned. "You know it's not taking a look. If you take a look you won't leave without her. I know you."
Corey had been strangely quiet and patient through this whole procedure but now was begging, "Please Daddy, please? Can we? Can we have her? I need a doggy. Please?"
I'll never know what changed inside his head, but Peter looked straight at the woman now and said, "Okay. Tell me how to get to your house."
Now I was nervous. Was I really ready to take care of a pet? Every day? To make sure she had food and grooming was easy. But I was working full time and was always tired. It was hard enough to find energy to play with Corey when I got home from work. Would I manage to play with a dog too? Would I be willing to take her out on walks? Every day, not just when I felt like it? What if she wasn't cute and friendly like the woman said? What if we didn't like her? What if she didn't like us? What if we took her home and we didn't like each other? Then I realized that whatever happened with us would be better than the future she faced now.
When we got to the lady's house, she was sitting on her screened porch holding the dog. She got up as soon as she saw our car and carried her over to us. We all got out of the car for a minute while she handed the dog into my arms and went back into the house to give us her dog food. This poor bedraggled baby was badly in need of grooming, more gray than white, with a light dusting of tan fur along her spine. Her fur was tangled and long and she was trembling. I looked into her face and our eyes met. I saw a sweet little angel who was scared, lost and lonely and hoping that we would take care of her and love her and keep her with us always. I pulled her close and held her against me as I lowered myself into the car. I gently stroked her as we headed home, and silently promised her that I would be the best mommy that I could possibly be .
The lady had been calling her Rosie, but there was something about her that was a bit defiant, some survivor instinct, a stubborn will to live that made the rose seem too elegant for her street-wise attitude. We named her Daisy and later stretched it into Daisy Mae. And that's the miracle of how we found Daisy and brought her home and began a love 14-years ago that continues even now, after her death, and will be with me and with Peter and with Corey for the rest of our lives. The beginning of a powerful love between a happy, silly, funny, smart little angel , a gift from God, a blessing in our lives, who gave back a hundredfold anything she ever took from us,and the wounded, transplanted family in need of the love and devotion only a dog can give.
I can't imagine my life without having had Daisy in it. She taught me so much about love, giving, patience, tolerance, hope. Sometimes I wonder about how much we would have missed if we hadn't gone to the Farmers" Market that day, gone down that near-empty street just when we did, gone over to see the puppy the first woman had taken out of the box, and spoken loudly enough for the second woman to hear and to come speak to us. But I realize that it was not possible for those things not to have happened. We were all put together on that street that day in order to get Daisy to her rightful family. The day could not have unfolded any other way.