The next afternoon
I drove back to the couple’s apartment. Almost a mom answered the door
and pointed to the shaggy white dog with the eclectic gray spots.
“Her name is Daisy” she informed me. And as I picked up Daisy the
young woman began to cry, in between sobs saying her goodbyes. I didn’t
know how to feel outside of my throat tightening, and I made haste so that I
might not join in on the tear-fest.
To be honest, given the choice I would have picked the other dog … grayer
…and definitely more symmetrical spot wise. And “Daisy”? What
kind of a name is THAT for our first pooch? My grandmother’s name was
“Daisy” and she certainly was not an entirely pleasant person.
When the two of us got to our apartment I called Yvonne and told her I had brought
somebody home to live with us. At first she didn’t seem to like the idea.
In fact, she got quiet enough I think she might have been getting angry. So
I said, “Her name is Daisy” and fortunately my new wife was perceptive
enough to assume it might be a dog. Suffice it to say that after just 6 weeks
of marital bliss the woman knew me well enough to know I hadn’t invited
Grandma into our household. And of course once they met she and Daisy fell in
love with each other.
Being 9 months old, Daisy had lived all her young days playing with her sister.
And at first she certainly had separation anxiety issues. She missed her sibling;
it was obvious in her doggie demeanor.
My day job was a driving a VW Microbus for what was then called The Franklin
County Crippled Children’s School. Easter Seals’ School is what
it’s rightfully titled now. I had three runs a day, taking pre-school
handicapped kids back and forth to their special kind of ABC’s. They all
called me Mistah Wick…or Mister Rick depending on their speaking skills.
In between runs I could go home, and this helped some salving Daisy’s
anxiety. Still, she did not enjoy being alone and soon began turning the kitchen
trash container on its’ side and spreading the contents around our apartment
… not a tranquil sight to come home to. We did our best to “Daisy
– proof” our place. But we soon learned a valuable fact: this dog
was VERY clever.
In what seemed to be no time at all, the dog taught herself how to open the
lower kitchen cabinets. At first I’d come in and see her just standing
there wagging her proud tale as if saying “Nanner nanner!! Look what I
did!” Most of the cupboards would be standing open. Initially I marveled
at Daisy’s creativity and laughed it off.
That is, until “The Salad Bowl Incident”.
One day I came home from my final run of the day, opened the door, and again
there she was … a waggin’ and seemingly smiling. Except this time,
not only were the cupboards open but there on the kitchen floor … in the
middle of the kitchen floor … laid what was left of
one of our wedding gifts: a wooden salad bowl set. Daisy had chewed almost every
piece. The spoon and fork especially, were covered in doggie teeth marks. And
although she appeared quite proud of herself, I severely lost my temper. (I
used to have one back then!)
I picked up the chewed salad spoon and began “spanking” Daisy with
it. Not viciously mind you … but a few whacks out of frustration. Daisy
was having none of this … and I can’t say as I blamed her. She saw
an opening and darted out the still open front door to escape.
I called out “DAISY!” and looked and looked for a couple hours.
I was dreading the worst and my guilt was enormous. Just before giving up and
resigning myself to a life of self-hatred, I heard a “grrrrrrrrr …
grrrrrrrrrr … grrrrrr!” and there she was, hunched on a small
rise in a wooded area, head low to the ground and butt high in the air. I was
relieved.
So I began sauntering over to her, sensing a negotiation was about to transpire.
“Daisy, you had me so worried!”
“Grrrrrrr … grrrrrrr!” she replied softly.
“I am SO SORRY I hit you with the salad spoon.”
“Grrrrrr … grrrrrr!”
Having never negotiated with a canine before, my mind was trying to grasp some
four-legged logic.
“Tell ya what.” I said, “If you come home with me now we’ll
forget this ever happened and I will never hit you again … promise.”
And that was that.
Now I know some of you aren’t buying this but hey! I was there. And it
happened.
As we walked back to what was now officially home to all three of us,
I had an epiphany … perhaps a solution to her anxiety.
Take Daisy on the Microbus with me!
Beginning the very next morning she rode in the front passenger seat while adoring
handicapped kids laughed and talked to her.
I was now driving what these cherubic children dubbed “The Daisy Bus”.
Now I didn’t ask anybody whether this was okay or not. And when the authority
figures saw how the kids loved the dog, how they WANTED to get on the bus …
well … what could they say? Soon enough she had the run of the building
as well. No one minded, except for a few insecure teachers who seemed jealous
of Daisy. And every morning the receptionist would give her a WHOLE jelly doughnut.
She never offered me one … just the dog.
Everything was quite harmonious for some time. Fall became winter and winter
became spring.
That is, until “The Carpet Incident”.
A little more than a week before the big Easter Seal Campaign, to spruce the
place up, brand new wall-to-wall carpeting was put in the therapy room of the
school. This was the biggest fundraiser of the year. Local sports celebrity
and philanthropist Jimmy Crum was going to be there. Two-time Heisman Trophy
winner Archie Griffin was going to be there. We were all encouraged to wear
“Buckeye Gear”. VERY BIG DEAL in Columbus, Ohio.
A few days before the event, I dropped the morning kids off and Daisy and I
waltzed into the building. She took off for parts unknown. I paid little attention.
She was used to visiting people in classrooms or whatever.
But soon enough I heard the shrieks. Remember those teachers I mentioned earlier?
The ones who were jealous of Daisy? They came running up to me, faces bright
red with anger, and said, “Your DAWWWWWG just took a big CRAAAAAP on the
new therapy room carpet!!!”
I went to check out the damage. And you know what? Giving a dog an entire jelly
doughnut every morning does not translate into firm, easy to clean up dog poop.
Not in the very least. It was a mess.
So these teachers finally got what they wanted. Daisy was banished from the
school. She was still allowed to ride with me. The kids wouldn’t stand
for her not being there. But the building and the jelly doughnut were now off
limits. My dog was relegated to “The Daisy Bus”.
But it was still very much that … the bus I mean. Daisy’s bus. And
when the big day came … the Spring Easter Seal Campaign … Jimmy
Crum was there. Archie Griffin was there. The teachers all had Ohio State football
jerseys on and were throwing a ball around (in the school?). And there was a
reporter from the Columbus Dispatch to cover the big event.
Things often do not go as planned. And the biggest fundraiser of the year didn’t
either. The reporter from the Dispatch was only mildly interested in all the
football hoopla. What she wanted to write about was DAISY. She wanted to know
about “The Daisy Bus”. She watched as the kids chased her, squealing
in joy. She talked to the children about Daisy. All the while the dog was romping
around oblivious to anything except suddenly being allowed back into the school.
And that’s what the reporter wrote.
The next morning … on the front page … at the TOP of the
front page … with a big picture of Daisy and several kids leaning
on their crutches … the Dispatch headline read “Daisy’s a
Doozy at Helping Children Forget Their Handicaps!” This was the very first
time The Easter Seal Campaign had ever made page one.
Now I won’t say the article was over the top. But it was close. The writer
never wrote, “Steven threw his crutches aside and ran after Daisy!”
But I’ll tell you … the implication was certainly there. Many of
the children from my bus were quoted, saying inspirational things about a pooch
named Daisy … how they loved riding on the bus with her, one girl saying
“I’m gonna CATCH DAISY!”
Needless to say, Daisy was once again queen of the school. The very next morning
when she and I arrived, in the lobby, there were three larges cases of Kal Kan
Dog Food with a personal, hand written letter to Daisy from the company’s
president. He thanked her and encouraged her to keep up the good work helping
handicapped children. Daisy never wanted to eat dry food again.
Those of us who love dogs all seem to anthropomorphize them. We assume they
“love us” … “understand us”. And maybe they do.
I certainly want to believe that. A dog’s love and compassion might merely
be inadvertent. But does that really matter? It certainly didn’t for all
those kids on “The Daisy Bus” who for whatever reason forgot their
handicaps while she was around them. I’d call that unconditional love.
Daisy’s asymmetrical spots … personality … taught me the best
of life is not symmetrical. The children on Daisy’s bus instinctively
seemed to know this.
And as for Daisy … on that big day … after all this inadvertent
love and understanding, she could be found in the corner of the lobby …
wolfing down a big jelly doughnut.
Her jelly doughnut.