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.