Glass half full

How can it possibly be more than a decade - ELEVEN YEARS - since I brought home a starved, terrified, bag of bones?



That same walking-skeleton-with-fur-sprayed-on who became Little Miss Perfect, the chunky monkey who never put a foot wrong.



I have released her Spirit; I did so long ago and know that she's out there somewhere living her very best afterlife with her original human. The person who must have treated her with love and kindness because once Daisy got through her initial fears we found a kind, gentle, incredible little dog who knew how to walk perfectly, obey commands, demand the dregs of a teacup and commandeer an entire sofa. She did not learn any of those things from a 'bad' first owner. When she was separated from that person it must have broken her heart as much as losing her broke mine.



I still miss her every day and my heart is still in two pieces, but these days I am mostly able to think of the walks, the cuddles, the good times we shared. There is nothing to be gained by allowing the pain to overshadow those special moments, and there were so many of them to treasure. With a world engulfed in such crap and disarray at present I need my glass more full than empty and rejoice in all that Daisy brought to my life.








I did not get nearly long enough with her but I did get time with a dear Soul who taught me so much, absorbed all the love that I had to give and, I think, loved me equally in return.