A field of Daisies
May 19th 2010 12:37
As we walked into the veterinary clinic a man, standing before the reception desk, was talking about Daisy. This turned out to be a fluffy cat cradled in his arms, and not the confused black greyhound by my side.
"Hey, Doofus," my Daisy said to Scratchy, "is that man talking to me?"
"I think he's talking about that hairy nibble he's holding. I think its name is Daisy too."
"A chaseable commodity named Daisy?" said Daisy. "Is that even allowed?"
Scratchy didn’t answer as we were at that moment called into the surgery to start the twice-weekly process of removing the bandaging from his broken leg, inspecting the leg for pressure sores and dermatitis, and rebandaging.
Scratchy sighed. It was all very well for the hoomans to repeat, as they did on each visit, that he was so relaxed and easy to treat – the perfect patient – but this really was getting tiresome. When, oh when, will I be able to run again?
Daisy, who comes along for moral support, wasn’t offering much this day, appearing distracted. “It was a cat, wasn’t it?” she was thinking. “A cat called Daisy. I don’t know whether to laugh or feel humiliated.”
Then things got worse. As we emerged from the surgery and returned to reception, a woman was standing where the man had been standing earlier. She was holding a coiffed Pomeranian. “This,” she announced, “is Daisy.”
“Eek.”
The “eek” was in response to a black greyhound poking its noise into her buttock. The woman gathered the Pomeranian more closely to her and looked down warily.
“Sorry,” I said, pointing at my dog, “her name is Daisy too. And there was a cat here earlier named Daisy. And, well, I think my Daisy's a bit unsettled. Minor identity crisis, if you know what I mean.”
The look of the woman suggested she did not know what I meant. Or didn't want to know. The Pomeranian said nothing.
Hours after arriving home, Daisy still looks puzzled.
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Comment by heidiclyde
How confusing for you, Every now and again at GAP events we meet a beautiful black girl called Heidi. We both find it a bit confusing that a name that means me (in my case an elegant white hound with very distinguished brindle markings, in hers a beautiful black hound not unlike yourself) also means her. To be confronted by a member of that detestable species called cat, then a hairy handful of a dog so undignified that it allows itself to be carried around like a handbag which claim to share your name must be almost unbelievable and utterly unnerving. How can such creatures be defined by a name that is so perfect for one as elegant as you are? I can only assume the hoomans concerned are utterly lacking in any sensitivity to what is fitting and right when it comes to the naming of things and of animals.
you have my sympathy,
Your friend,
Heidi.
Comment by heidiclyde
Guess what? Oh I'm so excited! It all started last Sunday when Mhairi who is Bronwyn's big sister that is littler than her and who doesn't know about our efforts to obtain those essential item of dog leisure heated dog mats, rang the Missus up to tell her that Harrys (The Missus says your Big Boss will remember Harrys if he grew up in Adelaide) was having a big sale with heated dog mats marked down from $130.00 to $40.00 and maybe it would be a good idea to get one for Clyde. The Missus laughed so hard she had to give the phone to the Boss, Mhairi explained to the Boss, who was totally mystified by the Missus in hysterics, and he said it was a good idea!!! Oh I do love our boss, he understands a hound's needs so much better than the Missus does! So on Wednesday they went down to town and got three of the last four heated dog mats in the sale. I was ecstatic until I realised that one was to go to our dear friend Amber who is the most elegant Greyhound ever and who broke her leg just like your Scratchy two weeks ago and is not doing very well, and another to Snowy who lives with Angela who co-ordinates GAP here in S.A. Snowy is 12 and a bit arthritic. I am glad that they are both getting nice warm mats but I think the Boss and the Missus are not very good at arithmetic, 1 for Snowy, 1 for Amber, 1 for Clyde and one for me is 4. I know Mhairi only suggested one for Clyde but surely they didn't have to take her literally?
Today the Missus fitted a scratch proof cover onto the mat and set it up. Clyde lay on it and almost purred (he is learning how to chatter his teeth but you can't do that when you're lying down) he lay on it all the afternoon despite the most persistent hints from me, he may be older than me with far more problems but I am a delicate female and need my luxuries. Luckily this evening he has forgotten about the mat and is on the old cedar couch we are allowed to lie on so I am in my rightful place. Ah Daisy, you have no idea how delightful it is, a low level warmth that is just right for total comfort. I do hope someone has a sale in Melbourne so your little boss can persuade big boss to get you one.
with deep affection from your utterly comfortable friend,
Heidi.
Comment by Chris Champion
Vyoos
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The Blog of Lists
Newly Old
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Daisy's fast asleep right now, so she will answer you at length later. I'm sure she will find all this fascinating - I sure did.
Hugs and tickles,
Chris
Comment by heidiclyde
Thank you for the hugs and tickles, I particularly enjoyed the one behind my ears. Please tell Daisy that I know she is a champion sleeper but isn't 5 days of sleeping a little excessive?
Heidi.
P.S. The Missus says that Daisy may be miffed at me for having got a heated mat before her, I do hope that is not the case. I don't get to sleep on it very often, promise.
H.