10 years ago a family, with a mom named Kristin (yup, spelled that way), gave up on a pup 4 days after adoption, because she was too loud, too nervous, too terrifying, too territorial.

That pup was given to a man named Ryan who gave her love, a safe space and the tools she needed. And he, in turn, selected us to bring that pup home and taught us how to protect her from the world and herself.

As we prepare to say goodbye to Miss Daisy in just a few hours due to a cancer diagnosis, I want to thank that other Kristin and her family for deciding to let her go. And to Ryan for picking us. Because those decisions gave my family 10 years of chaos, companionship, and comfort.

She’s been with us through good times, bad times, and pandemic times (and boy did she help during the start of COVID as her quiet presence calmed my head). It wasn’t always easy, and there were times in the early days, as when she laid Steve flat with an enthusiastic head butt or terrified a passing neighbor, when I wondered if she was too much.

But in that, she is also like us. She is too much. Too loud. And wildly enthusiastic. And slightly terrifying even when she’s being friendly. And can clear a room when something is not settling right in her tummy. And while she’s okay with people, it’s her people she wants to spend her time with.

Because those people? She has loved them hard.

Almost as hard as we have loved her.