Daisy Mae Kalin (February 4, 2002 – April 18, 2019)

Daisy Mae Kalin (February 4, 2002 – April 18, 2019), offspring of West Highland White Terriers Bunny and Duke, was set free of this mortal coil after a long and well-lived life.

She lived 17 years despite my best efforts to dispatch her early on in that life. While Daisy was a tough little nugget, not even her lead-lined belly could withstand a well-meaning but misguided diet that included green grapes for treats.

She had a wide and varied array of adventures and accomplishments in her long life. She was a good little traveler, having flown in an airplane at 11 months of age and thereafter been a passenger on many road trips. A favorite excursion was annual summer camping trips to Arkansas, where she could unleash her wilderness spirit and roll in scat of an unclear origin. She also spent many hours in the countryside of Missouri, acquainting herself with abandoned mulberries and possum poo. While pontoon-boating in East Texas, she demonstrated a competent doggie paddle. Due to her low-riding physique, she could corner on a dime. She put that ability to test, conducting many backyard vermin hunts and holding a 10-year record of at least three rabbits per season until retiring in 2015, relinquishing the charge to her brother Alfie.

Daisy never learned any typical canine tricks, having considered dogs who obey their masters to be “domesticated fools.”

She thrived in cool, overcast and rainy weather, like in her homeland Scotland. While she epitomized her Scottish ancestors, having “no small amount of self-esteem,” Daisy was afraid of two things in her world: hot air balloons and water towers. If she encountered one on her daily walk, she dropped to an army crawl and scuttled back to the house as quickly as her four short legs would carry her.

If necessary, Daisy could mete out her own brand of justice. An avid and unrepentant poultry-hater, in 2009 she introduced herself to my friends Thomas and Bonne's neighbor’s prize chicken by wrenching off its head and presenting it to its owner with Westie panache. It was both her finest hour and her lowest point, and best not elaborated upon further.

Daisy could keep time almost down to the minute and spent her retirement hours monitoring the lengthening shadows that crept along the wall as the afternoon wore on. She was also the schedule keeper of the household regarding meals, treats, snacks, mid-morning nibbles, afternoon tea times, after-supper noshes, late evening collations, bribes, etc. She expected (and mostly received) timely and prompt distribution of all meals at 6 am and 6 pm daily.

She was an enthusiast of dehydrated blue mussels and wild-caught Atlantic cod. She was known at times to temporarily lift her embargo on obedience for a dab of peanut butter, but only Jif™ brand. While deaf and mostly blind in her last years, she retained the uncanny ability to sense the crinkle of the shredded cheese bag no matter how furtively deployed.

Under no circumstance and at no time did she welcome her snoot being booped. Occasionally she would consent to a brief smootch on her snoot, if necessary. There was a delectable spot behind her left ear that will be especially missed.

Her snoring volume was undiminished at the time of her passing. Even so, her loved ones will not be able to sleep in the sudden silence.

Daisy produced no offspring; thus, she was truly one of a kind. She leaves behind her brother Alfie, her canine cousins Brown (deceased), Indiana (Ana), Bernard (Bobo), Simba, Mero and her human cousins Isabelle, Lauren, Kinzie, Wyatt and Witten, along with many friends and loved ones assembled during her splendid life. She was especially fond of her grandmother Patricia, who persisted in feeding her bits of cinnamon roll and fried chicken, despite expressing dismay at Daisy lurking at her feet “all the time.”

The family would like to thank the staff at Chastain Veterinary Medical Group for many years of excellent care and give a special acknowledgement to Drs. Emily Cole and Mari Childs, who knew just how much she meant to her mama, and who took great care of her to the end. And most of all, thank you to my friends and family, who loved Daisy simply because she meant everything to me.