If pets don't go to heaven, I don't want to go either. Our Daisy( A Maltese Poodle) is four years old. I am eighty one, my husband, seventy five next week. In dog years that makes makes Daisy, what?- twenty eight. And we, her people in dog years? I can't even think that high but well beyond our sell-by date. It is not hard to figure out that wherever we go, we,the people, will be going first.

Daisy loves people but she loves us best. We're the only mom and dad she knows. She also loves her person sisters and person brother and all her many nieces and nephews most of whom are older than she. She is unfailingly happy to see them, always lets them know how special they are. The sisters and brothers aren't always so pleasant to each other nor to us. Nor we to them. They all love Daisy but of the whole family, SHE is the only one without a grudge of some kind. The only one without a memory of having been done wrong sometime. Daisy, the only one of us with no ax to grind, loving us unconditionally, abundantly, without reserve.

Daisy will soon be going to the Retirement Residence with us. We feel so lucky to be able to keep her for a while. We could keep her forever but know she will outlast us and I think we shouldn't put her through our senility so long before her own, when she still has so many years to spread her special joy. She has a nephew, my grandson, who is now sixteen. He is totally captivated by her and the only one of us who equals her in warmth and sparkle and selfless love. His mom says it's OK. We are planning in a year or so (fingers crossed)to have Daisy join that household. That's as close to heaven on earth as we can arrange. After that? I hope we will be together again wherever it is.

Learn more about this author, Claire MacGregor.
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