Looking back, I realize there are stories that are the bedrock of our faith. Although they seem relatively
small in reality the impact was and is huge in our spiritual journey.
She was a small dog; probably wouldn’t stand out in the lineup of amazing animals but to our family she
was the queen. She became one of us years earlier when a neighbor across the street had mixed
Chihuahua puppies and wanted to give one to our youngest daughter Gay Lynn, who was two at the
time.
We are a dog family; not sure I have ever said no to a dog much less a puppy. Daisy became a big part of
the family immediately. She was small and fit perfectly into the short arms of Gay Lynn, usually dangling
wherever Gay Lynn went. They became quite the duo known by everyone in the small, close knit
neighborhood; inseparable was the only term to use.
Years passed and the pair grew both in age and size. Daisy ran alongside Gay Lynn although, she was still
often carried in those little girl arms. But they remained inseparable. Then one day all the dogs were
loaded into the bed of the truck for a vet visit. Daisy somehow made her way into the back of the truck
with the bigger dogs. Along the way, Phil pulled off the side of the road to check one of the tires. A
couple of the dogs jumped the tailgate and decided to enjoy a run in the grass. It didn’t take long to
round them up and head on. When Phil and the kids got to the vet, all dogs were accounted for except
one: Daisy. Phil immediately backtracked but Daisy was nowhere.
When they walked in the door both Gay Lynn and Phil weren’t in good shape. Gay Lynn mounted her
bike, got the neighborhood kids and they began combing the area. By nightfall everyone was feeling
hopeless. Between tears and feelings of blame it wasn’t fun at our house. Living in a small town, we
drove the streets, the countryside, telling everyone who would listen about this precious black dog. Days
drug by but hope remained in our youngest girl. Although she was now in school, when she got home
the routine was riding and looking. We all did. During the days, Phil and I separately drove different
areas looking, hoping and continually coming up empty.
Days passed; weeks passed. Several months passed and as adults both Phil and I embraced the obvious:
Daisy wasn’t coming home. Gay Lynn, however, was more determined than ever Daisy would come
home. In some ways, her resolve was concerning. During dinnertime meals the conversation would
often center around Daisy.
“I wonder what Daisy is doing?” would be a standard comment; or, “I hope she is warm and safe.”
Sometimes Gay Lynn would repeat stories of things she and Daisy had done; the rest of us would eat
and say very little. During bedtime one night, Gay Lynn prayed, as she always did, for Daisy to come
home. “What if she’s with another child who loves her as much as you?” I hoped this would help Gay
Lynn let go and move on but instead she bowed her head and said, “ Jesus, please let whoever has Daisy
not have any children so she can come home to me. Amen.”
Phil and I would have private discussions about Gay Lynn not letting go; we were stressed as parents.
“Daisy is gone,” I said to him one night. “I don’t know what else to do.” The irony of that statement was
we went to church, and at home our faith was growing; we talked it and we lived it or so I thought. The
“Daisy disappearance”, after so many months, caused me to determine there is a time to say God’s will
was not for Daisy to come home. It had been almost seven long months.
Phil, on the other hand, had a different revelation. He realized one night he hadn’t prayed with Gay Lynn
for Daisy to come home. He sat down by her bed and said, “Lord, this little girl has been believing for
months for her dog to come home; we are asking you to bring Daisy home.” Gay Lynn hugged him
goodnight.
A few days later on a Saturday, Phil decided to go to his real estate office to catch up on paperwork. The
door opened and a couple walked in off the street. They were a young couple; she was pregnant and
they were excited about their first child coming in a few months. During the conversation, the lady kept
eyeing a picture on Phil’s desk. Finally she asked him: “Who is that in your picture?” Phil picked up the picture of
Gay Lynn as a two-year-old and Daisy as a puppy – he smiled and began to tell the couple the story. When he
finished, the lady said, “We have that dog at our house.” She relayed the story of their friend finding
Daisy at the exact location where the dogs got out of the truck. The friend asked this couple to take
Daisy which they did. “But we are expecting our first child and we decided we can’t keep a dog.” Phil,
listening to their every word, asked, “Can we go to your house?”
Phil knew their street well. When he pulled into the driveway and the lady opened the front door to the
house, a small black dog bounded down the steps toward Phil’s truck. Scooping her up, he just held
Daisy for the longest.
I wish I could say I wrote down the exact day and time that life changed for our family but I didn’t. This is
what I remember. It was late in the afternoon, it was fall because neighbors were raking leaves and the
neighborhood kids were running up and down, laughing and playing. I was inside with a friend when I
heard the truck; through the glass storm door I saw Phil in the driveway. I saw his door open but he
didn’t get out. He remained seated. Then I saw her. Gently he sat Daisy on the grass outside and within seconds
her short legs, ears pressed back against her head, and she was on a dead run toward the group of kids in the yard.
Suddenly squeals filled the air as Gay Lynn’s eyes spotted her four legged friend. Gay Lynn dropped to
her knees as Daisy smothered her with dog kisses. “Daisy; Daisy; I knew you’d come home.” Many
onlookers were seen wiping their eyes; I was one.
As I write this, there are events that seem to stand still in time; even as we age, those memories are as
fresh as the moment they happened. Neighbors laid down their rakes; bicycles were thrown on the
ground and that corner of the world stood in awe. Neighbors smiled at the reunion of two old friends,
one furry and one a little girl they had watched grow up. Phil and I were witnessing the faith and
perseverance of our youngest daughter. It was her faith, and a dad who prayed with her that created
the miracle we were watching. Kid’s laughter and chatter are such wonderful sounds and that day they
were sheer joy.
Days later we loaded into the car to go meet the wonderful couple who had cared for Daisy. The only
problem was, we pulled into the driveway and it looked as if no one lived there. Phil knocked on the
door; no one came. He peered through the windows. There was no furniture; the house was empty. By
the looks of things, it had been empty awhile, but Phil had been there three days earlier. He reflected
back to remembering the lady opening the door and her young husband standing in the yard. Today
there was no sign of any life.

It was quiet on the way home. What do you say to that? Phil and I later talked; what just happened? I
remembered Gay Lynn’s prayer that whoever had Daisy would not have any children attached to her;
that prayer was answered. Circumstances didn’t deter; in her thinking she never entertained Daisy
wouldn’t come home.  I, on the other hand, had spent the past months being schooled in faith by a child.
“You know mom,” Gay Lynn said, “Those were angels.” To this day you won’t convince us otherwise!
Daisy lived to be seventeen years old. Her story continues to live down through the grandkids, and as
the great grandkids reach story telling age, they will hear the ‘Daisy story’. We’ve never doubted what
God can and will do; sometimes the answer isn’t what we want but not because we don’t continue to
persevere in faith. We’ve had many challenges and experiences that were possibly met and conquered
all because of what we learned from a dog named Daisy and the faith of a little girl.