My advice to the people…. have a dog, at least once in your life. Because they teach us some of the most important things in life: unconditional love, simple happiness and commitment.

“Happiness is a warm puppy”, Charles M. Schulz said. I absolutely agree. To me, dogs and happiness are totally synonymous. The sky is blue, flowers are beautiful and puppies are cute.

The world is so uncertain and dogs are one of the few things I can really trust. Yes, I’m a hard-core, rock-solid, unapologetic dog person. (It’s okay if you are a cat person- I understand some people are more attached to rodents or serpentines or equines or felines rather than dogs.) Let me tell you how this devotion came about.

Daisy, a female Siberian Husky, came into our lives on one sunny day in June 1993. She was incredibly adorable. I was 11 years old. She was one month old. The moment I saw her my heart completely melted. She was sleeping in a cardboard box like a greyish yarn of wool. And sometimes that wool yarn rolled and snuggled. 

I couldn’t wait to come back home from school. She was so small that her body could fit into a box no bigger than half the newspaper. The following month she grew up to about a full page of the newspaper. By her first birthday, her body was larger than two spread pages. 

She had beautiful fur. I loved the feeling of it. I could stroke her stomach all day (if she ever let me). She had clear blue eyes, strong legs and a cute fluffy tail. I liked watching her tail. It moved as if it had a will of its own. From side to side, it swayed as she moved. Every time I tried to grab her tail Daisy would slip away. 

I took her for a walk almost every day. Daisy gave me some degree of fame in the neighbourhood. Everywhere we go, she got people’s attention. Kids came to pat her, some people would be too scared to come near as they thought Siberian Huskies were akin to wolves. It was a lot of fun to walk with her. 

There was a local community of dog owners in my neighborhood. Almost every day we would meet in a park nearby. Daisy quickly became one of the stars of the group. She was perky, friendly and outgoing. She hardly made a fuss with other dogs. One day I was asked by a photographer if he could borrow Daisy for a photo shoot for a local poster for an event. We were very proud of her. 

However, I must confess that I was not always the best owner. More than a handful of times I skipped taking her for a walk because I was too tired. I should have brushed her more often (she didn’t like it). One time I cut her nails too short and got her bleeding. I loved her all the time but I wish I could have spent more time with her. 

On what was a beautiful morning in late November 2006, her innocent spirit left her sick body to go to another playground up above the sky. It was the most painful day of my life. It still pains my heart when I remember that day.

It has been more than a decade since we lost her. But I still remember the sound of her footsteps and the noises her collar made when she shivered. Her howls, whimpers, sneezes, pants, barks and growls… the numerous holes she dug in the backyard, the enormous amounts of hair she shed, how she pulled on the leash, the wetness of her nose.

Thank you, Daisy, for teaching me what life is all about. I’m grateful for the days we spent together. I would like to believe that someday I will see you again up there. I’ll bring you some treats and we can go for a long long walk together again.