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This is our dog Daisy, she is ten years old and the subject of an event in our lives that can best be described as unbelievable. But this story is all too true, every word. My wife's youngest sister, Priscilla died of cervical cancer in January of 2007. She was thirty six years old and left behind 3 boys, the oldest being ten, and a devoted and loving husband. It was a difficult time for my wife and her remaining two sisters. On the one year anniversary of Priscilla's death, the family gathered at the cemetery where we all shared fond memories. That day started uncharacteristically, because Daisy would not come up from the basement, a first since she loves to come into the house and then go out into our backyard which is fenced. We left her in the basement and headed to the cemetery. When we got home, the first thing I did was to open the basement door and call for Daisy, she was laying on her blanket at the landing of the steps, whining. She finally got up and started up the stairs, and that is when I saw a small black animal moving around on her blanket. "Tina!" I called to my wife, "Daisy caught a squirrel or rat or something, it's on her blanket!" I went down the stairs to see, it was neither, it was a puppy. What? Daisy was spayed years ago while my wife and I were on our honeymoon. Daisy stays in our fenced backyard, never gets out, and I have never seen another dog inside the fence. Daisy never showed any sign of being pregnant. The first thing I did was call my good friend Richard, a veterinarian in Winder, Georgia, and told him Daisy just had a puppy. After the usual how much have you had to drink banter, he paused and said, "You are in uncharted waters. Daisy will take care of her pup, beyond that, I am at a loss for words." We named the puppy Laney after Priscilla, her middle name was Lane, and my daughter gave her the middle name of Lavender. Laney is almost two years old and the spitting image of her mother, only the gray in Daisy's face is how we can tell them apart. Six months ago, my Aunt Jan, my mother's best friend, died of lung cancer. Her daughter, Karen, told me at the funeral that she and Aunt Jan on the day that she died, had come up with a secret word, that when ever Karen heard it or read it, she would know her mom's spirit was with her. I asked Karen what the word was. "Lavender" she said.
Also by Matt Forbes
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