Faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, able to leap huge stacks of fallen trees in a single bound… it’s SUPER DOG. That’s the new tag line I’ve given Daisy.
Why, you ask? Good question.
Well behaved, she’s not.
Smart? Not so much.
Good hunter? Okay, there she’s pretty good. She has a great sense of smell and she’s quick. She can keep up with the horses on a fifteen mile ride and never even get tired. And did I mention she's sweet-natured? She is, although with a wee willful streak .
Lest you get confused and think I’m describing the perfect dog (after all, her nickname is HiLee, i.e., Highly Gifted), I must admit she’s the teeniest bit unpredictable. Today, I was leaning down to pick a weed out of the pasture, and she came out of nowhere, highly exuberant, gleefully happy, ready to greet me with love, and whopped me right in the face.
I saw stars, tasted blood, and nearly fell over. She whimpered. I think she thought I’d bashed her in the skull. And I guess I had, although I never would have planned to do it with my lip. So now I have a noticeably fat, bruised lip. (Angelina Jolie, look out!) I went to Jubilee today, and several people stared at me disapprovingly, as if I'd been in a bar fight. And who do I have to thank? Ah, sweet little Daisy Mae, my Super Dog.