Duke & Daisy

Forgive me for writing about personal stuff again, but we’ve had a very sad day. We had to bury our dog this morning. If you have never had a dog, never known the heart-felt attachment that one can have toward these fury creatures, then don’t bother to read this. It will probably seem a bit silly. But for those dog owners who understand the phrase “man’s best friend”, then grieve with me.

Daisy was our second smooth-haired, black and brown dachshund (doxen), identical to our first dachshund, Duke, except for gender. We acquired Duke in 1996, the year Jonathan was born. He was already a feisty, 4 year old rat and mouse chaser. Duke made sure our yard stayed clear of any stray cats or chickens. He even killed a few snakes for us over the years. For many years, Duke was a source of fun, entertainment, protection, and affection for all seven of us in the Moses family.

In 2002, another missionary family offered us Daisy, their 2 year old female dachshund. Their small apartment just wasn’t suitable for her energetic rambunctious ways. By this time, Duke was an old man and it took some doing for him to agree to share HIS yard with a snappy, temperamental teenager. But before long, they were friends.


Duke and Daisy were with us when we learned about Jan’s cancer, then mine in 2004. We were forced to leave for the States, not knowing if we would ever return. The care of Duke and Daisy was farmed out to nearby neighbors, but our return 6 months later brought our canines back together. We had several months to enjoy our two extended family members once again.

But Duke began having serious health problems. When Jan’s cancer returned the following year, and she returned to the States with the kids, I was left behind to sell our belongings. The day before I left, I had the painful task of holding ailing Duke while the vet put him to sleep. I buried Duke in the front yard. A Filipino family we knew offered to take Daisy. All in all, a sad separation.

Hannah, Martha, Jonathan, and I returned to the Philippines in March, 2008. The Filipino family returned Daisy to us, and once again we had our beloved dachshund. For the past three and a half years, Daisy has kept our house rat and mice free. She has protected our house day and night, and alerted us to every visitor. She has given us daily loyalty and affection while entertaining us with her games and tricks.

So we were concerned last week when she stopped eating. Then her breathing became labored. Dachshunds are twice as likely as other breeds to have heart problems, and Daisy’s heart was giving out. A trip to the vet didn’t offer any improvement. It was Daisy’s time.

Yesterday, while straining for every breath, Daisy slowly plodded around the yard to all her favorite resting places. She spent the night in the bean bag chair, her favorite indoor resting place. She accepted some water from Jonathan through an eye dropper. Early this morning, she made her way outside, but couldn’t get very far. She coughed up some ugly, brownish stuff that was filling her lungs. She was panting heavily with very short breaths, salivating at the mouth. I didn’t see how she could last another day. It was time to put her down.

While Jonathan dug her grave in the front yard, I laid Daisy on a cloth pad in her bed, placed her in the front seat of our car and drove her to the vet, talking to her and petting her all the way. At the vet, we kept her on her pad as the drugs were administered. I held Daisy’s head in my hands, talking to her between tears and sniffles, until her breathing stopped.

So, a connection to our family’s history for the past 15 years came to an end today. Years of precious memories and tender joys now buried in our front yard. Our house has never felt so empty. Of course, Jonathan and I will do fine these next 11 months, before we leave next year for furlough in the States. But for now, we feel lonely.