'The last thing we need is another dog' I told Peggy 14 years ago. She said my 12 year old stepdaughter was given the dog by her grandmother.

"I'll be the one that ends up having to feed it and clean up after it." I said as I rounded the corner from the living room and into the kitchen where Daisy stood, looking up at me through those coal-dark eyes.

It was love at first sight for both of us, and I'm not that big a push-over. She was about a year old, out of her puppy stage. She was a white and brown Cocker. Her four feet were like fluffy little mops that would eventually track in large volumes of mud as the years went by. Just a hint of pink tongue protruded as she panted lightly. The she delivered the knockout punch...that flirtatious cock of the head that would become her trademark.

When we went to bed, our bed was her bed. When we sat on the couch her spot was right alongside. While our other dogs would grab naps now and again during evening TV watching, Daisy was on full alert, paying attention until the bedside light went out for the evening. Then and only then would she snuggle between us for a night's rest. When Peggy had major surgery and was in bed for several days Daisy was there beside her. Had Peggy stayed in bed two months, there also would have been Daisy.

Obviously she became known to us as Miss Daisy. While we loved the other 2 dogs in our family there was always the tacit knowledge among them that Daisy was number one and it went unchallenged.

During home-improvement projects Daisy was there as job foreman from the minute I picked up the hammer until day was done. When the other dogs played tug with an old rag Daisy acted as cheerleader with little barks and growls. When Dusty, our Lab, dug lustily at gopher holes during our walks in the woods, there was Daisy acting as hind-catcher of all the flying dirt.

Fourteen extremely short years.

It's one of life's humorless practical jokes. The Good Lord brings a dog like Daisy into our lives but makes us suffer for the experience by taking her back. I know some that read this hold the belief that dogs have no souls. I will argue that God loves all His creations equally and would not reward some with the promise of a hereafter without doing the same for all. What is a soul after all? It is the capacity to feel, to know good from evil...to love.

God was walking through His kingdom early that Monday morning when He saw that new arrival. Daisy looked at Him through those coal black eyes and with just a hint of that pink tongue protruding as she panted lightly. Then she finished Him off with her trademark cock of the head.

He told the angel in charge of check-ins to be sure all the new arrivals were comfortable in their new home and He said, 'That one…....the brown and white one with the big ears. I'm taking her with me.'