2002-05-28-6:02 p.m.

Daisy's gone. Stan and Abby and Daniel took her to the vet and he gave her a shot to put her out of her misery. She could hardly breathe. The doctor said we were wise to end it.

Dog funerals seem to be a lot better than people funerals. We didn't have music to sweeten things up and nobody talked about Daisy, we just thought about her. We stood around watching Stan dig the hole and when he was done we put a sheet in there and he put Daisy in and we all looked at her for a minute and cried some. A few of us said, goodbye, Daisy, and then we thought about her some more. Abby threw some dirt on her and then all the rest of us did, too. Then Stan covered her up.

Andrew put out his hands over the grave and said, I name this dog Merry Puppins! and we all laughed a little bit, Stan in his sweaty tee shirt, holding the shovel, and the rest of us in our shorts and sandals. We talked about how we could wait a little while and then get a pretty stepping stone to put on her grave and maybe a cross. It is just AMAZING how much we all loved that dog.

I wish I could have a funeral like that when I die - just people who really loved me standing around thinking about me and maybe even laughing a little.

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