![]() A few famous women have managed to shake that image. Dogs that represent our feminine, delicate flower sides. In pop culture, we’re bombarded by images of women with small dogs - Yorkshires, Pomeranians, Maltese - dogs that can fit into a carry-on bag or a purse. Little did they know my nickname for her was "The make-out dog." This dog only wanted to kiss. When Daisy ran to the door - even in her old age when she was basically deaf, her eyes were stricken by cataracts and she limped from arthritis - delivery men, the UPS guy, the plumber, moving truck dudes, all the strange men still wanted to know if my dog would bite. At 56 pounds, she was my protector, my alarm system, my Brienne of Tarth. Daisy died just last month at 15.ĭaisy followed me through two marriages, one divorce, two children, two houses, graduate school and a major home renovation. But as I gazed at the line of dogs tied up to the fence outside of Borough Hall, I dreamt about this puppy looking for a home - and all I knew was that I wanted to give her one. It was 1998, a time when pit bulls were all over the news for being street fighters. In the past, I had owned Golden Retrievers and English Springer Spaniels, both breeds known for their passivity. A true mix of power and honey, her muscles contracted below her puppy ribs. Her tiny snout was white and angelic, her brow was wide and dark. “She’s the kind of dog you want to run away with,” she said. When I pointed to Daisy she cooed, practically lovesick. That day she had 14 dogs in her tiny apartment. Police officers and friends dropped off stray dogs to her in the middle of the night - mostly pits. A woman, whose name I cannot remember, deemed herself the neighborhood adoption center. She slept in the sunshine, the warmth of the sidewalk cradling her. She had a softer head, not as broad and chiseled as those of the other pits. ![]() When I saw my dog, Daisy, for the first time on the street in Brooklyn, she was tied up to a fence with a number of other pit bull mixes.
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