Daisy

Earlier today, my Uncle’s wife posted that their dog Daisy died.  She was fourteen, so she was a pretty old girl.  Some sort of mutt, Daisy was adopted from my Mom’s work all those years ago.  Adopted to my Aunt, and Uncle.  He inherited the dogs when my Aunt passed away.

Often my Aunt and Uncle would drive here from the Chicago area where they lived for a visit, and then take Mack home for a week to visit with them more and spoil her to death.  Much of the time, my parents would head that direction and spend the weekend with them and drive her home.  At the time I was still working retail, and could rarely get weekends off, unless I was actually taking vacation.

So the summer of Daisy, was one of the rare occurences when I did have vacation.  My Aunt and Uncle had decided they wanted Daisy, but decided to have her fixed at my Mom’s work before she came home.  So during the week that Mack was with them, Daisy got fixed, got her shots, and was set to go.  The plan was that Daisy would tag along with me on the road trip to go pick up Mack.

My sister and my soon to be, brother-in-law came with me as well. 

We picked the puppy up and they had given her a dose of some sort of sedative to keep her calm for the five and a half hour road trip.  She was completely konked out. 

We left early that morning, around 7 am,  so that we could get there at a reasonable hour, and still have time to spend with family.

We got about forty-five minutes out-of-town, before my car started freaking out, shaking, smelling like it was on fire, lights flashing, etc.  We pulled to the side of the road.  My BIL popped the hood, smoke poured out. 

We were about two hundred yards from an exit into a po-dunk little town off of I-80.  Carrying our luggage, stuff we didn’t want to leave in the car, and a drugged up puppy we started walking up the highway.  Some farmer stopped in his pick-up and gave us a ride into the town.

I had taken my new car in for an oil change at the dealership where I had purchased it, two days before we left.

They forgot to tighten the oil pan plug all the way when they completed the oil change.  The vibrations of the car driving shook it the rest of the way loose, and it fell out.  All the oil leaked out of the car.  Engine completely destroyed, burnt to a crisp.

We were stuck in po-dunkville until my Dad was able to get off of work, at four o’clock in the afternoon.  So from 8 in the morning, until almost 5, we took turns staying with the dog while others walked to a restaurant, gas station, wherever.

The dealership had to come get my car, and tow it back, I had to pay for the tow, until it was determined that it was indeed their fault and not something I had done to my own car.  Jerks. 

I was so pissed.

They did end up taking care of everything, new engine, paid for the tow, gave me a loaner car after it was determined that it was indeed their fault and not mine.  Although, I am pretty sure that they ran the new engine for my car as if it were a warranty issue and not them screwing up, but at that point, I just wanted my car back.

So dear Daisy, I will never forget you as long as I live, the day I spent hauling your sleepy, drugged, puppy self all over a small hick town in Iowa, not to mention that you were not drugged the following day when we drove my brother-in-law’s car to Chicago and you were crazy and howling the entire five and a half hour car ride.

RIP old girl.

 

 


2 Comments on “Daisy”

  1. Jen says:

    What a story! RIP Daisy.

  2. libbylogic says:

    Sounds like she had a nice life. And you had a shitty car.


I like thoughtful comments!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 302 other followers