Daisy Mae

Angela first got her rat terrier, Daisy Mae, as a puppy — as a graduation present from her parents when she graduated high school. She loved sleeping on the bed with Angela.

By the time I met Angela, Daisy was an old doggie. She wasn’t happy on the bed anymore, so we kept a blanket on the floor for her to sleep on. Each night, she would stand by her blanket and look at me expectantly, until I “floofed her blankie” for her. The she would happily curl up in it for the night.

She only lived a year after our wedding.

Cally Coe

Cally was the first pet that Angela and I acquired together. Angela had been having dreams about a white calico kitten, and when she called the local shelter, they actually HAD one! I was hesitant, but Angela drug me to the shelter saying “Let’s just go look!”…

Of course, once there, Angela fell in love, and no WAY were we leaving without that cat. “Let’s just go look!” became a running joke between us…

The “O” and “V” on Cally’s side were natural — so I just *HAD* to have a little fun with Photoshop…

Angela had a very clever idea for a Cally Christmas card…


When Daisy died, Angela decided she couldn’t live without another dog. It was less than a week before she tracked down a beagle breeder who was temporarily visiting Portland. We raced up there and came home with little Buttercup, not even two months old. We especially loved Buttercup’s one blue eye.

As a puppy, we learned that she was “front-heavy” — when she was eating (or standing still for a picture), she would tend to tip forward with her back legs up in the air — so sometimes I would help her stay upright with a single finger under her chin.

Buttercup was a sweet dog, and very smart. TOO smart, in fact — we always gave her a small treat when she went potty outside, so she took to demanding to come back in after peeing, getting her treat, and then immediately wanting back out to poop (so she’d get a second treat). Between that and her habit of digging in the trash any chance she got, we quickly gave her a nickname: “Evil”.

She grew a bit over the years…

Angela made Buttercup into a Christmas card, much as she did Cally.

“Daddy, what the HELL is THIS?!?”

As a puppy, Cally tried to dominate Buttercup. Later when Buttercup was larger, this didn’t work so well for Cally. Eventually, they became friends.


When Cally died, we didn’t replace her immediately. We were preparing to have the house remodelled, and a cat would just be inconvenient. After the remodel, we got Tasha, a purebred Siberian. Siberians are hypo-allergenic, and very smart. They also seem to think they’re dogs — Tasha even plays fetch!


2014 was a really bad year. It started so well; we’d just remodelled the house to be beautiful and handicap-accessible for Angela, we brought my mom up to an assisted living facility nearby (the same one where Angela’s dad was, so they could meet and socialize). But two weeks after my mom moved in, Angela’s dad died. A few months later, Buttercup died.

A few months after that, we found Lily in a local animal shelter, and fell in love. She was a wirehair terrier (the shelter thought she had some poodle in her as well). Lily’s first act upon meeting us at the shelter, was curling up and taking a nap in Angela’s arms!

The curse of 2014 wasn’t over, though. Two weeks after we got Lily, Angela wound up in the hospital (and later, a care center) for two months. I couldn’t raise a puppy at home while working full-time and visiting Angela, so we had to kennel Lily the whole time. I would borrow Lily from the kennel once a week, to go visit Angela.

At this point, a friend of mine offered to foster Lily for us until Angela got better — so I paid up her kennel bill, took her to visit Angela one last time at the care center, and delivered her to my friend. Two days after the following picture was taken, Angela was rushed from the care center to the Emergency Room, and two days after THAT, Angela died. I still couldn’t take care of Lily alone, so I let my friend keep her. Lily now has a happy life with a wonderful family and several other dogs.

As of the start of 2015, it’s just me and Tasha, alone in a suddenly-huge-feeling house…

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