EPISODE 107 DAISY, I WILL MISS YOU.
alan skeoch
August 2020
NOTE: DAISY DIED A LONG TIME AGO…MAYBE 1983 OR 1984.
SHE WAS A WONDERFJUL DOG. WHEN SHE DIED I DID A SPECIAL
MEMORIAL FOR HER ON CBC RADIO. A LOT OF PEOPLE CRIED.
ONE MAN, DRIVING ON HIGHWAY 401, HAD TO PULL OVER ON THE
SHOULDER; OUR STUDIO PEOPLE SUDDENLY DISAPPEARED AND
I FOUN MYSELF ALONE. WHERE DID THEY GO? THEY WERE CRYING
AS WELL. PEOPLE WHO LISTENED TO ME ON THE RADIO OFTEN REMEMBER
MY MEMORIAL TO DAISY. SO HERE IS A PART OF IT FROM MEMORY.’
THE DAY THAT DAISY DIED…THE MUSIC STOPPED
WELL this is a sad day Daisy. Tears are flowing at our house.’
You are gone and there is a gaping hole in our lives.
You were a good dog…a great dog…a loyal dog…a smart dog…but most of all
you were our dog. And now you are gone leaving us with the memories.
YOU were born in Meaford when they still made cannons at the place. The nights
were lit up with molten metal. Cannons for historical sites. You were
Not exactly pure bred…mostly Labrador with other genetic sweetener. I wonder if
the mixed breed result was why your were so intelligent. You bore us two
litters of pups whose progeny might be still around.
You know what I remember best? Sure, you do.
The day I bought that old tread mill near Cooperstown, New York State.
You showed an interest right away…nosing the machine. I thought some
previous owner had left a scent but that was not the case at all. You
knew how the machine worked and were anxious to give it a go
It took me some time to be aware of your interest, Daisy. But by pure
chance i asked “Want to get up on the treadmill, Daisy?”
I expected you to balk. Expected that training a dog like you
to run a treadmill would take time and patience and loads of
rewards. Not you, Daisy. You jumped up right away…lucky
I had the hand brake locked or you might have spun off backwards.
You walked up the treads to the top and looked over at me
as if to say, “Let’s get going, we have work to do. We are now
a team.”
So I hooked the giant tuning fork to a fanning mill handle…put a load
on the break mill and said “Up you get Daisy.”
No more prompting. You hopped up and I released the brake and
presto…we had two 19th century machines in all operation. You moved
those treads with slow and steady certainty. We were in the grain
cleaning business so to speak. Lots of nice rattling noises. That did
not bother you Daisy. Your tail registered contentment. Swish…swish.
In those years Daisy we went to a lot of small fairs. Those were
the 1980’s when many retired farmers spent their idle hours getting
ancient machines humming for summer tourists. We were part of
that showmanship.
Here is Daisy at the Canadian National Exhibition with Marjorie and Andy. Do you
ever look contented Daisy. Your treadmill is hooked to a fanning mill.
Daisy, do you remember that blunder I made at Sherwood Gladys
Hume’s Family Farm Festival? I should not have let my mouth
talk while my brain was disengaged.
Remember Daisy? We had a large crowd clustered around ready
for your performance. I said, “OK , Daisy, up you go.”
And you performed perfectly as usual. No indication of fatigue.
Very proud of your work. Tail wagging at first and then serious grain
cleaning.
Remember that woman in the audience? She was mad as a wet hen.
Mad at me, not you. She loved you and was certain I was abusing
you. She did not know much about dogs, did she? She did not know
that dogs like to feel valued…to feel helpful…to feel important…to be
understood.
Remember how incensed she was Daisy. Remember how
she demanded I stop the tread mill. Demanded I get you
off the machine.
Remember how I ignored her at first. Kept you on the machine.
as it clattered away. Remember her yelling, “How long are
you going to leave that poor dog on that machine. It’s abuse.
Stop. How long must the poor dog labour?”
Remember my stupid answer. “I leave her on the machine
until she drops dead, then I go down to the SPCA and get
another dog.” A smart ass comment. Really wish I had not
said it but the devil got my tongue.
Remember her reaction. “I am going to get the police…the
Humane society…” And away she went. Of course she never
came back. I said “That’s enough for now Daisy, take a break,”
And I engaged the brake leaver. You jumped down and some
of the crowd came over to pet you. Remember how important
you felt?
I was always so proud of you Daisy. I will miss you forever.
alan skeoch
Sept 2020
NEXT EPISODE HOW ABOUT OUR FANNING MILL COLLECTION…LARGEST COLLECTION OF GRAIN
CLEANING MACHINES IN THE WORD.
WINTER IS COMING