Daisy

You ever wonder about the life of pets? What they do when you’re not around? What they plot? Daisy is your teacup Yorkie, and she has the temperament of the Devil himself trapped inside four pounds of fluffy rage. The mailman? She barks at him like he personally insulted her ancestors. Pizza delivery guy? She’s attached to the box before you can even open the door. Amazon delivery? Let’s just say your boxes have developed trust issues. She may be tiny, but Daisy has somehow appointed herself the security chief of the entire household. Every noise is suspicious. Every stranger is a criminal. A leaf blowing across the yard? Clearly an enemy. And heaven help anyone who dares touch her favorite toy. But when you leave for work, Daisy’s secret life begins. Because while you think she spends the day sleeping on the couch, Daisy has an entire social life you know absolutely nothing about. She meets with the neighborhood dogs. She knows which houses have treats. She has a standing arrangement with the golden retriever next door and a long-running feud with a Chihuahua three streets over. Then there are the humans. Daisy has figured out that different people give her different things. Your mother sneaks her chicken. Your neighbor gives her cheese. The kid down the street drops snacks. Daisy considers this a perfectly reasonable economic system. She also has a mysterious collection of objects under the couch. Nobody knows where they came from. Nobody wants to know. And every evening, when you come home, Daisy transforms instantly into the innocent little angel you believe her to be. She wags her tail. She gives you those adorable puppy-dog eyes. And somewhere behind that tiny innocent face is a four-pound criminal mastermind thinking: “Excellent. The human has returned. Begin Phase Two.”