No Name
After leaving the house, the man turned and briskly walked away. The dog stood frozen in confusion, watching his figure disappear down the street. Just like that, she lost her name…
It came to be that the dog lived without a name. Of course, once upon a time, she had oneshe even remembered it after all these months. But now, nobody ever used it… Daisy… Daisy-Doe… Little Daisy…
Shed lived with a loving elderly mistress in a modest flat in a leafy part of Manchester. Then, one dreadful day, her owner was taken off by doctors and never came home again.
Daisy waited desperately by the closed door, sniffing, howling, and hoping, until at last she heard the familiar sound: the key turning once in the lock and again
With hope fluttering in her chest, she sat by the doorstep. But it wasnt her beloved mistressit was her son, a surly man with a stony stare. Daisy wagged her tail, polite but uncertain.
Oh, youre still here? The neighbours wont stop complaining about your wailing, he grumbled.
Daisy understood. She bowed her head low.
All right then, lets go, he sighed at last.
She loved going for walks, so she bounded outside joyfully. But then the unthinkable happened…
Once theyd gone a little way from the house, the man paused, spun on his heel, and strode away at speed. Daisy, confused, dashed after him.
Go on! Get lost! Wander the streets, for all I care, he barked sternly, stamping his foot for good measure.
The dog froze in place and watched his figure fade into the distance. Thats how she lost her name. From then on, it was replaced by two words she heard each day, sometimes sharply, sometimes wearily, but always the same:
Get lost!
Daisy didnt care for her new name, not one bit. For a while, she tried to resist. With hopeful eyes, shed follow each passer-by, as if to ask, Dont you know me? Im Daisy.
But after being shooed and kicked more than once, she realised it was safer to stick to the shadows and keep her distance.
One day, she wandered back to her old building and lingered near the familiar entrance. For a moment, she imagined she could see her dear mistress, perched on the bench and surrounded by a cluster of chatty elderly ladies.
Timidly, Daisy approached.
Oh, look, Vera, its Mrs. Anthonys little dog! What was her name again? gasped one of the women, reaching to pat Daisys head, trying to recall.
Yes such a sad story. They say her son turfed out the poor dog the very day after Margaret passed. Heartless, some folk, sighed her friend.
They chatted a while longer about Daisys fate, until their grandchildren tore across the courtyard.
Gran, can we keep the doggy? Please? yelled one boy, eyes wide at the sight of Daisy.
Come along, William. We cant take her in, his gran hurried him away.
Daisy sighed.
Im sorry, we cant either. Im allergic, whispered the second child kindly as he left.
Daisy understood. Still, she lingered at the buildings doors for days, hoping someone might remember her and take her in.
She watched other dogs with their owners strutting confidently on leads. But none approached her anymore.
Come on, George! Dont go near the stray mutt, warned a woman, glancing at Daisy before dragging her bulldog away.
Daisy remembered George, and George wagged his stubby tail at her, looking apologetic as he was hauled off.
The courtyard shed once called home had grown hostile. The caretaker shooed her with a broom, and the residents gave her wary looks, muttering that strays had no place there.
She tried to find shelter by the bins, outside the corner shop, and finally stumbled into an abandoned building site…
September had arrived, bringing crisp evenings. One night, Daisy found a miraculous slice of pizza in a dustbin, and hurried back to her hideoutonly to discover him.
A ragged little pup, grimy and shivering, watched her with hopeful eyes. Somehow, hed slipped into her makeshift refuge and was now eyeing her prized dinner.
Daisy had already learned the rules of the streets: no strangers allowed. She tried to bare her teeth, the way streetwise dogs do, but it wasnt very convincing.
The pup just wagged his tail and shuffled nearer.
For the first time in ages, Daisy felt someone was truly glad to see her. She gave in. She shared her meal, and soon, the pup was fast asleep, curled against her hollow belly.
Daisy, though, couldnt settle. She hadnt felt needed in so long. Memories troubled her heart, and she sighed quietly, careful not to wake the little one.
They became inseparable. Daisy taught her new son all she could about survival: finding scraps, darting between bins, dodging lorries. The pup would scamper after her, sometimes distracted by a human, but Daisy always kept a watchful eye.
Perhaps they could have stayed in their refuge longer, but one morning clattering machinery stormed the site. Builders flooded in, shouting, and diggers roared.
Daisy acted at once, guiding the pup out. The pup lagged behind, barely dodging a descending digger. At last, they squeezed out through a gap in the fence and found themselves on a noisy street. They needed to find shelter, fast.
She looked back at their makeshift home with sorrow, then trotted on, the pup happily chasing leaves along the pavement, blissfully unaware of their plight.
They wandered until evening, cold rain drizzling and wind biting. Near a tall block of flats, Daisy spotted a small awning by one of the porchesa structure someone had rigged up, almost like a kennel.
Cautiously, she sniffed around, and finding it vacant, led the pup into the dry shelter. They spent the night there, jumpy at every sound.
Dawn brought the local cats. They liked to lounge atop the kennel, but today, discovering Daisy and the pup inside, they bristled and kept their distance.
The pup, with more spirit than sense, burst out barking and sent them fleeing. Daisys heart leapt with fear for him, but he bounded back proudly, as if to ask, Did you see how brave I was?
She licked his muddy brow and gazed into his bright eyes. He bounced with joy, and his clear meaning was: Isnt it breakfast time?
The yard filled with early risers and their well-cared-for dogs. Daisy watched them from a distance. She remembered when shed walked like that, trotting happily next to her old mistress. But now, it all felt like another lifetime.
The pup kept close, picking up on her mood. Then, a couple appeared: a young man and woman, chatting and laughing, leading their fluffy white pup, Snowy.
Daisys pup darted to greet them, and she tensed, ready to shield him. But there was no needthe couple stopped to watch the two pups tumble and play.
Looks like Snowys made a new friend, the woman smiled.
The man bent to ruffle Daisys pups ears, and he melted at the touch. The woman knelt beside them, smiling broadly.
How does such a tiny fellow end up on the streets? she said, worry in her tone.
The man shrugged. We should take him to a vet, at least. Snowy’s mum will be back in two days.
The woman glanced hopefully at him. Lets see if we can help. Maybe something good will come of it.
She wrapped her arms around her partner and Daisy watched in silence, remembering when someone had once looked at her with such warmth. Maybe, she wondered, not all people are unkind.
The pup, meanwhile, was cradled in the mans arms, licking his cheek, already forgetting poor Daisy.
She sighed. Perhaps happiness awaited him here. The dog, her heart heavy, limped away.
A week later, chilled and alone, Daisy returned. She wanted to see the pup, though she feared hed ignore her and his new owners would shoo her away.
Then she spotted them: the couple, with the pup on a lead between them. The little one looked around anxiously and, upon seeing Daisy, yanked at his leash, squealing with delight.
Daisy hesitated, desperate to get close but afraid.
The couple strode over, calm and gentle.
Looks like youve found your missing friend! the woman exclaimed, kneeling beside Daisy.
Daisy lowered her head, prepared for rejection.
Found her! laughed the man, jovially.
The words sounded eerily like her lost name.
The pup danced around her, licking her muzzle.
Finally! Weve been looking everywhere, the couple told her as if greeting an old friend.
Daisys ears pricked up and she gazed into their kind eyes, shining with a warmth she thought shed forgotten.
So, shall we the man began.
Daisy shrank, expecting to hear those dread words, Get lost!
Come with us? he finished, his voice soft.
Daisy paused, stunned by these gentle, long-forgotten words.
She shrank from the outstretched hand at first, but the woman murmured, We wont hurt you. Dont be afraid.
Step by timid step, Daisy moved closer, until at last a warm hand stroked her head. She wagged her tail, almost in disbelief, as joy washed over her.
Outside, quiet snowflakes began to fall, unusually early for October, settling gently around two kind-hearted people and their happy dogs, who walked side by side into the new day.
We need a name for our little foundling, mused the man, looking thoughtful.
No need to overthink it. Shes a girl, and we found her. Lets call her Daisy, in honour of that, smiled the woman.
Daisy paused for just a moment and barked with happiness. At long last, she had found her name againand, most importantly, a loving family.
Sometimes we lose our way and our name, but kindness has a way of giving us back more than we ever dared hope for.
