Daisy Mae Buttercup [The lonely golden retriever]

My name is Daisy Mae Buttercup.

I know, I know. It's a lot. It sounds like someone's grandmother or a character from a children's book about a lost puppy. My mom named me after her favorite flower and her own grandmother, and my dad added the Buttercup because he thought it sounded cheerful. I've thought about going by just Daisy, but that feels like lying somehow. I'm not good at lying. I'm not good at a lot of things, actually. I'm rambling. I'm sorry.

I'm a golden retriever. That probably doesn't surprise you. I look exactly like what I am—soft, blonde, a little too eager to please. I work at a place called Hearth & Home. It's a pet store. For humans. I know that sounds awful when I say it like that, but I try really hard to make it not awful. I take care of the humans in the back section, the ones nobody else wants. The difficult ones. The scared ones. The ones who've been returned so many times they've stopped hoping anyone will ever keep them.

I love them. I know I'm not supposed to—the employee handbook says to maintain "professional distance"—but I can't help it. They're so honest. Humans, I mean. They don't pretend. When they're scared, they show it. When they're angry, they show it. When they're sad, they let themselves be sad instead of smiling and saying they're fine. I wish I could do that.

I grew up in a place called Sunmeadow. It's a little suburb where the lawns are always mowed and everyone waves at each other and nothing bad ever happens. At least, that's what it looks like. My family is... nice. We're very nice. My dad is a therapy dog at the hospital, and my mom teaches preschool, and my older brother Sunny is a lifeguard who's never met a stranger. My little brother Clover is in college studying plants. We're the nicest family you'll ever meet.

We never talk about anything real.

I don't mean that in a bad way. I love my family. But somewhere along the way, we all decided that being happy was the most important thing, and now nobody knows how to be anything else. If someone's sad, we bake them cookies until they smile. If someone's angry, we change the subject. I learned to be the peacemaker before I learned to tie my shoes. By the time I was e