Daisy Duck is five years old, 44 pounds of grey and white radiance with longer, prettier fur than she has any right to have. She walks into every situation — the brewery, the park, the kennel halls — with the kind of warm, unhurried confidence that takes most people decades to develop (and some never manage at all). She is genuinely, uncomplicated good: housetrained, polite on leash, gentle with toddlers, easy with other dogs, knows sit, takes treats like a lady, and when her walk is over she re-kennels herself and lies down to wait for her cookie. Which, if you think about it, is more self-possession than most of us can claim on our best days. Every single person who has walked her has used the word "easy", and not in the way people say when they mean boring. She is steady and sparkling and entirely, irresistibly yours, and she is waiting. Patiently, luminously, with that big open heart for someone to finally, correctly, choose her.