I’ve been thinking a lot about daisies.

There are a lot of daisies about which to think: African, Barberton, Blue, Blue-eyed African, Dahlberg, English, Globe, Gloriosa, Kingfisher, Livingstone, Marlborough, Michaelmas, Mount Atlas, New Zealand, Ox-eye, Painted, Rain, Rock, Shasta, Star, Swan River and Transvaal.

A lot, indeed.

That list is from the common names section in the back of “The American Horticultural Society A-Z Encyclopedia of Garden Plants,” which goes into great detail about each daisy, with a bevy of mouthwatering pictures showing mind-boggling variations on the daisy theme.

Most of the aforementioned daisies are part of the Asteraceae, or aster, family, of which there are about 1,100 genera and 20,000 species worldwide, according to the National Audubon Society’s “Field Guide to Wildflowers Eastern Region.”

It and the orchid family are the two largest plant families. The aster family encompasses an incredible range, everything from sunflowers, cosmos, zinnias and dahlias, to artichokes and some lettuces, to poisonous species such as broomweeds, bitterweeds and groundsels.

All of which means you can’t escape contact with the daisy family. Unless you’re off the planet.

Over the years, I’ve grown a number of daisies. The African daisy is wonderful in more arid spots in the yard. The English daisy I’ve grown from seed quite easily, although it has proved to be but a biennial for me. I adore Gloriosa (aka Rudbeckia) daisy’s vibrant colors in the late summer garden, while the Painted daisy is a like a bouquet of fruit punch in the summer. Shasta daisies always provide a cool counterpoint in any garden setting, and I have seeds to try a newer Shasta variety, ‘Crazy Daisy,’ with double flowers that look adorably wild.

I’ve been thinking about daisies’ fortitude as well. Daisies can be deceptive, swaying in a gentle breeze – I’m picturing the Ox-eye daisy here, big, bold, breathtaking fields of them – looking delicate and vulnerable.

Not so much.

The Ox-eye daisy, Leucanthemum vulgare, is considered a wildflower by those who like it and a weed by those who don’t – up to 1 percent of its seeds can remain viable for nearly 40 years. The Ox-eye adores fields and meadows, making it the bane of farmers, especially those with cows. Turns out that daisy-eating cows produce odd-tasting milk.

The Ox-eye daisy came to the Americas with the colonists, so it could be considered an invasive species. However, if it has been here for several hundred years, I think we ought to cut it some slack. I prefer to focus on something more annoying and less pretty, such as the Japanese beetle.

According to a delightful Web site, www.daisybooks.com, which pays tribute to its namesake by detailing its history, the daisy family has been around for 50 million to 60 million years, since “just after the downfall of dinosaurs.”

Daisies were depicted in stone carvings from around 3000 B.C., according to the Web site. They even adorned the hieroglyphs on the graves of the pharaohs (there’s a great picture online), the artistic structure becoming “more complex through the course of each dynasty.”

There’s another reason I’ve been thinking a lot about daisies.

This one came to me six years ago, in the February cold. And it was in this year’s February cold that I was faced with the harsh reality that my delicate flower was ill, so ill that I thought she was dying.

And she was.

My Daisy is my dog.

We spent the month of February trying to figure out what was wrong. Each day that passed had me more and more worried because she became more and more ill.

In some ways, it was a relief finally to pinpoint what was wrong for it meant we now had a plan of action.

It doesn’t make the diagnosis any easier.

Daisy has lymphoma.

Cancer.

March 1 she had her first chemotherapy and spent the next 48 hours hospitalized as that first drug struck at the cancer cells that had invaded much of her body.

She was transformed. Within 24 hours, I noticed major changes in her: A lump that had developed under her right eye was nearly gone, and the lymph nodes in her neck went from hard to smooshy.

Within 48 hours, she was bouncing around, wagging her tail and actually sniffing food. She started eating on her own again on the third day.

Five days after her first drug, she got her second drug, this one made from a plant, Vinca rosea. She came through that with flying colors.

Last week’s treatment was canceled when her white blood cell count dipped too low for treatment. So we waited for this Tuesday’s count to see whether she could have her second round of chemotherapy. It was a go.

Amid last week’s disappointment was something to keep us going each day. Daisy’s oncology veterinarian, Dr. Stephanie Monk, said that she believed Daisy was in remission.

That brings me to the meaning of Daisy, which comes from Old English, daeges-eaye.

It means day’s eye.

Yes, she is the eye of my day.

Janine Pineo’s e-mail address is jpineo@bangordailynews.net. Janine and Daisy want to thank Daisy’s caregivers from Corinth to Orrington to Brewer to Veazie, especially her cancer-care folks, Stephanie, Darby and Darrell.