And so we did.. Keesha's Story, Part 1

I want to write about what is going on with Keesha, but I don't even know how to start. Do I start with the terrible decision that I made last week? Do I start with the long, drawn-out war story or rather, stories that started in 2008, after we adopted her? Or do I start by saying "Thank you."?

Keesha came into our lives when our relationship was quite young. I was excited about helping the local rescue organization, Animal Compassion Network, and talked Brendan into going with me to buy dog food at their great dog non-profit pet store and foster dog kennel. The famous last words I heard as we both got out of the car were, "Cindy, we're not getting another dog!" I remember that I laughed to myself because Brendan sounded like my mother, "No more animals in the house!" So what happened next, was the last thing I expected. Brendan walked into Pet Harmony with me, and while I began the search for our brand of dog food, he wandered back there. He wandered into what I will refer to from now on as "The Vortex". The Vortex is where all sanity leaves, and nothing but pure emotion reigns supreme. Your familiar with it, even if you don't realize it. Walt Disney, Hallmark and Hollywood have monopolized on The Vortex. You've been there, done that.

I digress. I could have started this story by telling you that this was the precise moment that I learned that my boyfriend was emotionally sensitive. I knew that he was, but I do not think that I had any idea just how sensitive he was or how much it would dictate his actions. Never-the-less, after this day, I was to be fully aware of this aspect of my new lover's personality.

"Cindy!", came his voice from the kennel area. "Hey Cindy! Come here!" he called. As I walked towards him, and towards the back of the store I realized that I was seeing a look on Brendan's face I had never seen before. I can't really describe it. He appeared to be excited, and yet sad, at the same time. He appeared concerned, but like I said, excitement was breaking through around the edges. I turned my head, following his gaze, and there she was. Keesha was a hound mix, said her cage card. She was a 75 pound dog, white with black spots like she'd been sprayed with someone's paint brush. She has a perfect black spot on her lower back, above her haunches. The comical aspect of Keesha was her imitation of a cat. She was a tough looking broad, not a silky, long-legged dog. Yet, she was sliding up against that kennel like she was a cat rubbing around a favorite person's legs. I could almost hear her purr, but no matter, she was smiling and laughing as she did it. Keesha has one of the greatest smiles I have ever seen on a dog. I am biased, but I am also serious.

Needless to say, although Brendan was beyond hooked at this point, I was only able to offer up a very feeble protest, borne mostly out of concern for what my mother would say, rather than what I truly wanted, which was the same as Brendan. We wanted to take her home. We wanted to take her out from behind those chain links and love on her and hug her for as long as she'd let us. And so we did.