My Best Friend...Forever

The water lapped up underneath my chin and was beginning to cool off, giving me a chill. I reached up with my big toe and turned on the hot water, a tear rolling down my face when I thought about my puppy Holbrook. He was a rotty, but was also mixed with something else much bigger, making him a very formidable sight, but he was a lover. My chin began to quiver and I wanted to duck under the water until I quit blowing bubbles, anything to end the gripping pain I felt inside.

No children to divide in the divorce, just the animals, and I was living in a small subsidized apartment where large dogs weren't allowed, but it was the only place I could afford. I felt like a bottom-feeder in a school of trout, wanting only to go back to my comforts but knowing I had to push forward and strive to be like the other trout if I ever wanted to do better. Every time I called to check on Holbrook I was told he was fine and needed to stay there. I visited him a few times and the last time I saw that he had destroyed a sofa and loveseat, but I guess he was fine where he was, at least according to my ex.

I sunk down under the water and pulled the plug before I changed my mind and decided to take the dive, end the pain. I knew that wasn't the answer, and didn't think I had it in me to hurt myself when all was said and done. How would I ever get Holbrook back if I took the cowards way out; I couldn't think about that.

When I went to the dresser to get a bra, I pulled out my favorite one with the lace around it, and the top strap went limp where Mr. Holbrook had chewed it in half. The hot tears flowed like water, burning my skin as they ran down my face. I couldn't keep on this way, I had to do something and I had to do it today. Fifteen minutes later I was headed to the shelter to look at the dogs, the only thing I could think of to lift my spirits. The choices were endless. Of course there were two litters of puppies that would get adopted in no time, a few very old dogs that probably were left by families who couldn't deal with death, a lot of barking dogs and a few that had given up and didn't even respond when I walked by. On the far end near the back door were the dogs that were slated to be put down. There was only one dog there that day, a very thin dog with hardly any hair. She looked up at me with hope in her eyes, and I felt like the Governor trying to decide if I should make that last minute call and save her life. The helpers told me her name was Tauri, and she had only a few days left before being destroyed. I went straight to the front desk and told them I would take her, but they said I had to get my landlords approval in a letter before they could let me adopt her. The three day deadline was apparently on in spite of the fact it was a weekend and they knew someone wanted her. Her...I had never owned a female dog before.

My landlady was out but I managed to catch her just under the time allotted for the poor little dogs demise. The day I picked her up she almost strutted out to the front desk, a sense of pride in her steps that said she was as good as all those other dogs that got a home before her. I immediately took her to the dog park where we walked and walked and played in the water. She was shy, skinny and afraid of everyone and everything. This poor dog had been so abused she would stand behind me and shake when someone came by.

Time went on and with a lot of love and patience, she grew more hair and I knew she wasn't a hairless, she put on a little weight, and began to see that not everyone was mean and out to hurt her. She became my best friend in the world, and remains so to this day. She will be 14 in July. Thank you Tauri for all the wonderful years, and for healing my heart when I couldn't have my puppy Holbrook. You are the best!