I'd picked him out from 12 dogs in Isolation at Almost Home from Hounds. I spent only about 20 minutes with those boys, but it was obvious to me that there was just something about him. He's the black boy hanging in the back. It took 2 months, but he finally came to me. And within 36 hours he was gone from me.
It took less than that 36 hours to fall in love. I automatically called him Keeper and Handsome. He entered my home as if it was his. His joy at living a life loved was infectious. The plans we had. I got out of the shower, a day and a half since he entered my life, to walk onto the deck and call his name. There was no answering black streak. Racing in flip flops and towel to a black mark in the yard, I found him dead. The only mark on him, that of death. I fell to my knees. Begging, pleading, laying on my hands and willing him to live. I had been so open to love again, and he was gone. I'm so sorry Timmy for all you never had a chance to be.