To a good dog (Part one - The Great and Pathetic Plot)

My family got Wesley about a year or two after the death of the previous dog, Cassidy, who to be honest I don't remember very well. I saw a picture of a west highland white terrier in one of my mother's magazines. His eyes were shiny, his coat perfectly white, there was a curious and friendly tilt in his head. I was resolved that this would be my family's next dog, and this time he would be mine.

My plan was that if I visibly and pathetically longed for a furry companion (specifically this furry companion) then my parents would take pity on my poor soul and give in. Assigning myself "longing duty" for at least seven minutes a day I would wait until my family was up and about and sit visibly on the couch holding the advertisement with the westy on it staring into those sympathetic black dog eyes of his.

Christmas eve finally rolled around, being what i did not know then as my last Christmas eve in that home, state and region, the weather must have known so it provided us with a picturesque rare Delaware snow of about half a foot. Usually, due to being fairly surrounded by water Delaware mostly just ices into a frozen dangerous 9th Circle of hell. I knew I had to get the dog tomorrow or not at all so all day I was a jittery mess, waiting until a special package came for me.

My Dad was off buying his contribution to our gifts (he insists that once a year we get a toy, not just a kit, book, or sweater but a toy like a remote helicopter which he bought me for my 17th Christmas or the pooping rain deer he got me last holiday). It was late, the snow still falling on the two magnolia's in the front yard, when he finally got back. He came in through the back door as my Mom was pretending Santa wouldn't come this year because we were bad children, so naturally my sister and I were in the front room trying to convince her otherwise.

"Look what I brought!" my Dad yelled from the kitchen as a white slipper waddled into the living room after reliving himself in the hall. A red bow marking the puppy as a gift.

Screaming I jumped on the couch so he couldn't touch my legs, I had been terrified of dogs ever since I was attacked by a white Shepard two years earlier. I thought I had gotten over my fears...Apparently I was wrong.