Birdie's hand is in mine as we follow my parents and Vida to the doors of the rescue my mom has been coordinating with. I'm not necessarily looking forward to this, finding a new dog feels full of pressure and overwhelming.
Blue was perfect.
And I know I'll never find another him.
We had to travel close to two hours to get to the rescue. It lays outside of Chicago in a rural area, houses spaced out and fields surrounding them. It's a gravel road that brings us pass a house to a large building with kennels surrounding. The place is well manicured and tidy, probably peaceful too if the sound of dogs barking wasn't echoing through the air.
My mom smiles at me, her eyes crinkling in the corner and I swear she's already tearing up. Anything sets her off. Birdie and I follow Vida into the building, our parents following. We're greeted by a large man with a deep voice and shaved head. Tattoos decorate his skin, his clothes lend more to biker gang than a dog rescue and hesitation blooms inside of me instantaneously.
I'm always waiting for men to be evil. It's not something I've been able to unlearn.
Birdie's hand squeezes mine and I watch as Vida greets the man, jutting her hand out like he couldn't swallow her whole.
"Between you and me", Vida tells the man, "we're really looking for two dogs. One for my brother and one for me." She says.
I hear my dad laugh beside me, my head turning to find him. It took me a long time to believe him. A long time to trust him but he's kept his word and I do believe him. He's protected me. His eyes meet mine, full of amusement and love and tension drains from my body.
"You've come to the right place then. My name is Eric." He extends his hand, my parents shaking it.
I don't make a move to continue the greeting, keeping my hand that's not holding Birdie's stuffed in my jeans.
"Hi, I'm Kendra Lincoln, I believe we spoke on the phone."
As my mom talks, my thoughts shift to Blue, specifically the day I got him. Going to that shelter nearby, the young boy with white blond hair and an infectious air about him. How he knew immediately Blue would be the perfect dog. In the years that have past I've thought about that kid, Elijah I think, and what he's up to. And right now, I can't help but wish he was the one that was here, not this other guy. I know that's impossible, this isn't even the same place and Elijah's probably grown, no longer working at the shelter but he was right. Blue was the perfect dog.
"Is there anything you want to add Holt?" My mom asks, my thoughts snapping back at the sound of my name.
I have no idea what's been said and now I've been caught being inattentive.
Her intuition though is always impeccable. "Anything specific you're looking for in a dog?"
Her voice is soothing, calm, coaxing answers from me I had no intention of withholding yet here I am, not participating in the conversation without prompting.
"I...uh..." I'm trying to think of how to word it, how to explain that Blue knew when it was time for quiet and when it was time for energy. How he always matched my pace, he always knew what I needed. "Active."
"We love to go for runs and walks." Birdie clarifies. "So I think a dog that likes to be active but not something that is high strung." She turns to me, her hazel eyes searching mine as she asks "does that sound right?"
I nod. I hate that I'm in my thirties and I still need people to limp me along in conversations. I want to be able to stroll in, much like Vida did, and strike up a conversation but even when I feel comfortable around someone, it still doesn't come naturally to me.
