The Streak

It started when I was about 6 years old.  We already had a couple of sweet family dogs.  I knew Mom and Dad wouldn't let me have a third.  But I wanted a pet that I could call "mine".  Because I guess, some 6 year olds are like that.

So I asked for a kitten.  I begged.  I implied to my parents that I had thought long and hard about it and I knew I really wanted a white fluffy kitten with blue eyes- oh, and I wanted a girl kitty.  Somehow, I got them to go along with my plan.  We went and looked at a litter of kittens.  None of them white, or fluffy, or with blue eyes.  But I begged and I pleaded for one particular kitten there that was black, short haired, and green eyes.  Oh, and he was a boy kitty.  Somehow, I also convinced my parents to go along with this decision.

A few years later, when we had lost our dogs and it was time to find some knew ones, I told my parents that for my birthday, I really really wanted a Lhaso Apso.  A white one!  The first litter we went to see didn't have any white ones.  So I came home with a dark tan one with black markings.  She was the "runt" of the litter, and looked completely different than all the rest.  Once she grew into adulthood, it was clear she wasn't actually a Lhaso at all.  Which also explains why she was the "runt".

Then, fast forwarding about 15 years, Fermin and I went out looking for our first family dog.  We were interested in looking at Siberian Huskies and Golden Retrievers.  We were going to look at several litters of each and then find someone to love.  We never made it to any Golden Retriever litters, because, as my usual practice, we bought the first puppy we saw.  A Husky!

My streak.  Bringing home the first pet I look at.  It's hard to resist any puppy or kitty. 

And you might say, "Well, hey!  You found sweet pets, it all worked out, so stick with that streak, Kerri!"  But let me tell you, the kitty became a disaster of a cat.  He was mean, mean, mean!  He would sit in a pounce position on top of the dog house and wait for me to come outside.  He would then jump on me.  And not in a loving way at all.  I ran inside the house many days crying with bloodied arms.

The fake Lhaso also grew up to be a mean adult.  She would lay underneath my bed and growl and show her teeth as I tried to get out of the bed.  I had to make a flying leap to get out of my bed to avoid her bites. 

But the 3rd time was a charm.  I found my first Husky, and have been in love with the breed ever since.  And that first sweet Husky, Chloe, led me to Zoe and Scout.

Today I'm off to look at a litter of Australian Shepherds.  Thankfully, they're not yet old enough to be available.  I'm just looking.  I'm taking a friend with me for support.  There will be no snap decisions.  Lord, give me strength!!