Keela
Growing up I was obsessed with the idea of having a chimpanzee as my best friend, so much so that I wore one of those stuffed monkeys with the Velcro arm everywhere. But of course, when my sister came into my room one night proposing we trick my parents into letting us get a dog, I knew her plan was wiser than mine (to snatch a monkey on our next vacation). Using all the skills she was taught in the grade five computer lab, my sister constructed a huge, intricate, professional contract no parent could turn down. All two pages of it were covered in clip art of dogs and the word “signature” was spelt wrong. We told our parents we would walk the dog and clean up after it and they just nodded their heads pretending they believed us. When mom and dad agreed to our terms, my sister and I high fived thinking we bamboozled them. What we didn’t know was they wanted the dog as much as we did.
We decided to name her Keela, an Irish name, since she was born on St.Patty’s day. When we brought her home, she was so tiny and shy; I remember my mom having to carry her everywhere outside because she hadn’t gotten her shots yet. She was my mom’s little baby. But we learned pretty quickly that we didn’t get just any dog, we got, and I quote ‘a dirty rotten devil dog’. Let’s just say our cute little Airedale didn’t have the easiest terrible twos. The little rascal would eat just about anything that wasn’t hers. In order to hopefully overcome her wild side we took her to puppy school. She completed the class just to eat her little doggy cap on graduation day. We were still very proud.
Each of our friendships with Keela grew stronger, as she nuzzled her way into everyone’s hearts. There was nothing more heartwarming than watching her bond with my grandpa. They became a little rascal duo. They would constantly play tug of war. He was the only one that wouldn’t get tired of her always running back with the same toy. I swear they would sit and laugh together at the silly comments grandpa would say to my grandma just to annoy her. I remember walking into the living room to hear my grandpa whistling and looking over to see Keela right next to him listening attentively like always.
When I was scared to be home alone or upset about something, I would lie on the couch with her and I would talk and she would rest her little paws on my shoulder. I would lay there next to her and she would never lose eye contact. She was giving me all her attention. When she got sick I felt our roles switch. She had been my friend for so long and I realized I needed to be hers. I started to look her in her eyes the way she did to always comfort me. I laid next to her on the cold tile; feeling every jagged, sharp breath when I pet her back. She looked at me and I could tell from her glassy eyes and hesitation between breaths, that even though we wanted her to stay she couldn’t. That afternoon my parents took her to be put down.
Later I went to open my backdoor and I could hear the whistling of my grandpa and the running footsteps of Keela hurrying to sneak outside. When I turned around I remembered she was gone. I thought of a line in a little story I wrote when I was in elementary school, called ‘life with a dog’, “when you turn around and it feels like they’re gone, you’re wrong, they’re there, you just aren’t looking in the right spot…try looking in your heart”. It was cheesy grade four me talking, but it still stopped me from feeling sad every time I opened the back door.
Even though it’s one of the hardest things to go through, I would go through it again and I choose to because there is something so special about having a dog; losing them is just a part of loving them. Even though I didn’t get the chimpanzee I wished for, I still ended up with an amazing best friend.
