𝘼𝙁𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙒𝙀 𝘾𝙍𝘼𝙎𝙃𝙀𝘿 ↣ 𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝘿𝙄𝙍𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉

30. SEEING BLIND

After the kids got out of school, we went to an animal shelter.

"No crusty white ones," Louis said sternly when he put the car in park outside, "and let's steer away from Great Danes."

"Because they're bigger than you?" Karter asked.

"Oh, harsh," Keenan laughed. Louis shook his head, visibly trying to fight a smile off of his face. He could act like he didn't want a dog all he wanted, but I watched him buy 300 dollars worth of dog toys, bowls, and beds.

The four of us walked inside and after a quick conversation, we were being led to the kennels. Karter rested his hands on Keenan's shoulders and steered her behind Louis and I.

"What kind of dog were we thinking of? Something big, something small?" The kennel hand asked.

"We don't know," I said, "somewhere in the middle?"

"Well," the girl said, "go ahead and look around and I'll come back and check on you in a few minutes."

"Thank you," Louis said.

"Course," the girl said. She smiled and walked backwards, leaving the four of us alone. I looked back at the kids.

Keenan was already on her knees on the dirty concrete, hand poked through the fence to scratch a dogs' head. Karter squatted beside her and pushed his fingers through as well. Both kids were smiling, obviously amused.

Louis and I looked at each other. He looked happy.

And to think he didn't want a dog.

The four of us moved slowly through the kennels. At the end, in the very last kennel, was a dog named Tri-Pod.

"Tri-Pod?" Karter asked. At the sound of the dogs name, his ears perked up and he stood up from his place on the ground. It was then that we realized why Tri-Pod was the name.

The dog had three legs.

"Oh, cool," Keenan laughed. She squated down again and wiggled her fingers through the fence. The brown dog walked over and rested his head calmly in her hand. "This is the one," she said firmly.

"This is the guard dog you envisioned?" Louis asked, peering at it curiously.

"Be nice," I laughed softly, nudging him.

"It has three-"

"I have one," I challenged, raising my eyebrows.

"She got you there," Karter laughed. He bent down next to Keenan. Through the gate, Tri-Pod licked his fingers.

"How're you guys doing?" The kennel hand reappeared, with a clip board and a leash.

"Good," I said. "We're thinking about this guy," I nodded to the dog.

"Oh, Tri-Pod?" she asked ecstatically. "He's been here for a few years. He's house trained and good with cats, and probably about six years old."

"Good with cats?" Karter asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"We're not getting a cat," Louis said firmly.

-

We left the shelter with a dog and a cat.

Tri-Pod, the three legged dog, sat between Keenan and Karter with drool hanging off of his tongue. Karter was holding a (very ill-seeing) black cat called Void.

Louis shook his head as he drove. He was amused by the situation, but trying very hard to hide it. It was almost funny to watch. Tri-Pod licked his cheek and stumbled forward when the car slowed. His one front leg wasn't enough to help him keep his balance with his paw on the center council.