Around 4 years ago, I saw photos of newborn puppies posted by a friend on Facebook. I’m not particularly fond of dogs — they make too much mess in the house — but for some reason, this set caught my attention. So after getting permissions from mom and dad (I was still in college), I visited my friend’s place to check out the puppies and see if I could buy one.
They were an odd breed: a mix of some kind of terrier and poodle (they sometimes call this mix toodle or terripoo). I like odd things and they were terribly cute little odd things, so I got a bit excited to choose which baby to adopt. The pups were real friendly and kept on jumping at us and each other. All except one. One little black thing was hiding under the furniture. His fur was dark and wavy except for that part under his chin all the way to his chest and tummy. That part was white. And oh, also his left paw. If I remember correctly, they called him Boots for that reason. His eyes were blue the way I notice most black puppies’ eyes are. He was shy and wasn’t as playful as the others, and it didn’t seem like he totally liked me. I thought that was the most charming thing. I took him home that day.
So home I went with the black puppy with a white paw, whom, after some thought, I’ve decided to name Zachary Scotch. “Zachary” because that’s the name of the black ranger from Power Rangers, and “Scotch” after the alcoholic drink. I just think it sounds good. At home, we call him Scotch.
So that was how I met what I never knew was to be my bestest companion.