In late March 2015 Kelso and I had a talk. He told me it was ok for me to start looking for a puppy. For the second time in his whole life he looked into my eyes and I heard his voice. He said “I am ok. You should get a puppy.”
Early April 2015 a woman named Rachel shared a blog I wrote and I clicked on her name. I saw a picture of two beautiful border collies, and an announcement that she was hoping to have puppies in June out of these two lovely dogs. I messaged her, not expecting it to turn into anything. We talked for a long time. She answered all of my questions the way that I hoped she would. She even planned on raising the pups in Puppy Culture!
On May 1st, Kelso died. I was no longer excited about possibly getting a puppy. I was experiencing the most intense depression I had experienced in a long time. But something told me not to give up on this, not yet.
On June 3rd 2015, two puppies were born. I wasn’t supposed to get one, just by numbers. There were people ahead of me on the list, and Rachel had every right to keep him herself. But when I saw his face, I knew he was mine. I felt something deep down, and I knew. Rachel knew too, and two months later I was on my way to Florida to get the puppy I had named Felix Felicis shortly after he was born.
About a million things went wrong that rainy day in Florida and after sprinting to my gate with a puppy in a sherpa bag over my shoulder, I found that my flight back to Colorado was delayed; the only reason I didn’t miss it. So I sat down on the ground in the airport, opened the bag, and Felix crawled out, climbed up my chest, and his sweet little face with soft eyes said, it’s ok. We’re together now. It might have been the exhaustion or the stress or both, but I cried and he rested his little head on my shoulder. I knew Kelso had sent him to take care of me.

And take care of me he has! He is wonderful, and I feel so lucky to have him. Happy birthday, little man.