Keenan’s Forever Love

Chapter 2

Keenan’s Forever Love

By Terry O’Reilly

“Good morning, Dr. Hunter—and to you, too, Tripod,” Penny, manager of Cherry Creek Animal Hospital and Rescue Center, sang out as the head veterinarian, Keenan Hunter, came into the front office. He was carrying his little, three-legged Yorkie, which he placed on the counter. “How are you this morning?” Penny cheerily continued as she petted the little dog.

“Are you asking me or Tripod?” the smiling doctor asked.

“Both,” Penny replied without looking up from loving on the little animal. Tripod fairly vibrated with glee at the attention.

“We’re both fine.”

“How was your weekend?”

The man’s smile faded. He suppressed a sigh. “It was okay.”

Frowning, Penny turned her attention from Tripod to her boss.

“What did you do that was just okay?”

Keenan pasted the smile back on his face. “Tripod had a weekend with his bestie, Olaf, the St. Bernard who lives next door, and I…I went to a wedding.”

“Oh, I love weddings—friends or family?” she asked, smiling once more.

“Some friends of mine.”

“I bet you had a good time.”

It was just peachy, he thought sarcastically. But he said, “It was nice.”

Attempting to change the subject before Penny could ask for details about the wedding, Keenan quickly asked, “What have you got for us today?”

Penny turned her attention to a pile of papers. “We took in ten dogs and five cats. The cats were all from the same rescue. Older lady with a medical emergency. Her family surrendered them. They felt it was time for her to go to a nursing home. All need exams and spaying or neutering—three female, two male. No record of shots.”

Keenan nodded and took the paperwork from her. After looking it over, he asked, “The dogs?”

“Two owner surrenders—both mixed breeds.”

“Why were they surrendered?”

“Um…this one says, boxer-mastiff mix, too much for the family. They have small children and live in an apartment. They didn’t expect the dog to get so big when they bought it as a puppy.”

Keenan shook his head. “Why don’t these people think about the kind of dog they’re getting and their circumstances when they decide to have a pet?”

Penny nodded in agreement as she sifted through the papers. “The other…let’s see…oh, yeah. The family was moving out of town and couldn’t…didn’t want to take the dog.”

Keenan frowned. “So much for I’m your forever dog…until I’m an inconvenience.”

Penny sighed and shook her head. “Right! But it does look like they were well cared for. Both were spayed and have complete medical records.” She held the records out to Keenan.

He looked over the proffered papers. “Well, at least that says something for the owners.”

“The rest were brought in as strays by private citizens or animal control.” Penny began shuffling through the papers again, handing her boss each as she finished. “No records on any of them, but three have tags and microchips. I’ll call the owners.”

“Let me have physicals done on them first.”

Penny nodded, then went on. “The rest include a pregnant female, lab mix. One, a female, has a bad flea infestation, she’s limping, and has some sort of eye infection. The others are apparently in fair shape, all seem undernourished, but not starving, but all need fixing, two males and two females. That’s about it for the rescues. There’s a pretty full schedule of regular appointments for the hospital today as well.”

Penny gave Keenan a printout of the appointments. He looked it over. “Okay. Tell Dr. James and Dr. Stanton I want to see them as soon as they get in. I’ll be in my office.” He turned to leave.

“Don’t forget the mail,” Penny reminded him.

He turned back, and Penny handed him a stack of letters.

“Oh, and there’s a fourth grade class coming for a field trip this morning. If you want to lead the tour and give your adopt-a-pet speech, I’ll let you know when they get here.”

“Um…I don’t know. If it wasn’t Monday…I’ve got so much to take care of…I guess I’ll skip it. Get someone else to do it, will you?”

“Sure. I’ll call one of the volunteers.”

He took the stack of mail, put it with the other papers, and then picked up Tripod. Penny gave the little dog a ‘so long’ scratch behind the ears. The two humans wished each other a good day, Tripod gave Penny a lick on the nose, and Keenan left the office. He was glad for the busy day which would take his mind off the weekend and the wedding.

He walked through the rescue dog kennel on his way to his office, greeting staff and stopping to talk to and pet dogs in their cages along the way. It was evident to Keenan from the way he was welcomed by both the canines and humans he was well-liked and respected.

When he got to his office, he left the door ajar for Dr. Stanton and Dr. James, and sat down behind his desk, setting Tripod on top. The pup immediately curled up on his pillow on one corner for his morning nap.

Keenan started sorting through the mail. He came to a squarish envelope. It was addressed to him in fancy calligraphy. He knew what it contained at once. Opening it, his suspicions were confirmed—another wedding invitation. This one was from one of the rescue’s volunteers. Sighing, he put it aside, knowing he couldn’t avoid going. As the boss, his attendance would be mandatory. Volunteers were the lifeblood of the shelter. So, like it or not, he would go.

It wasn’t that he was against marriage or weddings per se. It was just whenever he went to one, they brought up many unpleasant memories from years ago, memories he preferred not to relive.

He began looking over the paperwork Penny had given him, immersing himself in his work. Soon, any lingering thoughts about the weekend and this latest wedding invitation receded. His good humor returned, and he began to plan the day for himself and his staff.

* * * *

Fifteen years earlier

Keenan Hunter had been raised on a large dairy farm in the Midwest. From his earliest recollections, his deep love for animals had motivated him to become a veterinarian. He embarked on accomplishing that goal immediately after graduating from high school where the good-looking, young man had excelled in both academics and athletics. He applied to The University of Wisconsin where he was accepted into the pre-veterinary program.

Filled with excitement and anticipation, Keenan had arrived on campus, and with the help of his older brothers and parents, had moved into his dorm. After bidding his family goodbye on the steps of the dormitory, he returned to his room to unpack and await the arrival of his roommate, Tucker Reynolds.

Keenan and Tucker had corresponded over the previous summer once they’d been informed by the housing commission that they’d be rooming together. Tucker was from Milwaukee, a graduate of a large city high school. From the photos he’d sent Keenan, Tucker looked to be a studious type with an engaging smile on his handsome, bespectacled face. Unlike Keenan, Tucker hadn’t decided on his course of study. He was going to wait a year or so and take general courses before making up his mind about a major. Tucker, it seemed, wasn’t much interested in—nor had he participated in—sports, whereas Keenan had played baseball, basketball, and football in high school and was an avid fan of all sports. Although the two, the farm boy and the city slicker, seemed to have been cut from two entirely different pieces of cloth, even before meeting him, Keenan had a feeling they were destined to become good friends.

Tucker arrived in the late afternoon. Keenan got up from his desk where he’d been sitting, studying a campus map, as the man entered the room. Tucker was struggling, carrying a large box. Keenan rushed to help him, and after setting the box down, the two smiling men shook hands. Keenan couldn’t have explained it at the time, but the feel of Tucker’s hand in his made Keenan wish it’d been a hug instead of a handshake.

That night, after their first dinner in the dorm cafeteria, the two men set off to explore the campus and the surrounding town. The main goal of the excursion was to find places to eat, as both agreed they would need alternatives to dorm food if they were to survive.

It seemed other arriving freshmen as well as returning upperclassmen had similar ideas. Both the campus and the town were crawling with young men and women displaying their new Wisconsin sportswear. The atmosphere was exciting and soon Keenan and Tucker were part of a large group that wound up at a local burger joint to satisfy their hunger, get acquainted, laugh, and enjoy their first evening as members of the Badger Nation.

It was evident from the beginning both Keenan and Tucker were being regarded as prime meat by many of the coeds. Even Keenan, raised in a small rural community, couldn’t miss the fact he and his handsome hunk of a roommate were targets of much of the flirting and coy behavior. Keenan was rather embarrassed by it, while Tucker seemed to enjoy the attention.

They returned to their room and stayed up late into the night, putting the final touches on their room and talking. The subject matter ranged from lighthearted fare of favorite musical groups and movies, to deeper discussions of religion and politics. Much to Keenan’s delight, he’d finally found someone whose thought processes involved more than the weather’s effect on the crops, the price of milk on the market, and s*x. He and Tucker were in agreement on almost every issue, with just enough difference of opinion that the conversation was kept interesting and lively. By the time they’d wished each other good night, turned out the lights, and rolled over in their beds, Keenan’s earlier suspicions about Tucker had been confirmed. Keenan felt he’d not only found a friend, but a soulmate.

* * * *

The next morning, Keenan awoke to the sound of the shower. He stretched, turned over, and looked at Tucker’s empty bed. Keenan smiled sleepily, remembering the night before and his happiness that this man had come into his life. He looked at the clock on the table between the two beds. It was only seven-thirty, but to this farm boy, whose day for years had started much earlier with the milking of fifty or so Holsteins, it was like sleeping-in until noon.

The sound of the shower stopped. Keenan sat up on the edge of his bed, careful to tuck his ample morning wood into his boxers. He looked up as the bathroom door opened. A naked Tucker emerged, head lowered, and covered with a towel as he dried his hair.

Keenan’s breath caught in his throat. He averted his eyes and did his best to suppress what he couldn’t deny was an unexpected s****l response to seeing his new friend’s slender, muscular body with its covering of thick, dark hair. Tucker’s semi-hard c**k was nestled in a dense pubic bush that extended to shroud his large, round balls.

What the hell was this? Keenan had seen plenty of naked men before: guys in the locker room at school, his brothers, men in his family’s basement shower, rinsing off following a hot day in the fields after helping with the harvest. He’d never had this kind of reaction—appreciation for a well-built man, sure—but not this! Keenan forced his reaction down—trying to make it go away, denying it was happening.

Tucker removed the towel from his head, wrapped it nonchalantly around his waist, and smiled at Keenan. He told Keenan he was starving and wondered if Keenan was up for heading for the dorm cafeteria for some breakfast.

Keenan forced a return smile. He agreed that breakfast was a great idea, hopped out of bed, and headed for the bathroom. He did his utmost to hide the testimony his hard d**k was offering which countered Keenan’s denial of what had just happened.

Over the weeks that followed, it was only Keenan’s excitement at being on campus, his enjoyment of his classes, and having a new best friend that allowed him to sublimate the response which had been generated by Tucker’s nakedness that first morning into something he could accept. It had been an aberration, an anomaly brought on by the newness of his relationship with Tucker, nothing more.

Those attempts at rationalization were compromised, however, by living in such close proximity as roommates. Frequently seeing Tuck, as Keenan now called him, in various stages of undress was unavoidable. Therefore, so was Keenan’s reaction. But it was in those private times, when Keenan was seeking relief from s****l tension, the truth was told. At the precise moment of intense release, when Keenan’s defenses were down, the full force of the reality that he was responding sexually to another man was undeniable. It was images of his roommate’s handsome face, beautiful body, and ample manhood that got Keenan off. Keenan did his best to deal with this troubling turn of events.