box of nightmares

We've finally managed to get a puppy, my love and I. After so much wanting, we found one that was affordable and a breed that I wanted.
We had set out on the road at 6 pm to go pick her up and didn't get to the owner's house until 9 pm. *3* hours worth of bloody driving had me pissed and wishing with all my heart that the drive wouldn't have been a total waste - that I at least liked the dog at least the slight bit. When we finally got there and saw the last two remaining puppies, we absolutely loved them. They were both ebony, but the one we chose however has a few minimal markings of ivory - a small touch on her chin as if she'd been drinking milk, down her chest as if the milk dripped down her front and the tip of her two hind feet as if she dipped her pawns in the saucer of milk.
She is absolutely gorgeous, with eyes of a deep emerald. As my patience wears thin with stupidity - and I've seen my fair share of stupid dogs - I prayed that she'd be intelligence and have a personality. So what was I really given, aside from an absolute beauty? I'm the proud owner of a two month old Cocker Spaniel and Pikanese mix with more personality and intelligence then that of more then half of the human population.

For that, I named her Pandora.