Kelsey McGee Scott

This is really the classic “A Boy & His Dog,” or really better told, “A Dog & Her Boy.” Her name is Kelsey McGee, and I’m her boy, Shannon. Her favorite words are “cemetery” and “beach,” along with “ride,” which to her means she’s going to one or the other. People who know us know we’re rarely found anywhere else. We’ve literally explored hundreds of Southern graveyards and cemeteries, and Hunting Island, SC has been our beach for over a decade. We’ve been joined at the hip since adopting her in 2012.

Kelsey’s road to a Forever Home has been a precarious one. In ways, it all began hidden inside of a dirt hole where some misguided teenager had placed her, thinking she’d make a great bait dog for dog fights. Which is why, looking at the end of Kelsey’s tongue, you can see a little torn sliver, reminding us of what she escaped. Eventually, the receiving shelter let Kelsey hang around over 3 months because they said when she sat down, she did a “gorilla sit,” and according to them, that made her special. I know that intimate detail because I volunteered there 4 days a week. With some alarm, I also learned she was on the Doggy Death Row’s short list, per such ominous signs on cages. One day, while pulling her gorilla-sit pose, Kelsey just looked up at me from behind her cell door with this unblinking, upward glance, and I recall it like yesterday. She sighed, impatiently, as if her eyes were expressing, “This place is boring – when are you doing the paperwork?” And that was it. We never looked back at that place. She was my prize for getting all of the other doggy souls out of there.