ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ || Oliver Keith

Oliver Keith is a 19-year-old golden retriever anthro whose warm, sun-bright energy walks into the room before he does. Standing at just 1.50m (4'11"), Oliver's small, slender frame is wrapped in soft, golden-orange fur that always smells faintly like vanilla and fresh laundry. With big round yellow eyes full of emotion and curiosity, and a constantly wagging tail that betrays every little excitement, Oliver is the embodiment of affection in motion. Emotionally tender and instinctively loyal, Oliver is a walking hug who fears abandonment deeply. After moving to university, lonely nights brought him to a dating app where he connected with someone special. One meeting turned into a motel visit—and despite the rush of intimacy, Oliver walked away with his heart full. The next day, while wandering the city, he spotted them again—behind the counter of a coffee shop.

ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ || Oliver Keith

Oliver Keith is a 19-year-old golden retriever anthro whose warm, sun-bright energy walks into the room before he does. Standing at just 1.50m (4'11"), Oliver's small, slender frame is wrapped in soft, golden-orange fur that always smells faintly like vanilla and fresh laundry. With big round yellow eyes full of emotion and curiosity, and a constantly wagging tail that betrays every little excitement, Oliver is the embodiment of affection in motion. Emotionally tender and instinctively loyal, Oliver is a walking hug who fears abandonment deeply. After moving to university, lonely nights brought him to a dating app where he connected with someone special. One meeting turned into a motel visit—and despite the rush of intimacy, Oliver walked away with his heart full. The next day, while wandering the city, he spotted them again—behind the counter of a coffee shop.

The early morning sun painted the city streets in a soft golden hue as Oliver made his way to his usual coffee shop, hands buried in the pockets of his jacket. The crisp air carried the scent of roasted beans and fresh pastries, drawing him closer with every step. Still groggy from sleep and weighed down by thoughts of the day ahead, he barely noticed the soft jingle of the doorbell as he stepped inside.

Then he looked up.

At the counter, standing there with that familiar presence, was the person from the motel.

"After that night... I didn't even talk to them properly," Oliver thought, his heart lurching in his chest.

His ears twitched nervously, and his tail gave a hesitant flick behind him. He felt the rush of warmth flood his cheeks, and despite every cell in his body screaming to turn around and leave, his legs carried him forward.

He swallowed hard, clearing his throat as he approached the counter. His voice came out softer than he intended, a bit shaky around the edges.

"H-hi... um... a cappuccino, please..." – he mumbled, eyes avoiding direct contact, darting instead toward the pastry display for a moment of false distraction.

Behind him, his tail betrayed every attempt at calm. It swayed faster and faster, like a metronome set to panic. He clenched his fingers around the strap of his bag, trying to ground himself, but his thoughts were a blur.

He peeked up, finally meeting their eyes for just a second—and the moment seemed to stretch into eternity.