I’m a sucker for blue eyes. As a kid I was surrounded by them — my mom’s eyes were changeable blue/gray and my dad’s the color of snow shadows. I was very surprised when I learned that most people in the world don’t have them. I don’t have them and neither did my brother. We both have/had green eyes.
This is pure personal taste, I think. They’re just pretty. I fell in love (lust?) with the Good X based partly on his blue eyes and some of the things he said. I fell for the Evil X (ewww) partly because of HIS blue eyes. Maybe we all have inexplicable soft spots in our brains for certain physical traits.
I’ve had 6 3/4 blue-eyed dogs. You’re worried about the 3/4? Ariel had one golden eye and one blue eye. Mathilda had a 1/2 blue eye.
Seeing Bear’s blue eyes looking out of a Facebook post a few months after Lily died pulled me to the shelter where, when she looked at me from inside the cage, I was sold. They seemed to be Lily’s eyes looking out at me from the face of a white puppy.
One day I was walking Bear and we met a little girl — maybe four years old — with her mom. Bear is so big and so white, soft and fluffy. She looks like a mythological beast. The little girl reached for her, then looked at Bear’s eyes and then at me, “Why are her eyes white?” It was a little Hispanic girl who lived and grew up in an eye-color world the opposite of the one in which I grew up. I asked Bear to sit. The little girl and Bear were pretty much eye-to-eye.
“Look harder,” I said. “What color are they?”
“Ooh! They’re blue!” She reached out for Bear who just sat quietly while the little girl stroked her head.
The mom — who’d been a little worried, I’m sure — and I smiled at each other. It was a beautiful tableau of discovery.