This is the story of three of my favorite companions.
Nikko, the accidental progeny of an opportunistic and adorable miniature schnauser named Harley and a distempered half chiuaua half pomeranian mother. Nikko came into my life eleven years ago, a furry piece of coal with a lust for life. She was so black that unless a sparkle of light hit her eyes, you couldn't see them. She is a native New Jersian, but has traveled with us to Minnesota, Mississippi and finally, Connecticut.
Today at eleven years old, she is slowing down, just a tad, but noticeably. Her eyes are no longer black, but have a cloudy blue tint. Her jet black fur is now quite heavily peppered with silver. Nikko is a vocal being. She has lots and lots to say. Everybody is her best friend. When you walk through her door, she'll tell you she's been waiting a long time to see you and is ecstatic that you came. There's lots to tell you. She also gossips frequently with the other dogs in the neighborhood, much to the neighbors' distress. If you scratch her back, she'll sing you a song.
In Mississippi I rescued a lhasa/poodle mix - Noodle. He was in bad shape, his eleven pound little body riddled with hook and heart worms and hit by a car. With the veterinarian's help, we nurtured him back to a fragile health. At which point the drive to breed descended on him. When Nikko had finished her heat I rushed her to the veterinarian for which I worked at the time, and requested that she be 'fixed'. The vet determined that she was not pregnant, but was not done her heat yet either, but 'fixed' her anyway. When I brought her home, she developed a strong attachment to her furry toys and Sean's stuffed toys, carrying them with her always and snuggling close to them. She also started lactating. I asked the vet about that, if she had been pregnant after all, and he maintained that she was NOT pregnant, and that this was a psychosomatic reaction. Go figure.
Noodle only survived a couple more years, he had been so badly injured he suffered a lot from debilitating seizures. I miss him still.
Its getting closer to the time where Nikko won't be jumping for joy when I get home, when she won't be excitedly running to me telling me Paul is home, or Crystal is here. A time when chasing the tennis ball will be too hard for her. She is getting old, my bouncy, 23 pound laughing companion. It's very hard and painful to imagine the day she doesn't share with me. We've shared so much for so long. She's forgiven me for so many things. I no longer take her on long wonderful hikes, five mile runs, or six mile roller blading forays. She never has gotten the hang of walking on a leash without choking herself, nor staying close by or coming when she is called, though not for lack of a huge amount of effort on my part. She is an independent spirit who can't get enough of running and smelling..."Oh what a GREAT world this is!!!!" her tail wagging a hurricane and I swear laughing and grinning to beat the band. Many times I have spent chasing her to get her back to the house/yard and safety, in a panic lest she bolt out in front of a car. Paul spent hours and hours putting in 'invisible fence' for her around our property, a good acre for her to safely enjoy and own, to climb the wood pile looking for that chipmunk, digging happily and flopping into the hole, looking back at me with the dirt caked in her glorious mustach and making me giggle, or playfully inviting Rocko or Beau to have a game of chase with her. More often now she chooses to watch the world go by. I look into her cloudy eyes and it seems like she has gained the wisdom that those experienced with life have - to expend energy only for the important things.
When I brought home Rocko six years ago, a cute fluffy little lhasa who reminded me of Noodle, Nikko climbed onto the arm of the couch and stayed there for almost a week. She looked down from her perch at this rediculous little thing with an expression of insult and injury and her usually perky little ears flat on her head. Rocko didn't even notice.
Rocko. He is scared of the world. I don't know how he developed these neurosis, but its really embarrassing. I need to tell our visitors that he needs to be left alone, please do not attempt to pet him until he has watched and determined that you are safe. He may come and say hello, but it has to be on his own terms. For some reason he absolutely HATES the man next door and does his aggressive stance with a bark to match. When Bob walks away, Rocko goes after him and bites at his feet. Nice. But he is loyal. His job is to protect me, at all costs and there is no doubt in my mind that he would lay down his life doing just that. I love the sentiment, but at eleven pounds, my protection is hardly guaranteed. In a situation where he has to choose eating or being with me, he doesn't even hesitate...its by my side.
Rocko is a character. He does NOT want to go for walks, he does NOT want to go for rides and in fact will hide under the bed if he gets one sniff of a trip to the groomers in his future. He is very sensitive to my routines, so that something out of the oridinary will find him with a stuffed 'lovey' in his mouth, watching from a safe distance. When I am puttering around the house, he will come up to me and quickly and gently touch his nose to my leg, and with a quick lick, just one, and lets me know he loves me. Then he lays down in the most comfortable spot he can find where he can still watch me. It never fails to make me chuckle. Inviting Nikko to play with him he pops his rear end in the air several times, as if he is getting ready for a jet-like take off. Nikko looks at him as if he is nothing but a dust bunny, then WHAM, she darts for his leg and the games begin...they are rolling around on the floor, pouncing and tackling each other and making me laugh like crazy because they are also under my feet.
At the food bowls they play a curious game, and I can't figure it out. Rocko stands in the doorway of the bedroom where their bowls are and pops his rear end in the air a few times to get Nikko's attention. When Nikko starts heading that way, Rocko darts for the food bowls, chooses one and stands there growling, looking at the bowl of food, then back at Nikko. Nikko sits at the other food bowl and looks at me with a silly hang-dog expression. "Mom, Rocko is being bad again". Thats what it looks like she is saying, but I laugh and tell her, "Go on and eat you silly girl, Rocko is just making noise". Sometimes Nikko will jump on the bed, and Rocko will go to the bed and bark at Nikko, with a little growl for emphasis, and run back to his bowl. They are so funny.
El Nino came into my life with Paul. He is an old man now, too. (El Nino, not Paul). A beautiful orange tabby, he weighs in at more than the dogs. We were concerned that Nikko wouldn't tolerate him, so had made other living arrangements for him when Paul and I joined forces. Those arrangements fell through, and that turned out to be a wonderful turn of fate. We planned the introductions carefully. Because he is the dignitary he is, El Nino did exactly the right thing when Nikko charged him for the first time...he didn't budge. Nikko is essentially afraid of cats, but can't resist chasing them. It throws her equilibrium off when she is confronted with one who stands up to her. And that is exactly what El Nino did. He's awesome. He earned the respect that Nikko and Rocko give him.
El Nino is smarter than every other member of this household, and doesn't hesitate to let you know that he holds the moral highground for tolerating you. If he desires, he'll let you pet him and enjoy his fur flying up your nose. What an honor he bestows! Like Nikko, he is very vocal and if something isn't to his pleasing or if you are not payiing attention to his wants, it will not be held secret.
I often wonder if he knows he is a cat. Because we only have the one, he is alone here in his species. I laughingly comment that he doesn't know if he is a dog or a human, but probably doesn't know he's a cat. He goes out with the dogs, and because he knows there is a treat upon returning, comes back in with the dogs, demonstrating clear distaste that they behave like out of control animals, while he gracefully meanders to the treat 'post'.
How rich these three characters make my daily life. Today I am grateful for their love and loyalty, and honor their tolerance of me, a lowly human.
Peace.
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