Letter to Nikita
3 CommentsWednesday, 23 July 2014 | Kate
A year ago today you pitched up at my front door, all the way from Bulgaria on the front seat of a van (I've since found out it's because you don't 'do' back seats). I opened the door and there you were, bouncy, inquisitive, stressed beyond words, skinny, greasy, balding and, most importantly, mine. Quite literally you were my itchy dog.
The cats scarpered but they soon returned once they realised that you would scarf their food too if they left it unattended and that you weren't interested in them at all. In fact, Pearl as since gone on to become the boss of you, just as she is to the rest of us. So all is well and right with the world.
I weighed you that first day – 7.2kg in all your glory – you were scrawny, and that's being kind, I've put photos of your first day on here to show how bad you were. Your fur was patchy at best, revealing lots of pink and black 'piglet' skin as I like to call it. You smelled bad, especially your breath (not your fault, you weren't ever fed properly), your nails were very long and your hips were probably visible from the end of our road. So I set about fixing you up for your new life.
Maybe you knew that I was trying to do the best for you, because you stood in the bath and took all those neem washes I put you through. You even let me make crop circles in your fur when I slapped the coconut and neem cream on your skin rash every night. I detected a hint of pity in your expression that this was something I considered to be a fun thing to do on a Tuesday, but I let that go. Because I probably deserved it.
At first we speculated that you were a chihuahua with a bit of whippety something or other added to the mix. We really had no idea.
I put you on a varied diet; a bit of Nature Diet to start you off (not that you cared you literally inhaled food for the first few months), then onto Natural Instinct, a bit of raw chicken and a raw egg in it's shell, served up in the garden which really made your day. After a year we've worked out that cooked food works best for you. So there I am, cooking chickens and veg and mixing it all together with your Billy No Mates, Four Seasons, Seaweed & Parsley and Yumega Plus dished into it every day. I'm already planning your winter stews. Save your pity, you're gonna love it!
One year on and your fur is back, thick and soft, your eyes no longer weep and your fungal skin rash is a distant memory. I can no longer see your boney hips and your dog breath is under control, for which we're all eternally grateful
It's given me great pleasure to see you heal and go on to thrive. To learn to love the beach and the sea you almost swam in the other week. You now weight 8.5kg and I think that's the best weight for you. I'm sure half of it is fur now because you've grown it in ways I never thought possible. You have a fine set of fur chaps on your back legs, which I am most thankful for as it hides your pink bottom which I used to have to follow up the road. Your tail is nothing short of magnificent as it swishes to and fro. And don't get me started on your fluffy ears.
Now we know you're a collie cross, probably with some pomeranian thrown in and who knows what else. You fly like a rocket across the beach and Downs then come home to flake out on 'your' sofa until it's time for you to run through the hallway, nipping at the arm of my jacket which hangs off the bannister as you jog past, as if I needed any further reminder of what it is you're after.
Happy gotcha day, Nikita, I think you're all better now.
So, keep doing what you're doing – not managing to catch any squirrels, hiding from the big dogs, boiling half to death in the sun before dragging yourself back inside the house to cool off, eating bones, eating wood chips, eating the cat's dinner (she eats yours too just so you know), snagging the best spot on the sofa and generally being ace.
Thanks Nikita. You're an awesome little dog. Lots of love.