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| Name: |
Nikita
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Age: |
Nine years old
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| Gender: |
Female |
Breed: |
Rottweiler |
| Home: |
Kelowna, British Columbia, Canada |
We
received Nikita from a friend April 14th 2006. When we got her, she
was extremely fat and needed a bit of work. The reason our friend gave
her to us was because of his job that kept him on the move all the time,
and he didn't always have a place to keep her. So, after the
llloooooonnnnggggggg car ride all the way from Calgary Nikita was
dropped off at our house without anything familiar and was left. For the
first few days we were actually thinking that she might pass away from
the stress of the situation; but she survived. The first time that we
gave her a belly rub, she started growling very loudly at us, so we
stopped. We have since figured that out. For the first month Nikita
wouldn't warm up to anybody in the house. I looked after her, took her
for regular walks, touched up on her training and kept her watered,
groomed and fed. I couldn't figure out the distant, distrusting look in
her eyes.
We soon discovered that Nikita is extremely afraid of water being
sprayed at her (we were trying to cool her down when it was a little
warm in Kelowna), petrified of the hose, scared of sticks being held up
like a bat, and once when my father yelled at her, she cringed and
looked ready to be struck ... please note that we would rather die than
strike an animal.
During the second month, we had a big break-through, Nikita and I. She
began to trust me, rely on me, and then it seemed that she was attached
by a string to my ankle. She looked in my eyes for the first time, and I
saw love ... Nikita hasn't loved or been loved in a long time. I couldn't
believe the connection I felt with her. Every time I went away for more
than a day, when I returned, she would barge through the door to see me
and chatter her teeth, her way of greeting exclusively me.
But I still had questions. I asked her former owner all he knew of her
history. He didn't know much, but he told me anyways. The story goes
like this: Nikita was probably a puppy mill dog. She ended up in an
abusive home early on in life. Eventually she was seized by the SPCA and
adopted out to what was supposedly a loving home. Her new owner changed
her name (no clue what it was before) and handed her off to a new home
almost every month as he traveled frequently. Nikita grew distant and
hardened and basically had to fend for herself. Many people began
training her, then gave up. She was a half-trained, self-serving yet
still friendly dog. Nikita has lived in at least fifteen different
homes in her life.
Now, Nikita has softened up. She is highly intelligent and enjoys
playing tricks on other dogs. One example was at our family reunion last
year, two other dogs were fetching a stick in the river, and Nikita
decided to play as well. She would let another dog grab it out of the
water then run up to them and take it. Once she took it and set it down
in front of a bush. Nikita hid behind the bush and watched and waited
for another dog to come grab the stick. When one did, she jumped out
from behind the bush and growled until the other dog dropped it. Nikita
can be such a clown sometimes...
Nikita is about as good a dog as you could ask for and yes I have gotten
two other people to agree that she is the best dog in the world!
Physically, Nikita has ailments: scoliosis (maybe), underbite, hip
displaysia, odd-shaped shoulder blades and the front two pads on each of
her paws are connected at the base. Bur mentally, she is totally sound.
Nikita is very gentle, for example to wake me up if she has to go
outside, she will lick my fingers and whine very softly. If my kitten,
Miata, lays on her bed, she will lay on the edge and allow him to sleep.
Last Christmas I received some shoes that I absolutely adored and she
guarded them all night for me.
Now I could go on forever about her, I love Nikita to bits and couldn't
ever imagine life without her.
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