Nikita the Talking Dog

Nikita the Talking Dog
(born 10/6/94 - died 6/26/06)

Nikita came to live with us in the winter of 1994. Maggie spoke with Bobbie Palmer in Elkton Md, who was the breeder of our Koko puppy. Bobbie's bitch had a new batch of puppies and we made the journey to "just look at the pups". Maggie was captivated with the spunky gray & white female and we made arrangements to bring her home.

Nikita was the 2nd "purebred" to join our pack, boasting the unwieldy official name of Nikita Ma Pal Ted D Bear, born of father Champion Eldorado's Bobkat Ted D. Bear (Red & White) and mother Bobkat Cause for Celebration (Black & White). To us, she was Nikita puppy.

I named her after the heroine of the French film, La Femme Nikita. In the film, she was a drug addict that was turned into a government professional killer. And while Nikita Puppy didn't work for the government, she was deadly to small prey. I should have named her, Diana the Huntress. Throughout her life, Nikita enjoyed the smörgåsbord's of Nature. Walks with her frequently had a quick blur of motion, followed by the hapless mouse/vole's tail dangling from her mouth. "Hey, what are you eating!?". Gulp. "Nothing Mom, let's move on..." In her younger days, she was the chief enforcer of the "No Wildlife Allowed in the Back Yard" policy. She never seemed quick, was always just ambling along, and then, Wham! she struck. We'd find half-eaten squirrel bodies on the deck, and misc un-identifiable animal parts. Birds, squirrels, rabbits, voles, mice, snakes, groundhogs, possums and I'm sure more that I'm not aware of. Mice that came into our house for the winter had a life expectancy of under 24 hours. Our cats had nothing on her when it came to rodent catching.

The local bird appreciation society

Occasionally she moved on to larger game, much to our disappointment. We live in a semi-rural area, filled with farms and small developments. Once she got loose and was picked up by a good Samaritan.

Unfortunately she placed Nikita loose in her barn where there was a young lamb and all those who know and love Huskies know what happened next.


 The worst instance was shortly after we brought in Shaka from the SPCA to the pack. Shaka is a dog of many talents, but one they didn't tell us at the shelter was the ability to pick locks and open doors. It didn't take Shaka a week to figure out the sequence to open the gate in the fenced yard. A gate that had withstood the attempts of 4 previous huskies over many years. Shaka and Nikita were out and gone in a flash. Several miles away they happened upon a pen of show goats, and burst into it causing havoc. Total damages were in the multiple thousand dollar range. Nikita soon became known as the "thousand dollar dog".

Not withstanding her typical siberian predilection for dining on wildlife and domestic stock, she never had the slightest bit of aggression towards humans. Always submissive to humans, she was typically shy and reserved, hiding between my legs for her vet visits. A little patience and the visitor would be rewarded with lots of doggy kisses.

One of my personal nicknames was the "Official Greeting Dog". No matter how long it had been, or what time of day or night. I could always count on Nikita to be at the door to greet me home. This consisted of showering me with wet doggy kisses, frantically wiggling her body. and squealing like the pleasure of my return was too much to bear. Usually this was followed, sometimes leisurely, by the other dogs coming to see what all the fuss was about.








All nicknames aside, her REAL name was Nikita the Talking Dog. We've never had a dog with such a rich collection of vocalizations: growls, barks, chirps, warbles, howls and woos. All mixed together in a warm mixture of sound. Nikita always had something to say and we enjoyed every minute of it. Sad, happy, unhappy, hungry, sleepy, excited or bored, Nikita always had more than several mouthfuls to share with us and the world.









She was a beautiful example of a Siberian with a great thick coat that seemed impervious to the weather. I could tell it was her in the dark just by touching her coat. You could dunk her in the river and she wouldn't get wet. Rain or snow didn't matter to her. Water would bounce right off her. On the crappiest days, wet, snowing or sleeting, you'll find her contentedly moseying around the yard, totally oblivious to the weather.






The Mudders - partners in crime

 

In her younger days before the arthritis got bad, she was quite agile. One of her not-appreciated-by-us abilities was the talent to climb fences just like a ladder. 4 foot, 5 foot, 6 foot, it didn't matter. She didn't even need a running start. Just bump, bump, bump and over she went. Bandit usually took the under-the-fence route. But together they used to get out and roam, leading to my panic in discovering no dogs in the yard.



A search of the surrounding areas would usually turn up a pair of muddy dogs just romping about. When called, Nikita would come running up and hop into the truck. "What took you so long! I'm tired, let's go home."


As she aged, the arthritis took its toll, followed by developing congestive heart failure around 9 or 10. This necessitated a horrible development from Nikita's point of view: she had to go on a diet! Unlike Saber who never really cared a lot about food, both Shaka and Nikita were food hounds. Crunchies, biscuits, snacks, people food, cheese, and especially lamb and salmon were important items in their world.

High on the must-eat list was cat food, also enjoyed by Saber. Poor Saber though. He would barely have a lick or two off the cat food bowl before Nikita would put a hip into him and knock him out of the way. With the meds and the change in her diet, she managed another 3 more years with her pack. Toward the last year with us, her rear legs were pretty much useless and I retired her from the daily morning walk. Even though she physically couldn't go on the walk with the rest of the pack, she was with us spiritually and demanded her post-walk biscuit just like the rest of the dogs.






Nikita would come to bed with me to sleep by my side on the floor, wait until I fell asleep and then leave to keep Maggie company, and finally come back to sleep next to me for the rest of the night.






Nikita was 12 years old when she passed onto the Rainbow Bridge. She bore her disabilities with grace and never complained, only offering us her love. She will be greatly missed. Rest in Peace sweetie.