Nixta Rolls

In the run-up to Christmas, DMC persuaded me that getting a dog would be a great idea. I’ve got used to them over the past couple of years through my time spent at the beach house in Kismet where there would typically be at least one dog visiting over the weekend, and then this last year as we’ve dog-sat for our good friend Nicole’s amazingly docile and low-maintenance dog, Day-Z (here’s a video of her with Lindsay and Aaron and us at Woodstock celebrating the Obama election victory in November).

I grew up with cats (we still have one ageing Abyssinian/Tabby king in Slovenia, named Harry) and they’re so low maintenance that dogs worried me. I had also been taught only scary things about dogs (don’t play near them, don’t run near them, don’t eat near them, don’t pick up sticks near them, etc. etc.) which in Yugoslavia wasn’t too untrue - there are a lot of dogs there that just wander around and quite happily bark and show off teeth which, to a child very close to the ground can be very disturbing.

However, the beach house taught me that dogs don’t want to hurt you and actually like to behave for you. They have their own moods like cats, and have characters all of their own. They’re not all smelly damp slobbering bags of energy and with teeth, drool and halitosis at one end, and an ass and farts at the other - that’s 90% diet and parenting. Sure, they don’t go into the garden to take a shit and carefully bury it, but they will show you affection when you want it, not just when it suits them (if at all - cats can be very touch-and-go, literally).

Dogs are simple animals with simple needs. I also delved into The Dog Whisperer. Brilliant! It’s actually helped me a great deal with the beach house dogs, with Day-Z, and with the ding-dong in the videos above.

Day-Z, our borrowed dog, is the opposite of the needy dog stereotype. She behaves like a catdog. She doesn’t bark. She eats once a day. She craps once a day. She needs only a tiny short walk once a day and otherwise wants to hang out at home. When you’re out she doesn’t give a crap about other dogs and would rather sit on the bench with you than use the dog run.

I didn’t believe we could find a dog like that, but DMC started trying. She looked at all sorts of shelters and every single dog we liked had already gone (I guess there’s a Christmas rush for rescue dogs). Then one day we heard back about Nico (photos), a probably pure-bred stunning Siberian Husky, who we had assumed must have gone already. They liked our application and we went ahead and started the adoption process.

It is likely easier to get a child.

Nico came to stay with us on three separate trial occasions. 1 afternoon stay, then 1 overnight stay, then she hung out with us for 5 days. She liked us. We then finally got approval, paid the adoption donation (fee), signed the docs and now we’ve had her for a couple of weeks. She must be about 2 years old, perhaps very slightly less.

Here’s her story: She was found wandering the streets of The Bronx, and ended up in a kill shelter in Harlem. Stray From The Heart rescued her from there and she’s been beautifully rehabilitated over the past 13 months by her foster dad. She used to be afraid of men, didn’t know how to play, was nervous and shy. Now she’s pretty much a more affectionate Day-Z in Husky form. That means she needs more walks and has much more energy (though when we’re at home she’ll just curl up for hours), but I kind of like that. Gets me out of the house. You wouldn’t even know she was here half the time.

Note that the shoes she has (Muttluks) are not for her upcoming 80s revival dogrobics video, but rather to protect her feet from the chemicals and salt that have been strewn all over this city during the recent big freeze. When we find deep snow we can take them off and let her be a real husky, but that’s not so easy to find in the city.

I wrote this post perfectly aware that I’m treading dangerously into pitifully irksome new parent territory but people ask, so rather than explaining it all over and over again, I thought I’d post it once and for all…

And a word of warning. It seems that everyone (except their dog) has expert advice to proffer on how to look after a dog. I love advice from my friends, but here’s a message to the random strangers on the street.

To the crack-heads, the meth-heads, the lonely ex-dog owners, PETA pricks, and to the mildly and more deeply retarded who seem to think it is their duty to tell us a load of old bullshit every single day: Shut the fuck up already.