Nicky

Not until I was in my twenties did I ever develop a true fondness for dogs. Oh, there were several over the years who sparked fleeting moments of affection. And in exchange for their temporary warmth, I spoke to them briefly and petted them. But my disinterest was quickly recognized for what it was, and their acceptance was always perfunctory.

Oddly enough, all of them were large dogs. One friend of mine had a black lab called Shane; another kept a collie named Fabian; a third showered his affection on a golden retriever called Elba. And while Elba seemed to take a special fancy to me every time I visited his owner, the others sniffed me until they were satisfied, solicited a few casual strokes, and then soon drifted off if I had nothing edible to offer. Why Elba was more strongly drawn to me I never quite understood. Several times when I was seated he even lay down at my feet.

Two weeks ago my friend, Jane, called me up apologetically and asked if I would watch her fox terrier, Nicky, for a few days. Her new job required her to travel occasionally, and one of those mandatory business trips had now come up. As I lived just outside Ephraim on County Highway A and Jane had a condo in Fish Creek, it took me no time to go over and pick him up.

Now, Nicky had never shown the slightest interest in me. This is not to say he was hostile, but rather just indifferent. In short, my presence in the house never seemed of interest to him, one way or another. Lacking an affinity to dogs in general, I didn’t care.

It was raining heavily when we left Jane’s, and Nicky’s muddy footprints were all over the front seat of my car by the time I got him settled and the door closed. Without thinking, I had left the window open so there was already plenty of water on the seat. But for some reason I was more annoyed by the water Nicky carried in…especially after he gave himself a few vigorous shakes…than I was by the rain that had entered through the open window. I loved that car. It was a Jeep I was still making big payments on.

My mood wasn’t improved when I got home, and Nicky stood with muddy feet on my new rug and shook again several times. To make matters worse, I discovered that in leaving in a hurry to get to Jane’s, I had forgotten to close my bedroom window, and rain had splattered all over my nightstand and my new Tom Clancy book. I could see that my relationship with Nicky was hardly beginning on the best of terms. He didn’t seem bothered by my predicament and went about checking the rooms of my small house. Knowing next to nothing about dogs, I didn’t think to dry him off with a towel or that he might be seeking a warm place to dry himself and then make himself at home.

It didn’t take him long to walk several circles on my bed with his muddy paws and then lay down. As it happened, the quilt covering the bed was hand made and had been a gift from my over-indulgent mother. Exploding, I angrily chased him off the bed with a golf club. But I realized as he walked about, looking for another place to land, I needed to put something soft on the floor for him. I found what I thought was just the thing in the form of an old woven mat that had been left in the laundry room by the house’s previous owners. Nicky’s look was one of contempt…at least that’s how I chose to interpret his queer expression.

At that point I knew it was going to be a night not without interest.

I gave Nicky a bowl of fresh water as Jane had instructed me, fed him from the bag of special food she had provided, and went to bed, more exhausted than angry…enough, in fact, to fall soundly asleep. If Nicky was restless or whined during the night, I never noticed. All I know is: I awoke early and there he was, curled snugly on the foot end of my bed. To keep himself warm, he had pulled a corner of the quilt over himself. He opened one eye as I stirred, clearly wondering what I planned to do about this latest transgression.

Still half asleep, I did nothing but get up slowly, stagger into the kitchen as I always did first thing in the morning, and make a pot of coffee. Then I showered and shaved. Nicky remained where he was, asleep, fortunately not snoring. I didn’t realize it then, but he had won the first round.

He was to score other wins.

The question of where Nicky was going to sleep at night…and during the day when he napped…being settled, four days later the issue of his food came up. It happened in this way: the day we ran out of his food, Jane called to tell me she was unable to return home in less than a week. The project she was working on had turned out to be more complicated than she expected. In effect, she didn’t know when she’d finish. She begged me to look after Nicky. She knew I worked out of the house, and she had no one else she could ask. I wanted to say, “I wonder why,” with searing sarcasm, but Jane and I were more than good friends, and I exercised admirable self-control. In short, I said yes. I’d look after Nicky for another week.

I was darned, however, if I was going to spend my good money on expensive dog food. He would eat what I ate. If it was good enough for me, it was good enough for him. I ate bacon or sausages and toast for breakfast, sandwiches with lunch meat or cheese at noon, and hamburger, pork chops or pasta for dinner. I shared every one of them with Nicky…and he loved it.

Every morning when I finished working, we ran for an hour before lunch and took a short nap in the afternoon. Then I returned to work. Nicky jogged with the best of them and never complained. By the sixth day he napped with me in bed and at night slept on the pillow next to me. Sometimes, I awoke with him cuddled up beside my chest. By the eighth day, we were the best of friends. We did everything together. He even got into the shower with me, and enjoyed every minute of it. When he shook himself off, splashing water everywhere, I just laughed and told myself, “oh well, it’ll dry soon enough.”

When Jane finally came to pick Nicky up, I had all I could do to let him go. It was like a vital part of me was being taken away. I had an even harder time suppressing the lump in my throat.