Nala

Hello Out There From Nala and Heather

The other day I found myself telling my daughters, "The thing about Nala is when you grow up, you're going to have some great stories to tell your kids." 

Nala is our five year old Golden Retriever, a beautiful dog, swift and graceful (though the vet says she needs to lose a few pounds), friendly and sweet (though she still could rival Pooh's friend Tigger in the jump department), and a loving look in her deep brown eyes, that can see into your heart and melt it (if she ever sits still long enough to let it happen). 

As I write, she's here by my side, sleeping contentedly, paws dreamily twitching now and then, but I remember her first years when I had trouble writing because she'd nip at my moving wrists; I couldn't get more than a few words down at a time between swatting, cussing and tossing rawhides. I hadn't thought of that in a while until I recently spoke with my past editor and she asked if Nala still was doing that. "No," I told her, laughing at the memory, sort of embarrassed but mostly glad my dear dog has broken that habit.

Nala still nips, though, and her favorite things now to nip instead of wrists are socks. More specifically, socks with feet in them. Usually this happens before my two girls (7 & 10) go to bed. I guess somebody needs to stir it all up. She begins with a single throaty sound that's a cross between a moan and a growl, then she pounces. She grabs whatever's closest, and often that's a foot. She gets on a roll and may let go of the foot to grab something else, maybe a stuffed animal, dirty laundry, her dog bed, maybe somebody else's foot, whatever she can get a hold of, a gentle hold to be sure, but dog teeth all the same, and runs in some sort of random path she creates. No, she never makes if far with a foot, but sometimes something else, and we all dive for the bed, our island in the comedic storm, and we watch with peals of laughter as she runs, the tail tuck a friend calls it, that growly sound still coming from deep within and that loving look in her eyes changed to something akin to insanity. It lasts for about a minute, then she plops down with a grunt and a thud, always a tail wag and it's over.

That's just one piece of daily life with Nala, and oh, there is so much more, so much more. But I should add my theory early on in this blog - you're born with a good dog quota. And we got all of our good dog with my first dog as an adult, Sasha, a gentle, proud yellow lab. She was THE good dog. If they had Olympics for good dogs, she would have won gold. And now we have Nala. And since we used up all of our good dog with Sasha, well... now we have Nala. 

But we love her and she makes our family complete.