A sad anniversary comes to pass today. One year ago, I had to put my trusty mutt Nikita, aka The Roo Dawg, down.
I got Nikita in the fall of 1992 while serving as a Military Police Officer in the Army. She had been abandoned in a military housing unit on Oakland Army Base when the soldier she belonged to got kicked out of the service. A neighbor called the MPs to report that some pets had been left behind. We responded and found a puppy, a turned over water dish, and a half eaten bag of Puppy Chow in an otherwise empty house. There was supposed to be a cat too but we surmised that it had escaped out an open window.
I was due to get out of the service in a little over a month but was still living in the barracks where the standing order was "No Pets Allowed!". Luckily, my First Sergeant had a heart of gold and actually let me keep Roo in my room. I about died when she pee'd on the carpet in front of him. To his credit he didn't say a word and I dashed off to find towels and cleaner.
I took Roo to work with me every night. When I was on patrol, I drove a van so Roo could sleep in a clothes basket stuffed with towels in the cargo area. In those days, she was smaller than a cat. Maybe thats why her old owner found it so easy to leave her behind. He couldn't have had her all that long. Her ears were still floppy and she couldn't even walk up stairs.
When I worked as the Desk Sergeant at the MP Station, Roo would sleep on a towel in the bottom of the shotgun rack. One day, she had gotten underfoot and I didn't realize it. I accidently stepped on her paw while I was answering the phone. "Oakland Army Base Military Pol...YIPE!...Shit!" *CLICK* Dial tone. Oops. I hope it was nothing important.
When I was doing walking checks of the housing area, Roo jokingly became my "K-9" unit. People would crack up seeing me patrolling around with a wobbly little puppy. The kids loved to pester us. One day, a soldier recognized Roo and said he had her brother. Up to this point, I had no idea what her breed might be. Several folks suggested she was an Akita due to the curly tail, muzzle, and markings. Hence the name "Nikita". I was surprised to learn that she her daddy was a Pit Bull and mom was a German Shepard /Chow.
Even with all that "Crazy Dog" breeding, Roo turned out to be extremely smart and decent tempered. I used to tell people that she had the vocabulary of a three year old. She quickly picked up an impressive list of commands and was very expressive. You always knew when Roo wanted something. She would make odd grumbling growling noises like she was trying to talk and stare intently at you. The most impressive trick I taught her was "Treat". This meant I could put a treat on the tip of her nose and she'd wait for the "OK" before flipping it up in the air and catching it in her mouth. It always impressed the neighbors when we had our block parties. Another command was "Bathtime". She'd trot into the bathroom and wait for me. Then I'd simply say "Get in the tub" and she'd hop right in. No fuss. No muss.
Over the course of twelve years, Roo was my constant companion through thick and thin. I took her everywhere with me. Hiking, camping, the beach, road trips to visit friends in LA. She loved riding in my truck. In fact, I could just put her in there and not go anywhere and she would be so happy. It would always crack me up to be mowing the lawn and have Roo bouncing around the truck bed, tail wagging like crazy. Simple pleasures.
Every time I go hiking, I think of her and miss her tagging along. I actually still find myself listening for her out of habit. She would always wander off the trail a bit and I'd have to call her back when she strayed too far and I couldn't hear her romping about in the brush. I wish I could call her back now.
Rest in peace Roo. I miss you.
