The day after Dnitra became part of my family,
I moved to Utah. It had never occurred to me that it would be the most ideal
place for a Siberian Husky to live, but when winter came, my four-month-old
puppy came to life. I woke up one morning to her yipping (Siberian Huskies don’t
actually bark, they yip or howl, especially at the full moon.
I bought a toboggan and a harness. She
was so proud of that harness and her ability to pull the toboggan. In fact she
was furious a couple of years later when I hitched one of her pups to the
toboggan with her (Dnitra’s) harness. I never made that mistake again.
One time Ms. Dnitra got picked up by the
dog catchers and we had to go pick her up at the pound (did I mention that she
was a master escape artist who could out-escape Houdini?). While there, a
mother cat and her tiny kittens was brought in. We offered to adopt the
kittens, but they said we couldn’t take them home that day.
They called us a few days later and
Ellen and I went to pick them up. They were so small and we nursed them, until
Dnitra offered to do the job for us. We went into the living room one afternoon
and Dnitra had pulled the kittens out of their box and was laying on the couch
with the four kittens busily drinking the milk that Dnitra had somehow managed
to produce (Don’t ask me; I have absolutely no idea.)
Our
big white cat, Snowman, was lying on the back of the couch. The photo I took
needed no caption, but I put one anyway: Snowman: “They’re not mine.”
Dnitra: “They’re mine, they’re MINE!”
I could write an entire book on Dnitra
and her antics, but I’ll have to be satisfied with this last example of her
escapes, warm heart (like adopting four motherless kittens) and her hilarity. When
she escaped, which was pretty often and done with a BIG GRIN, there were only
two ways to catch her, because she could run like the wind and did so happily
and often.
The first way to catch her was pretty forthright:
my new roommate Jill had to drive down the street with the back door open. As
soon as Dnitra saw that, she would take a flying leap and land on the back seat
of the car. That was the one I preferred. You’ll see why.
The other way was embarrassing and
anyone who knew could tell you that I was shy. But I had to use (at times) my
wits. I would walk to the end of the street, lie down on the grass and pretend
to cry very loudly. Dnitra would run up to me and then cautiously crawl close
to me.
When she was close to me, she’d lick my
face and the wrestling match would ensue. I’m pretty sure she enjoyed too much until
I put on the leash and we’d walk home. She was such a character.
I hope you enjoyed this story as much as
I did. I loved that girl and she was so funny. Thanks for letting me share her
with you for this short time. The Siberian in the photo above looks a lot like
her, except she had warm brown eyes instead of the cool blue.
Copyright
© 5 April 6, 2021 Mary E. Purpari. All Rights Reserved.
