38 - Life With Nicky

Life with Nicky

Nicky is my Shetland Sheep dog and my constant companion, but we’ve got to get back to the beginning to really know him. Back to the time when my Alzheimer’s afflicted brother lived with us and I felt he needed a dog.

Marshall’s condition had declined to the point that he didn’t know who I was. He no longer recognized me but accepted me as That Lady. He didn’t read the morning newspaper or watch what was on television. These had occupied him during the day. Now he just sat in his recliner and waited as I watched him sink further and further into the darkness of Alzheimer’s. But he had not lost his love of dogs. So one morning I stood in front of him and with great determination said, ‘I’m going to get a dog for us.” He was startled for a moment and then said “If you get a dog I’ll have nothing to do with it. I’m not going to care about it. I won’t go through the pain of putting another dog to sleep.” Still standing in front of him, I replied “Marshall, you are 76 years old and I am 80. What makes you think we can outlive a Sheltie? I’m going to get our dog.”

We’re Sheltie lovers and I was about to find our fourth Sheltie. I called Sheltie Rescues. None had a dog that needed a home. The last one I spoke with told me about a friend who had a young Sheltie that she might sell. I phoned and discovered that she was a Sheltie breeder who would sell a 9-month-old Sheltie for $119.00. My heart skipped a beat. I could handle that. I drove out to meet her the next morning.

After explaining that she had kept him for best of show, but he failed to qualify, she introduced me to a beautiful, happy, perfect little dog. “Did you bring a kennel?” Stupid me, how could I not realize that I needed some way to take him home. “I’ll be back tomorrow with one” I said and left. Early the next morning I received a phone call. “I’m sorry” she said. “A family who saw Cody before, had first right and they bought him.” Tears came to my eyes; I really wanted that dog.

About two weeks later I received an unexpected call. “Are you still interested in Cody?” the kennel owner asked. “Oh, yes.” I replied. “Well,” she said “The people who bought him brought him back and said it was because he wasn’t housebroken. Who in the world would expect a dog from a kennel to be housebroken?” She didn’t explain that they had brought back the most frightened, traumatized dog I have ever see.

With a kennel in the back seat, my granddaughter and I drove to pick up my dog. She suddenly turned to me said “I don’t like the name they gave him.” “Neither do I” I said, “but I’ve got the right name for him. It’s Nicholas McTavish the Fourth.” I saw the amazement on her face, “Hold it!” I said “He’s from Royal Blood. Many of his ancestors have won Grand Prizes all over the world. Nicky could be listed in every dog-show. He deserves a dignified name.” She shook her head and said “Only my Granny” and so began my life with Nicky.

A few days later I phoned the kennel owner. “This is the most frightened dog I have ever seen. He stays hidden behind the recliner. If I can’t get him to come out within two months, I’ll have to return him.” In one month I fell in love. But a question arose in my mind. What was I to do to help this poor little dog? Then a great opportunity opened. I was able to place Nicky for dog training of assistant dogs. Those two years of training changed my once shy dog to the one that now thinks he rules this house. All is well. He’s my constant companion and my source of comfort. He’s also the smartest dog I’ve ever known. I qualified that the evening I opened the Internet and saw “The Ten Smartest Dogs in the World.” My Sheltie was number 6.

Marshall loved him as much as I did and Nicky was a great companion for him, but Nicky decided himself that he was my dog. At night Marshall would want to sleep with him in his room. Nicky stayed with him for a short time and then began scratching on the door. He would not be satisfied until I opened the door, let him out and watched him be contented as he jumped up on my bed. We still sleep that way every night.

Nicky often makes his own rules. I didn’t teach him not to wake me in the morning. He just waits until I open my eyes. When he’s on medication, I don’t have to call him. Much as he hates it, I have only to shake the pill bottle and wait. He will appear before me, place himself in a sit position, lift his head and silently say “I’m ready” He will always be on the bathmat waiting in front of the shower until I get out and I’m safe. There's more, but I didn’t teach him these things. They are his rules. The things I did teach Nicky only needed to be taught once. The puppy that entered our house started to wet on the floor. I picked him up, took him outside and said a very positive “No.” Just one No for Nicky has never had to be repeated.

He is a joy to take shopping, whether to the grocery or Nordstrom’s. Equally wonderful to take into a restaurant or a movie. How do I accomplish that? After his assist training he wears a coat much like the Seeing Eye companions wear, so he can go wherever I go and he has.

Before my illness Nicky accompanied me everywhere. Now, when the days may be difficult, he will always appear and lay by my side. He is aware when his Mom is not well and is ready to protect her. He also understands everything I say to him and that is truly amazing. It’s not only what I tell him to do but usually tell him what we will do like “let’s go to bed now” and he’s ahead of me waiting in the bedroom. Mom’s got to take a nap means he will spread out on the floor in front of the couch to remain until I get up. These are all his ideas. I know that dogs can understand about 300 words, but Nicky goes far beyond that. I’m pretty certain that Nicky is 70% dog and 30% human (with a slight possibility on the reverse),

Nicky has one problem, he barks too much. We’ve overcome that some, but he can be an annoyance to those who visit. They don’t quite understand, but it’s still a trade-off. This love-expressive, understanding companion has replaced the life I lived before my illness. I live alone but in my aloneness I am not alone. In my times of severe illness I have my protector close to my side waiting until I tell him, “It’s O.K. Nicky, Mom's better now.” Then he will leave to look out of the window. Nicky brings into my existence a completion that I would never have had without him. I guess it’s alright if he barks.