Kia is 93 pounds of love and devotion. Her first four weeks here were sometimes hard for her; she was sometimes tense; she even smelled different. I think she never knew when she might be taken away to yet another place. The first time we went for a ride in the car, she was shy about getting into the car and visibly surprised when we returned to the same place we had started from. That night she stuck to me like glue. But now she loves to ride. Kia had been found as a stray, pregnant at that, and all efforts to find her owners failed. The animal shelter eventually sent her to Carolina Great Pyrenees Rescue in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, where she spent several months before being placed in one of their foster homes. She was in her foster home only three weeks, and then she came to me. She had to be confused. But her uncertainty could not hide her beautiful nature and personality.
And something wonderful happened somewhere around the one-month mark. Kia seemed to realize that this is home, that I am hers; her scent changed, and she embraced her routines with newly found gusto. She guards me and this space as her job. Great Pyrenees are working dogs, and Kia wants something to do. She has a beautiful low-pitched, deep voice, and when she barks, she throws her head back as though she were going to howl.
Shadow, one of my cats, gets me up by 7 or 7:30 every morning, and Kia has her breakfast in the kitchen just a few feet from where the two cats, Shadow and Readmore, are having theirs. If you knew Readmore, you'd know what a miracle this is. Kia never bothers them, never tries to get their food, never pulls rank on them. Readmore was terrified of dogs, and when I had tried to bring other dogs into my home, I could not do it because Readmore fled to the master bedroom, hid, and would not come out, not even for food. I ended up taking food and water upstairs to him, but he only ate when he was alone. But he was never afraid of Kia. He accepted her from the very first day, jumping over her, walking past her, sitting in my lap while I scratched Kia's head and ears. He sensed from the very beginning that Kia was no threat to him. People call Great Pyrenees dogs "gentle giants," and it suits them so well. And they snore.
After breakfast Kia and I go for a walk. We live next to a park. Kia always stands patiently on the stoop, on leash of course, while I lock the door, never starting down the steps without me. When I turn to start our short walk to the park, she trots, she prances, her head held high, she's alert and happy. I seem to be the only person in my neighborhood who goes out armed with a plastic bag to scoop poop, but I don't believe in allowing your dog to mess up common spaces that you share with friends and neighbors. I frequently curse under my breath at the general sorriness of some people. But of course, that's just more delight for Kia, more evidence of who else has been there, and she loves to track. Her nose is to the ground for half our walk. The park is often full of geese and that changes our path. We avoid them. She pays them no mind. But they have a fit over us.
We try to go out again around noon most days. Again she trots and prances to the park. She never pulls on the leash. She usually stays close to me. We walk together. Sometimes she wants to play. She lowers the front of her body, showing that she wants to play, then runs away hoping I will chase her. I run with her as best I can.
Our last walk is just before sunset, whenever that is. I feed Kia and the cats their dinner, and then she and I go out for our good night walk. She can make it til sunrise the next morning.
In the house, Kia is mostly wherever I am. If I am on the left end of the sofa, she is lying curled up at my feet on the left. If I am on the right end of the sofa, she moves to lie in front of me on the right. She sleeps on the floor right below my head. (The cats sleep with me.) But sometimes she stretches out in the middle of the living room rug. She looks huge. She is too large for my German Shepherd crate! Kia comes to you for attention. When you pet her or scratch her head or her ears and try to stop, she takes her paw and reaches for your hand, asking for more. But if you turn your hands and say "All gone," as you would to a child, she understands and leaves you alone.
And Kia loves popcorn. Get yourself a bowl of popcorn, and you will have Kia by your side. I tried tossing pieces to her, and she acted as though no one had ever done that for her before. She does not understand that she is supposed to catch them. She does not even try. But she gets them from the floor, eats them, and she enjoys them. She loves to be hugged and lets me hug her all I want. And when I am done, again here comes that paw asking for more. She's perfect. I haven't found anything wrong with her. Oh yes, there was the time that she jumped up and got an empty skillet off the kitchen counter to lick what had been ham. If that's it, I am surely blessed.
Kia was tan, not really white, when she arrived on Christmas Eve and her nails needed clipping, so I scheduled a grooming for between Christmas and New Years. Imagine my joy when my stunning white Great Pyrenees was brought out to me at the end of the day. She was beautiful, so beautiful that I promoted her to Miss Kia. Miss Kia has let me know that she knows that she is mine and I am hers. I could not be happier.
ADDENDUM: It's Thursday morning, February 10, and I have on television news. Michele Bachman came on to say that her goal was to make Barack Obama a one-term president. Miss Kia began to bark at the TV and to growl at Ms. Bachmann. Good dog!
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