Back in 2009, we decided to get a Rottweiler, after my 2nd Pomeranian passed away of old age. She was 14. She survived one cancer, but another claimed her.
We had read all the bad press about them. Virtually everyone we spoke to about our decision tried to talk us out of getting a Rottie. But we got one anyway. He was the perfect puppy. He had the sweetest face, and at 7 weeks old, he weighed 4kg. For me, that was a delightful lot of puppy! He was black velvet and a bundle of bad attitude.
My mother suggested he be named Kaiser. Such a powerful name, this is probably the only breed that can do justice to it. In spite of all her apprehensions, my mother just melted when she first saw him. She can rarely resist something that is black in colour; but give her a black puppy, and she's sold.
Kaiser was loved, treasured and spoiled from the day he was born. His parents (Tyson and Kylie) belonged to a well-to-do family that cried, hugged and kissed him when we took him away. I come from a family that dotes on dogs, and it was easy to spoil this puppy.
We trained him to be friendly with all sorts of people. We took him on long walks. We loaded him in our car, or at the back of our pick-up and took him on trips out of town. Kaiser has been to my office, where my colleagues have smothered him in love and treats.
And then came the baby. Kaiser was told that he was going to be a nanny. He didn't make a very effective nanny...often giving me this "whyyyyyy did you do this to us?" expression when the baby cried late in the night. But he was the most incredible protector. The 45kg lug who had to be told that there is a stray cat in the premises and to puh-lease chase it away was swift when a bird landed on the cot. He caught and slaughtered it.
On another occassion when my daughter was playing in the yard, a big fat Monitor Lizard had ventured in to the garden only to be chased away by Kaiser. My husband had walked out during the commotion only to find Kaiser furiously barking at the Monitor who was clinging to a pillar on our fence, just out of Kaiser's reach.
Kaiser has made me proud on multiple occassions. At a gathering of my extended family, one of my little nephews would poke him on the thigh....and when Kaiser turned to look, the little boy would squeal and run away. Kaiser went back to snoozing only to find himself being poked again. His father was worried, and asked his son not to harass Kaiser. I kept an eye on him for a while. The little boy paid no heed, and Kaiser did no more than look when he was poked.
Kaiser has made us laugh many, many times. He ran off with an umbrella in his jaw once. And carrying it horizontally, he tried to gallop in through the front door. Needless to say, he couldn't come in.
After a particularly long luxurious bath, he was so comfortable that when called for breakfast, he just collapsed mid-walk and went right back to sleep.
My daughter was just a few weeks old when one my favourite aunts visited us at home. She held the baby for a long time, the entire duration of which Kaiser lay quietly at her feet. He dosed off and began to snore. I'm used to this, so it barely even occurred to me that he was snoring. But after a few minutes, my aunt asks me "Do you have a saw mill near here?". I replied "No".
Aunt : "Then who's sawing wood?"
Me : "That's Kaiser snoring"
Aunt : "Don't be silly"
The sawing of wood stopped at the exact moment that Kaiser was shaken awake.
Everyone worried about Kaiser being jealous of the baby. Au contraire. This boy was jealous of my mother's plants! On one occassion he ran off with a potted plant (yes, the pot went too). One too many times, he would uproot her plants, shake it clean of all the soil on it's roots and hand them to her. One day at work I get a call from her.
Mom :"Do you know what your puppy did?"
Me : "What did he do?"
Mom : "He picked the flowers in my garden and laid them at my feet!"
Me : "So you got flowers? Isn't that a nice gesture?"
Mom : "NO! I want my flowers alive on the trees! Not dying at my feet!"
In no time at all, our little Kaiser had grown in to a handsome 45kg stud. He loved his food. He loved other people's food too. He turned his nose up at fancy dog treats. He thrived on red rice and curried meat and veg. His vet (and my friend) took pride in the fact that he loved buffalo curd. He had the most voracious appetite, and was happy to consume any number of square meals that were given to him each day.
A rather frequent call I got while at work went as follows;
Mom : "Do you know what your puppy did?"
Me : "What did he do?"
Mom : "He stole all his chicken!"
Me : "If it's his, how can that be called stealing? Didn't he just take what was his?"
Mom : "I made all that chicken for his lunch AND dinner. Now what am I supposed to give him to eat for lunch?"
Me : "Fish?"
**Line goes dead**
There is too much to write about Kaiser. Maybe I'll compose a series about the antics of Kaiser?
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