Katia is a bitch.

No, seriously. She’s a bitch. And a dead one. She’s a Rottweiler my uncle had when I was little. Of course, she’s dead by now. I haven’t seen her since elementary school. Seriously, I miss her.

Actually, I was brought to thinking of her while reading Anna Karenina. There’s a girl in a story called Kitty, and in the second part I found out Katia’s her real name. So, yeah. This is actually me reminiscing about a bitch.

She’s nowhere near a dream pet for most people. She doesn’t recognize people like a dog/bitch should. I mean, it’s normal if dogs bark when a guest appears in front of your house, right? But even when my parents are inside she keeps barking from time to time, as if they’ve suddenly appeared inside and need announcing or something.

Rotties are more of a one man’s pet. They tend to attach themselves to one person they like best. Most probably the one who takes care of them or who spends time with them the most.

In spite of not being both, I was her favorite.

One time I walked her with my uncle. Our path crossed with a cat’s. Of course Katia wanted to chase the feline, and being the strong bitch that she is, made my uncle sweat trying to hold her back. I was five at the time, and I squatted next to her, patting her on the head. She calmed down in a few seconds.

Another time, when she had her litter of pups, I actually managed to pick one up without her even getting up. The litter weren’t even washed yet. They still had slime on them. Katia showed her canines, but I just stayed there. The whole family was shocked, since she was really protective of her pups.

I miss Katia, really. Maybe because I’m her favorite person. Maybe because she was the one I played with most from all the dogs my uncles had, aside Cipluk (a golden another uncle of mine had). Maybe because I’m one of the few people she recognizes, and I feel special because of that. Maybe it’s because I love dogs so much, and I loved them even back then. I have fur allergies (one of the few but serious reasons for me not owning one) and spending time with her, just sitting together on the floor, me watching TV and she just lazily sleeping beside me.

For whatever reason, I just love her.

Oh, I’d like to just share this with any random reader. When I was in junior high, I had to go to a classmate’s house to work on a task. She had loud music that could be heard a few feet from her fence. Since I’d been outside for five minutes, shouted and texted and called to no avail, the fence was unlocked, plus it was starting to rain, I just stepped inside.

I didn’t realise there was a cage with a Rottweiler in it. And the cage was left open. He saw me and wanted to go towards me, but stopped at the edge of the cage. It was like he’s confused of what to do.

Suddenly my classmate appeared, shocked to find me there safe and alive. She said her dog’s bitten a few people already, so I was stunned to know her dog didn’t even go near me. He didn’t even bark at me. Just one short growl, as if he was acknowledging my presence.

I do believe the love animals give you goes with you wherever you go. While I’m no pet handler, and still get nervous from time to time when dealing with animals known to be aggressive, I get a positive feedback from them in general.

I guess, in a way, Katia taught me about love. The kind of love that transcends to others. I mean, animals have instincts about how people might treat them. I’m glad to know most dogs I’ve encountered don’t find me a threat. Maybe it’s because I’ve learnt how to just keep loving them.

And it’s all thanks to a Rottweiler who loved me for loving her.