(6 March 1989 - 15 April 2006)
In 1989 we moved to Homestead, Florida where Nikki became quite a handful.
A now 1 year old bored husky is not fun to be around, and after she peeled the wall-to-wall carpeting back in our rented condo, we decided that the only thing we could do was get her a playmate. Boy, was that a mistake! From then on, the dynamic due proceeded to cause chaos and destruction two fold in our lives, and we loved it.
Nikki was very pleased to have a playmate, and in the 2 bedroom condo, they would chase each other around and around for hours, Nikki always in the lead, she would jump into the bathtub to hide and rest while Nova continued to run in circles, thinking she was always just ahead of him. When she was good and rested, she would jump out of the tub and attack him.
Shortly after he arrived, we moved onto the base and there the two of them would run throughout the tiled house, slipping and sliding, riccocheting off the furniture.
At 1 year of age, Nova was diagnosed with congenital cataracts, a disease passed down from his parents (he is a puppymill puppy) and slowly began losing his eyesight. Nikki would guide him along on our walks, except for one incident when I wasn't paying attention and he ran head first into a fire hydrant. We learned not to move the furniture either.
As of 2005, Nova is now 16. He misses Nikki dearly, and continued to search for her for months after she passed away in 2000. His constant companion, and his eyes, she was everything to him. The addition of Meeshka, to keep him company, was not well received at first. He snapped and grumbled at her when she tried to play, until someone suggested that we put a bell on her collar. That did the trick and before we knew it, they were chasing each other down the hall playing. He just didn't like being ambushed without warning.
Soon, Sam and Loki joined the family. Nova is not at all pleased with Sammy, and takes every opportunity to grumble and complain about him. Loki, who typically runs at whoever is farthest in the yard and body slams them, respects that Nova is old, and veers off at the last minute.
He's old, he's creaky, he's incontinent, but he still manages a play bow with the young pups, and nudges us on the arm with his cold wet nose when he wants attention from us.
He's our yam-yam, chicken-boo, poo bunny, Nova dog.
On 15 April 2006, our sweet little pup lost his battle with cancer, and was helped across the Rainbow Bridge in our arms.
Good bye my sweet little yam-yam.