A while ago when my daughter was studying medicine at Tygerberg Campus in Cape Town my wife and I used to go through on weekends to take her out for a meal. On one occasion the centre we went to hosted an exhibit by the local animal rescue association.
They had some rescued dogs who had given birth to some puppies. The mother was an Africanus and we were told that the father was a saint Bernard (!!!).
When Sinead took the first look at the puppies she fell in love with the cutest litttle ball of black and white fluff. And of course we signed up to provide a home. A couple of weeks later, after being checked out by the organisation, they delivered the pup. At the time we had a jack russel called ‘Sprocket’ and I advocated for a suitably mountain biking or perhaps surfing name. ‘Fin’, ‘Skeg’ (for the old-school touch) or ‘Leash’ for some recurrsion maybe. But I was sidelined and she was named ‘Nahla’.
She grew into a big strong dog much to the chagrin of Sprocket and Mia who used to bully her as a pup. And she developed some quite strange personality traits which lead us to believe that she was autistic.
However she is a wonderful companion in the house and sometimes lies for me to paint her.