Ratta-tat-tat-a-ratta-ta-rat-a.

They came into this world like the strafing of machine gun fire (or at least it seemed so at the time). One puppy after another thudding into existence. She’d been pregnant for a long time and we knew it was liable to be a large litter, but this? This! By the end there were fourteen of them. Four-teen. And the only one who seemed both unsurprised and unperturbed by this was their mother.

It would be wrong to describe Kila’s reaction to this drama as ‘indifferent’ – for her devotion was indubitable – but there was a certain stoicism about it. The cool pragmatism of a veteran. We knew that this was far from her first rodeo and we knew that she knew what was required of her. No faff or drama, let’s get to work, she seemed to think. And work she did.

She raised eleven of them (albeit one was hand-reared so she can only claim partial credit) which remains a mightily impressive haul. They take after their mother in their openness and confidence, if not in colouration, and continue to grow and thrive as I write this, but now it’s time for Kila to come to the fore, not simply as the mother of others but as the main character – for she is truly spectacular on her own merits.

There’s an irony in the fact that a dog who brought with her such a commotion is herself anything but. Kila is the most laid-back, the calmest, and the least-bothered-by-anything dog I’ve ever met. Horizontality is her modus. Lounging is her raison d’etre. Her interest is fleetingly piqued only by food and by fuss, for there is not a single part of her that she doesn’t like being scratched or pinched or rubbed or nuzzled. All of it is equally valued and appreciated but she shows her appreciation not with an explosion of excitement but with a polite savouring, like listening to a pleasant piece of classical music; a half-smile perched on her face and her whole person placed opportunely within a hand’s reach of you.

Nothing fazes her unreasonably. Nothing concerns her unduly. Nothing much appears to cause her anxiety or stress. The world is not so much a thresher into which we are thrust than it is, in her eyes, a great glassy pool into which we might softly lower ourselves. Sometimes I can get her to a state of silliness sufficient to see her circle and sprint, albeit briefly, and a toy might get nudged, but life is taken otherwise slowly by her. Kila is a remarkable individual without equal and, certainly, without better.

Written by Richard Grainger | Animal Care Assistant