Princess came to us when she was a puppy – a ball of the cutest, honey-coloured fluff you will ever see. My mother’s then-boyfriend had mysteriously acquired her from somewhere, and brought her to our house in a cardboard box made for bananas. I remember her eyes peering nervously out of the large grip holes. I remember her timidly creeping out of the box, terrified of her new and foreign surroundings.
She was named by my younger brother, who was then a huge fan of Star Wars. The ball of fluff was promptly dubbed ‘Princess’ after Princess Leia Organa. She was half Pomeranian we were told – but the other half was unknown. We didn’t care – we were transfixed by the beautiful little thing looking up at us, unsure and afraid. After only a few minutes of getting acquainted, she excitedly ran at full speed around our house, with my brother and sister chasing after her. Having owned two Pomeranians prior to Princess, we knew what hyperactive craziness we were in for.
Fast forward ten years, and she’s killing a feral cat in front of my eyes. She’s making a deep growling sound, menacing and malicious. I stare, bleary-eyed from sleep. The cat spits back, jabbing its dirty paws out at her, trying to attack her in any way it can. I try to shout at her to stop, but they both ignore me, hell bent on killing each other. I keep my distance, as one or both may attack me.
Eventually, Princess manages to bite the cat’s mid-section, but there’s no blood. Instead she seems to squash the cat’s internal organs with her teeth, flinging the cat from side to side all the while. I watch, flabbergasted, as the cat quietens and slowly stops moving. The cat smells of the streets – of cigarette butts, dirt and grime, made more potent by the heat of the day. Princess lets the cat go, and paces up and down our backyard. She smells just as bad as the cat and I worry that she’s picked up some nasty disease from the feral thing. I give her a bath later on, and try not to vomit.
Nowadays, Princess has been re-dubbed the ‘Royal Dog’, because she spends her days lounging in the sun, chewing on dog biscuits and eating Colby cheese. Miraculously, she isn’t overweight. If she were, I think ‘Fatso’ would be appropriate :)