But this time the swimming pool was filled with the little bodies she likes to distance herself from. Nikita has always been nervous of my step-nieces and nephews, preferring to be out of reach under coffee tables and beds from little jam hands. Instead of standing on the steps, Nikita frantically paced back and forth to the water's edge. It's summer. It's hot for a dog with two fur coats originating from Russian tundra. She hesitated as tiny screaming, splashing bodies wearing water wings pushed her out of the way from the pool steps.
Defeated she walked back towards Boyfriend and me in an effort to beg for food. I rested my hand on her back and recoiled. Her fur was scorching. "Poor thing," I murmured. "We'll hose you off to keep you cool." The dog wandered off for what I assumed was shade and cool spot of earth.
"What's she doing?" pointed Boyfriend.I turned around. Barred from the swimming pool, Nikita decided to take refuge in my step-mother's backyard fountain. She climbed inside and stood in the water, content, while watching us.
"Noooo!" I screamed and ran to the fountain while clapping and making loud noises to shoo her out of it. The fountain has bleach in the water, used to keep algae from growing. Having given up the swimming pool, Nikita wasn't going to give up the fountain too; she didn't budge while I flapped around her.
"It's okay," my dad called over. "There's probably not enough bleach in the water to harm her."
I eyed the dog as I returned to my table. She circled around the fountain bottom, soaked a few more moments, and jumped out.
***
I sat on the couch and scratched Nikita last night. Damned if her whites aren't a little whiter.
