Today I feel like a class heel. Because of my motor mouth, of course. I'm such a damn idiot. What was I thinking?

You see, I met an acquaintance while I was hurrying through centrum on my way to the library. We dog owners in Nynäshamn tend to chat when our dogs meet and while several of them don't recognise me without my little white fluffy accessory trotting next to me, this person is one of those who does know me and we always say hello when we meet.

So far, so good. Now this man has the most well behaved, gorgeous akita named Nina. As that is also my daughter's name, I sort of have a soft spot for this lovely animal. He and Nina are inseparable and I can't recall a time that I've ever seen him without his faithful companion. But today he was alone. I think this threw me a bit and like a complete unthinking moron I blurted out "What? No Nina today?" As I was saying this, I immediately thought something was wrong and tried to prevent the words coming out, but it was too late. The poor man broke down and sobbed his heart out. Nina had passed away a couple of days ago, aged 9 years.




As you can see, she was a beautiful dog and the most loyal, loving companion that anyone could wish for. She was very independent and quite stubborn as well when she wanted her own way and I think everyone in town knew this dog well as we saw her everyday, trotting several paces in front of her owner. She needed no leash (unlike a totally undisciplined little toy poodle I could mention!), she never barked or even cast her eyes sideways and she loped through town with a detached and slightly haughty air.

I met them for the first time nearly six years ago on the train coming home from Stockholm one frigid winter's night. The train was really late (no surprise there!) and when the conductor came around, he told this man that his time had expired and he needed to get a new ticket. He told the conductor that he had no money on him and instead of showing a touch of compassion or just letting it slide as after all it WAS the train company's fault a they were so late, the conductor said he'd have to leave the train. Bloody unbelievable! He was prepared to throw this man and his dog out into the -10C snow, many, many miles from home knowing he had no money.

My Swedish was not so hot back then, so I looked around to see if anyone was going to tell this jumped up little gestapo to leave the guy alone, but everyone pretended to be engrossed in reading their newspaper. Cowards. The conductor was standing by the open door of the train saying that we had to wait there until he got off and if he refused they would call the police.

That did it for me. I got up, fished out the damn $3.50 fare out of my purse and thrust kit at the conductor saying "Here, I'll pay for his ticket". The conductor was taken aback, but immediately rallied and refused the money saying that I shouldn't waste it on "people like them". People like who? I looked closer at the man and realised he was one of the people who regularly sat in the park getting drunk. Okay, so he was an alcoholic. Well, so what? It didn't change the fact that it was polar bear weather and if the train had not been late he would have a valid ticket. I so wished that my Swedish was better so I could have said all of that. Though maybe it was just as well, or I may have told the conductor what I really thought of him. And then I'm pretty sure he would have called the cops.

So I gave the 20kr note to the man with the dog and said, "Okay, you can pay yourself" and sat down. The conductor had to accept the money, glaring at me and we continued home.

A couple of days later as I was down near the harbour I heard someone calling out "Excuse me" and I turned to see the man and his dog coming across to me. He dug in his pocket and held out a 20kr note, thanking me for helping him. I tried to refuse the money, but he insisted and I could see that it was important to him that I accept it, so I did. He introduced me to Nina and from that day onwards we spoke several times a week when we met around town. He is quite an intelligent and interesting man and both Lars-Göran and I have had several long conversations with him, while Nina waited patiently next to him.

And now she is gone.




Nina you will be missed by all of us who knew you. Your paw prints have been left on our hearts.