Soon after we got Kika, we found ourselves sitting on the kitchen floor, exhausted, with the puppy-from-hell finally asleep.  We were too young & stupid to take her back to the shelter.

Soon she was running on the kitchen counters,  on top of the fridge, and vaulting off the dining table.  Kika was enrolled in a training class at 6 months, taught by military working dog handlers, with great hope! Every week Stir would come home with bloody arms, and torn clothing.

Eventually, via a civilian dog-training club, we  were introduced to a pinch collar and got her under control (age 4!). She (we!) had failed two classes before passing one.   She lived with us for 16 years.  Kika was one tough nugget all right.

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