She lived with him in Newtown for five years. Although she wasn't really trained, she did learn 'kill him', which meant attacking Digger (my old dog) and play fighting.
Because the neighbourhood cats liked to parade around the top of the backyard fence, taunting Sasha, she was taught 'Where's the pussycat?', which was her cue to run around in circles, looking up and barking. She still did this long after leaving Newtown.
Sasha didn't last in the city and she went to live with mum on her property in Bowral. Digger joined her in 2003. They became fast friends, with Digger religiously checking under her tail every day to see if she was in season (she was desexed).
Sasha wasn't convinced she was a dog - she always identified much more closely with humans. Digger was really the only dog she bonded with.
Sasha was never satisfied with just a stick. She collected the logs from mum's wood pile and brought them to the back door to chew on. If you threw her a ball or a stick, she'd come back to you, but dance a short distance away from you, refusing to give up her prize.
The thing I most loved about Sasha was that she talked to you. It drove my mum crazy that I talked back, which just encouraged her to talk louder. She also barked at vehicles, just long enough to ensure they started. This included cars, tractors, mowers, and vacuum cleaners. She got terribly excited when we played pool, barking and running circles around the house whenever she heard the clinking of balls.
In the end, mum couldn't quite work out when Sasha was going to go. She was completely deaf, so never came when she was called, which caused a few scares. Mum was so convinced that Sasha was on her last legs in the last few weeks that she dug a hole ready for her burial. Maybe that was what finished her off - she realised that everyone else had given up on her, Digger was recently gone, so she was on her own for the first time since 2003, and she thought, well, it was time to go.
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