Natasha
When I was a kid watching cartoons as often as I could, one of my favorites was the Rocky and Bullwinkle Show. As you may recall, there was an entire ensemble of characters that comprised the Show. Some of the characters had their own schtick, while others were part of the Rocket J. Squirrel and Bullwinkle drama. That drama, narrated like a tongue-in-cheek documentary with an Edward R. Murrow type of voice, seemed often to be about a Russian spy thriller. The antagonists to Rocky and Bullwinkle was a dynamic duo called Boris and Natasha. Boris was a thick-accented, short, little fat guy who only wore a black suit and your standard-issue pork pie black fedora. Americans didn’t care much for and didn’t think much of Russians. They liked to think of them as on the dumb side, so Boris was more than a little dim-witted. But like all dynamic duos in the cartoons, for every big dummy there is a slim sharpie. Boris’ sharpie was taller than Boris and the sharpie was a she. It was Natasha, and for all of Boris’ failings and over-exuberance, Natasha was coldly, clinically smart and dispassionate. For every one of Boris’ hair-brained schemes, Natasha was behind him making it work with enough cynicism to choke a horse.
Natasha also had a Russian accent and while she was most often foiled by Rocky (not so much Bullwinkle), she still had her moments and came off as someone to be reckoned with. I am very fortunate now to have a Natasha in my life. Kim is also lucky to have Natasha in our lives, but the really lucky one is Betty. You see, Natasha is the younger wife of a fella by the name of Andre who was referred to me as a contractor some twenty years ago. That was four homes ago when I bought a place near Gramercy Park. It was a loft that had been made out of an old brewery and it had two hundred year old beams running all through it. It was quite a unique condo and I hired Andre to help me renovate it at the edges. It was not a major renovation, but it was a reasonable test of what he could do. The only thing that weirded me out a little bit was that Andre’s thick and deep Hungarian accent was eerily reminiscent of my dead father, who was also named…Andre. My father was from the Piedmont on Northern Italy where the influences were decidedly Eastern European.
When I moved in 2004 into my condo in the South Sea Seaport, that was a place that needed a lot of renovation and Andre was my contractor of choice. That was a long and involved project that took a serious toll on my patience and, ultimately, on the relationship between me and Andre. After I met and then married Kim, I suggested she get a dog since she had always wanted one since she was a child. Some people don’t realize it, but having a dog is expensive and logistically challenging, especially for a working actress with multiple survival jobs. Now that Kim had lost the wolf at the door, she had the freedom to replace it with a pup, and she did just that. Cecil entered our lives in 2009. While Kim had more free time to care for Cecil, she also still had a career (more cabaret than theater by then) and Cecil was a high anxiety Bichon Frise that simply could not be left alone in the apartment. Kim’s love for Cecil knew no bounds, so she went about finding people to watch him when she had to go out or when we travelled. Eventually, after several dog-sitters, Kim landed on Natasha, since we had met her along the way when Andre was doing his work. So, since 2010 or thereabouts, Natasha has been our official dog-sitter.
Natasha is the child of a Russian mother and a Hungarian father. She speaks many languages including Hungarian and Russian. To an untrained ear, her accent in English (her English is near perfect) sounds Russian. That suits her, in my cartoonish sense of the world, given that her name is Natasha. At one point, when we arranged a big shindig at Hearst Castle for Kim’s 60th birthday, Kim even flew Natasha out to California to care for Cecil during the festivities. When we moved away from New York to live full-time on our California hilltop, I thought we had seen the last of Natasha, but as that infamous Army Sergeant once said, “Not so fast, Abernathy!” Kim had become highly dependent on Natasha to care for Cecil in her absence and it was clear that Cecil was very fond of Natasha. Leaving Cecil behind was always easy with Natasha there to amuse Cecil. So when our travel plans required someone to stay with Cecil, we made special arrangements and used excess air miles to fly Natasha out to watch Cecil. Cecil died in 2020 and at that point Natasha was busy with two new Bichon charges in New York, so once again, I thought we had run our course.
Then there came Betty. Betty is a less anxious dog than Cecil and had grown up in the doggie foster care system, so she is used to be left alone during the day and seems to get by with it fairly well. She sleeps though the ordeal with no problem. But Betty is also a dog with diabetes and who was blind when we got her. We’ve fixed her vision, but she still needs two injections of insulin per day and multiple eye drops. That takes a certain kind of dog custodian to do well. One time, I don’t remember exactly when, Kim asked if it was OK for her to fly Natasha out to free us up to travel without Betty. We had been taking Betty with us and while inconvenient at times, it more or less was working out. I agreed nonetheless and we have now entered another phase of dog management. Now we have decided that it is better for an old dog like Betty not to e forced to deal with the discombobulation of travel, so we think it is easier on her to stay in familiar surroundings so long as Natasha can stay with her. During COVID, that only was needed a few times.
Now that travel restrictions are easing, we have a busier travel dance card and the issue of what to do with Betty comes up regularly. So far in 2022 we have five scheduled Natasha dog-sitting visits. The sitting time totals some 10-12 weeks. Luckily, Natasha seems to like watching Betty and Betty gets along just fine with her. Natasha also loves staying on our hilltop. She very much enjoys the gardens and is forever taking Betty on outings to the beach and the parks in the arena. Natasha is a person who enjoys solitude and reading and that is exactly what someone needs to like if they are tasked with watching Betty.
I have never been one who felt that U.S./Russian relations would ever benefit from increased closeness, but with the events unfolding every day in Ukraine, I will admit that I find the idea of having a native Russian speaker in the house, someone with a half-sister living in Moscow, to be a very useful perspective to see if our sense of what is happening with madman Putin is being fairly considered. Natasha can rightly be called a member of our family at this point and that’s just the way Betty likes it.