I’ve had a love for Dalmatians for as long as I can remember. My first Dalmatian, Bata, was our family dog, and she was there when I was born. My mum got her when she was 19, and Bata was with us until I was 7, living a good 14 years, which is quite remarkable since Dalmatians typically only live 11 to 13 years. We were all so lucky to have her by our sides for so long!
One of my first memories of Bata is walking her in the park. I was so proud of her, and of course, I couldn’t resist bragging to anyone who’d listen that she was my dog. Even though Bata wasn’t exactly a social butterfly, she was my partner, and I couldn’t have been prouder. She wasn’t always fond of people outside our family, and my grandma would often put a muzzle on her because people would try to pet her without asking (unfortunately, something that still happens a lot, even though we’re supposedly more aware now as a society). But to me, it didn’t matter. I was the one who got to be with her, and I took full advantage of that. I even remember teasing my cousins whenever they came over, using Bata as my little "secret weapon"—they couldn’t play with her, and I loved it. She was mine, and I was proud of it.
But it wasn’t just that she was my dog—Bata was a patient and loving companion. One of my grandma’s favourite memories is of me as a toddler, just starting to walk. Bata would stick close by, watching every step I took. And whenever I’d fall, she would run to my grandma, turn in circles to get her attention, and then come back to me. She never barked or acted out, but instead, she helped me up, and I’d grab onto her to pull myself back to my feet. There was something so comforting about having her there, and I think that’s where our bond really started.
When my parents moved out from my grandparents’ place, Bata stayed with them. Thankfully, they only lived two streets away, so I could see her often. Bata and I had our little routines. When I ate, she wanted to eat, it didn’t matter whether it was watermelon or steak – she loved anything. When I was outside, she was outside. My grandpa used to take her on long bike rides, and I’d watch them in awe. Dalmatians, being working dogs, were originally bred to run after carriages, so she needed plenty of exercise. I remember how badly I wanted to join them on those rides but couldn’t. So, my grandpa made me a little seat between him and the steering so I could tag along. And let me tell you, those bike rides were the best.
I remember laughing so hard during those rides that my tummy would hurt. The wind in my face, the bike shaking from all the giggles—it felt like we were in a racing car, and Bata would be the one coming second. Those moments were magical. But as Bata got older, we couldn’t do those intense rides anymore. Still, there was one day at Parcul Drumul Taberei in Bucharest, a park with a little pond. I was obsessed with animals, and I leaned over the water to look at some baby frogs. And, of course, I fell right in.
Now, here’s the part that I’ll never forget: my grandpa couldn’t swim. That could’ve been really bad. But Bata? She jumped right in after me and did everything she could to herd me back to the shore. My grandpa pulled me out of the water, and there I was, dripping wet and extremely scared, while Bata looked like she’d just won a medal. We walked home like that, me all soaked, my grandpa shirtless because he’d given me his shirt to wear, and Bata, just so proud of herself. That evening, my grandma even cooked her a special dinner. She had truly earned it.
Looking back, I realise how much Bata shaped my life. She wasn’t just a pet—she was family. She was my best friend. The bond we shared is something I’ll carry with me forever, and as I look at Shelly, my new little Dalmatian, I can’t help but smile, excited about all the adventures that will come around with her – me now in my 20s.
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