The Shepherd Who Gathered Our Herd

Bekki is our girl, a two-and-a-half-year-old Pembroke Welsh Corgi. Formally, she joined the family as a gift for Alexander Alexanderovich Nevsky — or simply Sanka, Alexander Jr.

But we soon found out we had not given her only to him. It looks like we gave her to our whole family.

A Dog Instead of PlayStation

Bekki's story began before we saw her for the first time.

Sanka was preparing for a Brazilian jiu-jitsu competition and took first place. We asked what gift he wanted for the win. He could have chosen a console, games, or anything else from the usual children's list.

But he wanted only a dog.

He turned down the Sony PlayStation completely calmly. Before the competition, he kept drawing dogs, talking about dogs, and even filling his house in Minecraft with them.

At some point it became clear: this was not a whim for a couple of days. The dog already existed in his world — for now only drawn, pixelated, and imaginary.

All we had to do was find a real one.

The Eighth in the Litter

We chose a corgi. Bekki is a pedigree dog with a passport and a family tree. She was the eighth in the litter and turned out to be the smallest of all the puppies. Perhaps that is why, from the very beginning, two completely different beings lived inside her.

The first was an important British herding dog with huge ears and a serious gaze.

The second was a small fluffy loaf, capable at any moment of melting onto the floor and refusing to take part in what was happening.

We never planned to turn Bekki into a show champion or turn her life into endless obedience school. Of course, we could have trained her more. But from the start she had a different, far more important job.

She was meant to become a friend.

A Dog for the Move

Bekki arrived during a major period of change in our lives. We moved to another country. For adults that means paperwork, work, apartments, schools, bills, and trying to rebuild a familiar routine. For children it works differently: the familiar world disappears, friends stay far away, and suddenly there is too much new around them.

We thought a dog would help Sanka get through that transition a little more easily. But Bekki became support not only for him. She appeared at the same time for Konstantin and Daria too.

The children had a friend who did not need an explanation for why today felt sad, scary, or simply unfamiliar. A friend who was always nearby, happy when they came home, and willing to join almost any game.

That, I suppose, is what people call a therapeutic effect. Not some complicated method, just a warm dog nearby while the whole family learns to live in a new place.

The Nevskys' Head Shepherd

We call Bekki the Shepherd. Corgis were bred to herd livestock, and Bekki, it seems, remembers her historical purpose perfectly. Only instead of cows she got the Nevsky family.

Wherever we are, she is there too. Someone goes to the kitchen — Bekki is already in the kitchen. The children sit down to watch a film — Bekki lies down with them. I leave the room — a few seconds later I hear short corgi steps behind me.

Like a true herding dog, she regularly gets underfoot, controls the movements of every family member, and, judging by her expression, is not too pleased with the quality of herd management.

Even when Bekki is simply lying on the sofa, it feels as if she is still keeping watch.

From a Gift for Our Son to the Family's Centre of Gravity

Formally, Bekki was a gift for Sanka. But a dog cannot belong to one person. She gradually grows into the whole family: into photographs, morning routes, children's games, furniture, fur on clothes, and the habit of checking where she is before closing a door.

Each of us has built a different relationship with her. For the children she is a playmate and a living creature they can hug. For me she is the dog who regularly tries to take over the entire frame during a joint selfie.

She is smart, kind, funny, and remarkably patient. Sometimes stubborn. Sometimes demonstratively deaf. Sometimes able to look as if she is the one paying the rent, buying the food, and making all the key family decisions.

Perhaps, in some sense, that is exactly how it is.

Bekki Joined Project 80

Now Bekki has one more job. I started Project 80 — my path to 80 kilograms, normal physical shape, and a more organised life. And Bekki unexpectedly became a full participant in the project.

Every day at six in the morning we go out for a walk and cover about two and a half to three kilometres.

That is not yet an athletic feat or marathon training. But it is the right start to the day: a cool morning, empty streets, movement, and a dog who is completely uninterested in my excuses.

She needs to walk. So I do too.

So the dog we once bought to help the children adapt is now helping me adapt — to a healthier rhythm, discipline, and daily movement.

A Dog That Turned Out to Be More Than a Gift

When Sanka asked for a dog instead of a PlayStation, he could not, of course, have known exactly what would appear in our family. He simply wanted a real friend.

And Bekki appeared — a small eighth girl from the litter, who grew up with our children, helped them through the move, took the whole family herd under control, and now walks me out every morning.

It seems Sanka was right to turn down the console back then. Because games end one day. The Shepherd is still here.