We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
There was a family in the neighborhood whose children had all grown and gone, leaving the family Newfie, Maggie, with no one to play with. She adopted every single one of us as her own. She could carry 2 kids on her back. She knew which side she was on in nerf football games and would "tackle" someone by grabbing hold of their clothing and just stopping, none of us were strong enough to drag her or break her grip.
She played with us all at the bus stop in the morning, she was waiting there at 3 when we got home. She loved snow and would happily pull sleds. Her favorite was to lie down in the snow and allow all of us to pile snow on her until she was covered, emerging with a great shake and barks of joy when we all called "where's Maggie".
We never figured out who hit her, or where, but she managed to drag herself to the bus stop and held on long enough to lick our hands while we cried and asked whats wrong, get up Maggie. 2nd grade is way to early to learn that being good is no protection at all.
That was over 30 years ago and I would still happily strangle the SOB, slowly, if given the chance.
Just remember that having a dog is an earth-crime right up there with driving an SUV or using electric lights.
Newfies are lovely dogs. Any animal is a commitment but I'm sure big dogs are even more so. We have a 30-lb fox terrier-ish dog, very friendly but also very dependent.
I love all dogs, big or otherwise, that love and care for humans. But, as a tottery old lady, I'm forced to be cautious around such big darlings as a Newfoundland, which are willing to knock you down in order to lick you. Being knocked over by a big, rambunctious dog, however well-intentioned, can have serious consequences for us seniors.
Which is one reason I have a cantankerous cat instead.
In my bachelor days, I had a mother-and-daughter pair of cats. Much easier to manage than dogs when out of the house for up to 14 hours on a long shift. They both hated to be picked up but they were otherwise very sweet animals.
Marianne, my aunt lived in Arvada, Colorado for the better part of her, and for her last few years ( she lived to be 96 ) had the good fortune to have been befriended by a magnificent four-legged friend who visited her each day in her room. "Handsome" made the rounds each day throughout the nursing home to check on and visit each of the residents who lived there. I believe that Handsome not only lengthened her life, but made her life much better.
I drove by a church several months ago that had this posted on its signpost: " I pray that I can be the man my dog believes me to be."
I've owned three dogs as an adult,two Chessies and now a choc.lab. I have loved them all and each has given his personal gift to my family with distinct individual personalities.
My favorite was my last Chessie,Anchor. He pulled me thru some really tough times and lead me into a host of great times. He was a well trained water-fowler. I was a well trained by him to take him all over so he could sit in the duck boat and smile in a blind. We had the pleasure of his company for 16 1/2 years. He now rests comfortably next to my shooting range here at the farm.
Thanks for evoking some great memories with your blog
The Newfoundland dog is quite a breed and are known, amongst other things, as natural water rescue dogs. My Mom used to tell stories of when they swam in the Atlantic Ocean as kids (1928) that the fun was to swim out and the family dog would swim out and "rescue" them by latching onto their swim suits and bringing them back to shore.
I can still see the smile, on her face, as she told these stories to my brothers and sisters.
Picked up a little mixed breed (part terrier and part something long haired). He refused, REFUSED to let me out of his sight. I would swim out into the Pacific and he would come alongside. He was fine until he felt that mean under swell then he would grab my arm and pull until I turned around. Learned to follow me to work. Mom would leave him out of the house after I was out of sight, he would run alongside on the next street parallel to mine.Then he would circle around and come in the back door of the cafe where I was working! I taught him to cross on the green light, which he did so well as long as he could see me looking. The whole town talked about it. Got hit in the crosswalk by some guy who ran the light. Have had some great ones since then--but love those terrier types, they are the attorneys of the canine world--always negotiating, and always trying to get you to do something not quite right! ;-)
I talk to him when I'm lonesome like; and I'm sure he understands. When he looks at me so attentively, and gently licks my hands; then he rubs his nose on my tailored clothes, but I never say naught thereat. For the good Lord knows I can buy more clothes, but never a friend like that. >>>>W. Dayton Wedgefarth
We have to arrange to evacuate at least once a year, on average, as a hurricane approaches (though it's often called off at the last minute when the storm turns). We've found that there are always a handful of inland rural motels out there that will accept dogs, even multiple dogs, even big ones. We've had the best success with motels that cater to hunters, because they expect dogs to be big. Lots of motels claim to accept dogs, but you'll find that what they mean is "reasonably small dogs," i.e., 15 lbs or less. I call that a cat.