The Big Dog Experience

 

It all started with Humphrey.  While my three daughters and I were doing some early Christmas shopping seven years ago, we ran into a  huge bear of a dog, a Newfoundland (Newfie, for short) and his owner in the entrance area of a local department store.  They were manning a Salvation Army bucket there.  As I leaned over to plunk my dollar into the bucket, Humphrey nuzzled up against my left thigh.  I looked into the friendly big brown eyes of this gentle 150 lb. beast and instantly fell in love, patting his 5 inches of black fur, to which he responded once again with his "leggy love hug."  I suppose this kind of hug is the best one can do if one is a big hulk of canine beauty set on four short legs.  When his owner told me about the mind-mannered and gentle nature of this breed, I was captivated.  The following year I bought my own Newfie puppy, naming him Sam. 

It's a different dog experience, living with a Newfie.  For one, Sammy didn't last long as a lapdog.  His favorite venue is the floor, though he is not fussy where except that it is has to be near Mom (that's me), when she is home.  Clumps of black hair began accumulating in my home on the living room and kitchen floor as well as clinging to the furniture, and in the back seat of my car, which he has taken over.  He parks there when we go to the dog park  or just for regular outings, which he loves.  Stray hairs started appearing regularly on my pants, in the living room chairs, and on the hot pads and kitchen drying towels hanging on hooks near the stove and sink.  I've found occasional samples while sitting in the waiting room of the doctor's office and in church on Sunday mornings, while shopping in the grocery store, and you name it.  I think you get the idea... .

 

He is very lovable.  Of course.   That's the charm of a Newfie.  But he is also kind of dumb.  We have a game we play.  He's pretty independent, as dogs go.  So when I want him to come to me from somewhere, I spread doggie treats in spots along the path.  Sometimes he doesn't watch me carefully and can't find the spot where I placed one.  Then I have to go back and point out to him where it is.  It's not that he is blind or near-sighted, mind you.  He has no trouble spotting people food if my daughter or I drop a piece of meat or cheese on the kitchen floor while we are cooking. 

He sleeps wherever he wants.  Newfies are not good at climbing stairs or making high jumps, so it's never on my bed.  It's not near my bed, either, though he occasionally tries that one.  He is a loyal owner lover.  Apparently there is not enough space there for his ample desires.  His favorite spots are front entry slate floor or the cement one in the garage.  It figures, with all that fur and three layers of it as well.  But he also likes to park in walkways anywhere, requiring us two residents in my small house to climb over or around him.  He won't move unless you ask him.  Then he is very accommodating, but only for a few feet.  Same game.  Yet we love him dearly.  Newfie's generally do what you want, when you want, so long as it doesn't take much energy.  Suits me fine.  But most of all I love those "leggy love hugs" that are sure to greet me whenever I come home from somewhere.  Anywhere. Every time. 

For those of you who. like me, find dogs are the best friends ever (Okay, for you diehard cat lovers, you may substitute your preference),

Margaret