TRAVELING – WITHOUT THE NEWF

Written 11/30/09

Greg had to be out of town last night, but he packed so quickly that Parker didn’t notice. It was also dinnertime, so the Newfs were in the kitchen with me with so much anticipation for their dinner being prepared that they were not observing Greg.

When I went to bed, a very worried boy parked himself in front of the bedroom door and waited, and waited. Then he got on the bed with me and faced the door, and he began making worry sounds. Parker is a firm believer that we all need to be together at bedtime. He must have not even noticed that Greg left with his suitcase. Greg was moving pretty quickly. So, I think he had no clue that this wasn’t just a trip to town. Usually, when he sees the packing in progress, he acts bummed, and he worries a little differently. I think this time it caught him off-guard.

He finally went to sleep, and he has been joyful and playful this morning, but he is back in the bedroom, at the door facing out. Fortunately this will be a short trip.

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9 YEARS AGO TODAY (4/5/11)

(Written about Parker 4/5/2002)

I’m not an early riser by nature, but because of the new addition, I have made many trips outside at intervals throughout the night. 5:30 a.m. has been one of the routine times.

This morning, Little Big Stuff (has no name yet) crowed his 5:30 a.m. call. I got up as usual, put on sweats, shoes & a jacket, collected the leash and went outside with him. At this time of the morning, the cats often parade by, interrupting his focus, so things may take a little longer. I thought I heard something as we reached the potty area, and listened harder. (My ears are awake all night long now, but my eyes open only enough to get the task done.) I heard it again, but wasn’t sure of what I was hearing. My ears were now fully tuned in, listening for this sound, and I heard it again. It was a chorus of turkeys gobbling, along with the echoes of those gobbles, coming from the creek behind the house!

That is a very welcome sound! Hints of spring arrive with the daffodils and the migrating songbirds, but this makes it official.

Happy Spring to everybody!

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STUFFY RESCUE

Written Jan. 10, 2002

I’ve heard a lot of people, including vets, say that dogs are colorblind. Hmmm. Banker has a distinct preference for bright colors, especially hot pink. I suppose he qualifies as a gentleman also, because he prefers blondes. Much to his delight, one of our guests last weekend was a blonde-haired niece wearing bright pink tennis shoes. She has a cute giggle too.

[The kids, by the way, left with a new euphamism for “foul odors” – Who’s cooking Brussels sprouts? When they thought it was the dogs, and I thought it was them, we finally determined that it was the Brussels sprouts.]

When Banker shops for his toys, usually at dog shows, he notices bright colors first. At a show in November, his pick was Webster Duckworth. Quite a cute toy – fairly bright yellow and very soft. I think he was sold when his tongue bumped the toy and he felt how soft it was. Webster quickly became the new favorite. Banker attempted to perform the usual squeakectomy, but stopped before removing it. The squeaker had been punctured, and he didn’t seem concerned about it any longer.

Webster was getting dirty to the point that he wasn’t yellow any more. So, not long ago, I gathered the toys for washing and put them in with a load of grooming towels. I checked the tag on Webster to see if he was machine-washable, but there wasn’t much of a tag left. All of his other toys were machine-washable, so Webster went in also. When I opened the washer, there were little balls of stuffing wound into every item in the washer, plus a layer of stuffing on top of everything. How could one little toy have that much stuffing missing and still look basically the same? I discovered that Webster had an almost surgical belly-button incision plus during the washing, his sides had ripped open.

Today I rescued a stuffy! I bought new stuffing and matching yellow thread, then put Webster back together again. Oh happy reunion! I feel like a Mom!

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BEAR PATROL

Written 6/19/08

It was a lovely evening for a bored (and I mean, REALLY bored) Newfoundland to go for a walk. Plus, it was Thursday, which precedes Friday, so the weekend is on its way!

Parker was overdue for a walk in town. Walks in town are where Newfs are hugged and petted and where they get an opportunity to read their p-mail.

I needed to stop at the Post Office, and wanted to see if the new coffee shop was open yet, so instead of going toward the park, we went toward the square. As we walked on the sidewalk along one of the smaller streets, a police car that was moving toward us began to slow down. My first thought was about whether I would have trouble negotiating with the officer about living outside of town, where we are not required to have a license or vaccinate annually but rather every 3 years. That was followed quickly with a memory of a story from another Newf owner about being stopped by a patrol car with flashing lights for walking a “bear” on a leash.

Fortunately, this officer was just a very nice guy who was taken with Parker. His expression abated any of my hesitation. He said, “I’ll bet you have heard this hundreds of times” and I wondered which of those I would hear next, but all he said was , “But, Wow!” It’s always a joy to share your joy with someone else, and a pleasure to meet those who share that joy.

We had an enjoyable walk for the rest of the evening, and I thought about some of the other stories where “bears” had been sighted and posters put up around town, in different areas in North America and in Europe. Life can certainly be more interesting shared with a Newf, particularly with the Ambassador of Good Humor!

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