HG often reads the Prince Edward Island Guardian (“We cover the Island like the dew”) with a second cup of breakfast latte. A story caught HG’s attention yesterday: It concerned a dog lover’s organization in Britain that was teaching Newfoundland dogs to swim, search and rescue. Yes, that was their function living on the ships of the Newfoundland and Labrador fishing fleets where they originated. But, when these gentle giants moved inland as household pets in the United States and Canada these skills were lost. So glad these dedicated Britons are trying to bring them back. Bobo was the name of HG/BSK’s Newfie companion on HG/BSK’s horse ranch in the Colorado Rocky Mountain foothills. Gentle and loving with children, obedient, very intelligent. For example, when HG was ready for sleep, HG would pat Bobo on his massive head and say: “Bedtime, Bobo.” Without any urging, Bobo would rise and hop down the stairs to the garage level (because of his heavy coat, Bobo liked to sleep in the cool garage). Using his paw, Bobo would open the garage door. Would carefully close it behind him before he slept. The procedure was reversed at breakfast time. Big dogs like Bobo (he weighed 150 pounds) don’t have much longevity. In the vet’s office, just before his demise, Bobo turned to HG, licked his hand and received a final nuzzle. One, last soulful look at HG. Goodbye. HG sobbed. Tears rolled down HG’s face. HG vowed. No more dogs. The end is too heartbreaking. However, many years later came Toby, The Wonder Dog. HG will be 89 in one month. The odds are in favor of Toby outliving the old guy.
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