I have said it before and, undoubtedly, I will say it many more times. That is that the connections made in the world of blogging are special beyond imagination. So many good people that one will never get to know in the traditional sense of being around that person yet people that one comes to know, and know well, through the medium of blogging.
I was contacted by Grinia who offered to write a guest post for this place. In turn, to better know her, I went across to her blog, Mirror & Soul, and then read this: Real Stories, Real People: Forecast: Blu Skies. I wanted to republish that and Grinia very rapidly gave me permission.
Alexandra thought of adopting a dog to provide company to her mother and bring a happy distraction to her days. What Alexandra didn’t expected was that this dog would become an important member of their family and would help her dealing with the emotions of caring for her mom with dementia. Alexandra became an advocate for rescuing dogs and she is sharing her touching story with us. Thank you Alexandra!
Forecast: Blu skies
By Alexandra Goodwin
My husband and I had many discussions about adopting a dog because he had grown up with dogs in the UK and missed having his four legged friends around. I was open to the idea as I had never had any pets growing up and thought perhaps it might help my mother, who has dementia and lives with us.
We went to various rescue shelters in February 2014 to get an idea of what kind of dog to get and to warm my mother up to the idea of acquiring a dog. My husband had had mostly pointers and greyhounds and we both wanted a medium / large dog with whom to go hiking and enjoy the outdoors.
When we went to the various shelters we knew we couldn’t bring anyone home right away due to my husband traveling for business the following month. One of the shelters we visited was Greyhound Friends in Hopkinton, Mass. My husband had made few solo trips there previously in his spare time and met Louise Coleman, owner of Greyhound Friends. They both had the same passion and heart for these neglected beautiful dogs. Blu was one of the dogs in the shelter back in February 2014. Blu was waving his paw at us as if he were trying to communicate and begging us to take him home.
Fast forward couple months later to April 26, 2014, a brisk Saturday morning when we set out to rescue a dog to bring home. We made many stops within 25 mile radius that day to various shelters. When we went to Greyhound Friends, we inquired about Blu as he had impacted his paw on our hearts back in February. Blu was in foster care in Milford, MA, so they called the foster parents and we arranged to go visit their home to see Blu again. We saw that Blu was comfortable and calm in home setting and was living with another dog and cat.
Blu’s a Bluetick Coonhound from way of Ohio. He was found in a litter of five back in Ohio when a generous rescue group called ” Stop the Suffering” picked up Blu and his mates. Blu was transferred to Greyhound Friends in the winter of 2013.
What drew us to Blu, aside from him waving at us, was that he had a cherry eye. Dogs have three eyelids and it’s common for dogs under the age of two for one of the eyelids to protrude. Cherry eye is not serious but if untreated it causes dry eye which then could lead to other complications. Blu will probably be on eye drop medications all his life.
After our Saturday afternoon of surveying various rescue shelters, we decided to adopt the dog who might be left behind, the underdog. We figured Blu might be overlooked because of his cherry eye. Most folks want to adopt puppies and the storybook happy perfect little dog. Little do they realize the trauma and suffering most dogs in shelters have had in their lives before being scooped up in shelters. All dogs just need patience and love and if you win their heart over, they will do anything for you and give back tenfold.
Blu has made a huge impact on our lives. For me, being the prime caretaker of my mother, he has calmed me down enormously and is aware of encompassing emotions. My mother’s not so fond of dogs as she grew up in Greece where dogs lived outside and their purpose was hunting. Blu has brought so much love and happiness in our lives that now can’t imagine life without him! Blu is a blessing!!! Thank you to all the rescue shelters who save dogs and try to find them forever homes — what a difficult and most rewarding job you have! Thank you for not giving up on these beautiful dogs!
Greyhound Friends is located in Hopkinton, Massachusetts, please go visit their kennel and find your best friend like we did….
NB: Regular readers will find that today’s post is rather different to my usual run of things. But I do hope that you end up sharing my feelings of mystery; sharing what seems to me utterly incomprehensible. I am speaking of The Infinite.
Let me start with this quotation:
The infinite has always stirred the emotions of mankind more deeply than any other question.
The infinite has stimulated and fertilised reason as few other ideas have. But also the infinite, more than another other notion, is in need of clarification.
Let me now take you back many years, back to the Autumn of 1969 when I left Gibraltar bound for The Azores on my yacht Songbird of Kent. I was sailing solo.
My home for five years – Songbird of Kent; a Tradewind 33.
Despite me being very familiar with my boat, and with sailing in general, there was nonetheless a deep sense of trepidation as I headed out into a vast unfamiliar ocean.
On the third or fourth night, I forget which, when some four hundred miles into the Atlantic and therefore far from the light pollution from the land, I came on deck and was emotionally moved in a way that has never ever been surpassed.
For way up in the heavens above me was the Andromeda galaxy, clearly visible with the naked eye.
Josh Blash captured this image of the Andromeda galaxy.
Although a couple of dozen minor galaxies lie closer to our Milky Way, the Andromeda galaxy is the closest major galaxy to ours. Excluding the Large and Small Magellanic Clouds, which can’t be seen from northerly latitudes, the Andromeda galaxy – also known as M31 – is the brightest galaxy in all the heavens. It’s the most distant thing you can see with your unaided eye, at 2.3 million light-years. To the eye, it appears as a smudge of light larger than a full moon.
Not only could I not take my mind off seeing the Andromeda galaxy, I couldn’t easily comprehend seeing the stars come all the way down to the horizon; all 360 degrees about me. Right down to the edge of my ocean horizon; a swirling blackness out to where it kissed that glorious night sky.
That image of that dome of stars would be forever burnt into my memory. An image that both made no sense, yet made every sense
Fast forward forty-seven years to now!
Recently we have had some beautiful clear nights here in Southern Oregon. Just the other night, before the moon had risen, there up in the night sky just a short distance from the constellation Cassiopeia was Andromeda. Immediately, my memory of that dark night sky out in the Atlantic came rushing back at me
The Andromeda galaxy is 2.3 million light-years away. But how can one possibly comprehend the distance? The fact that light travels at 186,000 miles per second or 671 million miles per hour (the exact value is 299,792,458 metres per second (approximately 3.00×108 m/s) has no meaning whatsoever. Think about it! Light is traveling at the equivalent speed of going around our planet 7.46 times every second!
But if you can’t fathom the distance to the Andromeda galaxy try this!
Back in March, 2016 a new galaxy that has been named GN-z11 was spotted by the Hubble space telescope 13.4 billion light years away. That’s approximately 5,830 times more distant than the Andromeda galaxy!
Now it is starting to become very difficult to comprehend.
But it was episode eight that made me lose my mind. Just like that night so many years ago on Songbird of Kent.
For that episode was called The Cosmos. You can listen to it here. Please, please do so! This is how that episode is presented:
Does space go on for ever? Are there infinitely many stars? These are some of the questions Adrian Moore explores in the eighth episode in his series about philosophical thought concerning the infinite.
With the help of the theories of the Ancient Greeks through to those of modern cosmologists, Adrian examines the central question of whether our universe is finite or infinite.
For most of us, looking up at the stars gives us a sense of infinity but, as Adrian discovers, there is a strong body of opinion which suggests that space is finite, albeit unbounded. This is a difficult idea to grasp, but by inviting us to think of ourselves as ants, astrophysics professor Jo Dunkley attempts to explain it.
Adrian also tackles the idea of the expanding universe and the logic that leads cosmologists to argue that it all started with a big bang, and may all end with a big crunch.
Finally, we discover from cosmologist John Barrow how the appearance of an infinity in scientists’ calculations sends them straight back to the drawing board. The infinite, which the Ancient Greeks found so troubling, has lost none of its power to disturb.
A Juniper production for BBC Radio 4.
If you find that episode compelling beyond belief then all the episodes are available on the BBC iPlayer and may be found here.
I started with a quotation that is the opening of the final episode. It is a quotation from the German mathematician David Hilbert. As Wikipedia explains, in part:
David Hilbert (German: [ˈdaːvɪt ˈhɪlbɐt]; 23 January 1862 – 14 February 1943) was a German mathematician. He is recognized as one of the most influential and universal mathematicians of the 19th and early 20th centuries.
I will return to that first sentence in Hilbert’s quotation:
The infinite has always stirred the emotions of mankind more deeply than any other question.
For me that sight of the Andromeda galaxy and the stars back in 1969 was in every meaning of the word a sight of the infinite and it has forever stirred my emotions very deeply indeed!
Like many other authors of blogs when someone decides to follow these scribblings and they are also the author of a blog I go across to their place and leave a thank you note. Frequently, I also say that if they would like to write a guest post for Learning from Dogs that I would welcome that.
Regular readers of this blog will know how often it is my pleasure to publish a guest post from another blogger.
So it is today.
Not very long ago there was a new follower who is the author of the blog: The Well Rounded Individual. I went across there and liked very much what I saw, especially a recent post about dogs.
I am honoured to have permission to share it with you all.
ooOOoo
Throw the Ball Already and Other Things I Can’t Live Without
I’m just going to put it out there. I love dogs. I have almost always lived with at least one member of the canine variety and I plan on doing so until I am no longer able to care for a furry friend. My early years were spent with a Cockapoo named Maxie. She was a miniature in size only. My parents adopted her before I was born and saved her from an abusive environment. Because of that she was a bit skittish around unfamiliar people. We usually had to keep her in a bedroom when company was over to avoid any incident. She was a loving dog and loyal to the family until canine parvovirus finally claimed her at about sixteen. After a few years of a pet-less house, my father surprised the family with an amazing ball of fur and fury that would grow into a 200 plus pound St. Bernard, Bernie. She was too smart for her own good and would use her size and strength to escape the back yard sending me sprinting through the neighborhood after her. She was the family’s center of attention for about three years. Then came rescued sisters. A Smooth Collie already named Lassie and a Shepherd, Malamute mix aptly named Rusty, would grace our home and create a circus for many years to come.
I mentioned they were sisters. Yes, they were litter mates. Two completely different dogs from the same mother. Ah, biology. I will let you do the research.
These three amazing animals kept the family company, entertained, protected and comforted for the next decade, even as I left for college and then moved out to start my adult life. No visit was complete without at least a few moments of play with each one of the three. They were each unique with their own personalities. They went through rawhide treats like Double-Mint gum. They patrolled the house for intruders. Most were birds, squirrels or just traffic going by the house. There was never a burglar, but we made them all feel like they had kept out Danny Ocean and his crew. The only real crime that ever took place was the untimely death of a new vacuum every year. Cause of death, dog hair.
As I transitioned into my adulthood, I began with a few rescued cats. I loved each of them dearly. They were affectionate and great companions. But, there was something missing. My cats never poked me with a cold, wet nose to get up and play ball. They never greeted me at the door with manic joy, even if it was just a short time since I had seen them. I missed that. Then, after a while something magnificent happened. I met my wife. She is without a doubt the best thing that has ever happened to me. By this time, I was again pet-less. So with my new girlfriend, came a wonderful Black Labrador Retriever mix by the name of Melanie. I rediscovered what I was missing. Shortly after I fell in love with both of them came some news that hit close to home. This ball loving, bed hogging, cool floor seeking companion was diagnosed with diabetes. Just like me. My soon to be wife was devastated and began to talk to me about how hard it would be to put her down.
I have never been one to put my condition out in the open. People know, I will talk about it, but it does not define me. But now, I had to stop and open up. I drew parallels between the two of us. And she began to see that this could be manageable for her too. It would require a little extra attention, but she could live a rich normal life. And she would. She stayed with us for another six years, making it beyond her twelfth birthday. As time passed and we moved to Phoenix, after four years, our girl developed cataracts. We checked into getting them removed, but were told they would only grow back. Instead of giving up, we took a different route.
After looking at a number of dogs, we had decided on a Siberian Husky. We wanted to be sure he was the one, so we looked at a few more. I was satisfied but my wife wanted to look at one more that caught her eye. It was all over. This dog chose us and I don’t think there was any way we were going home with anyone but her. We got the living breathing Ajax tornado. She was a bundle of puppy energy wrapped inside the fur of an American Bulldog. We named her Abby. For those of you who are familiar with this breed, she was of the Classic variety. She took to Mel immediately. She would lead her around the yard and through the house. At night they were always together. Abby would go off on her own to burn what seemed to be an endless amount of energy. She always came back to check on her big sister.
As Melanie began to age, Abby needed a new playmate. We were looking like we had before and this time I connected with a Boxer. It took a little convincing but she came home with us. This would be Sophie. She fell right in with what we could now call a pack. Unfortunately, it was only for a short time. Our beloved Melanie, welcomed her newest sister with open paws, but was only able to stay with us for three more weeks. We all felt the pain. But we had a new addition to the family. Sophie would not let us stay down. As a puppy, she was a true clown. In trying her best to keep up with her sister, she grew into a gorgeous, stout Boxer. She was my constant companion.
We had a few new challenges with our changing family. Abby was diagnosed with severe hip dysplasia. This meant, we had more frequent vet visits, new, special food and supplements to keep her healthy. They worked. As Abby grew, she became stronger and would only occasionally show outward signs. Sophie had her own heart murmur. As we learned, this is fairly common for Boxers. These challenges only brought us closer with our girls. So, with Abby at four and Sophie at two, we decided it was time to expand the pack.
Again we looked at many dogs and were undecided. On the third or fourth trip to visit, I had decided I wanted to take a close look at one dog in particular. On our prior visits, there was one dog who was not the one at the front of the kennel begging for attention. She was quiet and still but our eyes had met. I decided (on my own) if that dog was there she was coming home. If she was not, we were going to put the search on hold. I guess I don’t have to say, she was there. The cutest little Boston Terrier was cowering in the back. I asked to see her. When she was brought out to us, she was handed to my wife. We named her Maggie.
Maggie started life with a severe case of giardia. We did not care. We took her to the vet almost weekly at first. We could not cure her. We got to the point that the vet told us she needed a series of injections that would either cure her or kill her. We took the chance and Maggie is still with us.
As Maggie grew, she wanted to be the alpha. Abby was having none of it and Sophie just did not seem to care. Abby ruled the house, Sophie was the nursemaid and my close confidant. Maggie became my wife’s BFF. We had a happy mostly healthy pack for another five years.
About three years ago, my heart was ripped out when Sophie was diagnosed with pancreatitis and lymphoma. I still have a tremendous amount of guilt that I did not see symptoms in time to help her. We put her on medication that gave her a brief remission and made her feel like her old self for a few more months. We gave her one more Christmas, but it was not to be. Our Sophie lost her fight a little over a month later. Abby was nine by this time and her hips were beginning to bother her again and then she blew out a disk in her back. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, a year and a half later, Abby left us also. My soul was crushed, and so was my wife’s, but we still have Maggie.
Here we are, the two of us with our daughter. That is what all of our girls are, our daughters. Maggie is eight and in good health. We have a long list of breeds we want to look at for the next member of the pack. Our next son or daughter could be a pure breed. It could be a cross breed, or even a mutt. It won’t really matter because I know when that next dog connects with us, our list goes out the window and we will have our new child. I look forward to spending time with a new one, seeing the bonds that they will build. I also look forward to seeing Maggie with a new brother or sister. I want to watch her bond with a new furry person, like her older sisters.
I know with every new addition to the family, there is the inevitable pain that will one day come. Would I trade my time with any of my kids to take the pain away? Do not even suggest it. Like any human member of the family, the pain, after time, is easily outmatched by the pure joy they bring. I can’t wait to see who is next!
I would love to hear about your family and I encourage you to donate to the ASPCA or your animal friendly charity. Look into adoption. You will never regret it.
ooOOoo
I loved this essay and know many of you will have felt the same way. Fingers crossed there will be more!
Founded in 1998, Animals Asia promotes compassion and respect for all animals and works to bring about long-term change. We work to end the barbaric bear bile trade, which sees over 10,000 bears kept on bile farms in China, and, according to official figures, about 1,200 suffering the same fate in Vietnam.
Animals Asia has rescued over 500 bears, caring for them at its award-winning bear sanctuaries in China and Vietnam.
Animals Asia also works to end the trade in dogs and cats for food in China and Vietnam, and lobbies to improve the welfare of companion animals, promote humane population management and prevent the cross border export of “meat dogs” in Asia.
In addition, Animals Asia campaigns for an end to abusive animal practices in zoos and safari parks in Asia, and works closely with governing authorities to improve animal management and increase awareness of the welfare needs of captive animals.
Freed from a bile farm – is this the happiest bear ever?
Watch Tuffy jump for joy in his first days outside – after being rescued from a bear bile farm where he’d spent years of torture in a tiny cage.
Rescued in September last year on the same day as six other bears, Tuffy’s paws have hardly hit the ground since arriving at Animals Asia’s Vietnam sanctuary.
The vet team has been working hard to rehabilitate him after years of having his bile extracted. In fact his gall bladder was so damaged it had to be removed. Examinations had found numerous gallstones, meaning he’d lived in pain for years.
That wasn’t the only surgery Tuffy faced. In addition he had three fractured teeth removed. He also had painful, dry, cracked paws.
Animals Asia Bear Manager Louise Ellis said:
“The cracked paws are common to bile farm bears as they only walk on bars, not grass. Dehydration is likely to have contributed to this too. So for his carers to see him take to the pool so quickly after he first became ready to face the outdoors was an amazing moment.
“Coming from years of little or no water, for Tuffy this must feel like a true oasis after being parched and in pain for so long. It must have felt like such a relief to have the freedom to splash around in the water after only being able to stand on the hard metal bars of the bile farm cage.”
In fact Tuffy loved being outdoors so much he decided not to return to his den in the evening – choosing instead to sleep under the stars.
There are still around 1,200 bears in bile farms in Vietnam and over 10,000 more in China. Animals Asia has rescued nearly 600 bears from the bile industry and continues to care for almost 400.
Bear bile is used in traditional medicine.
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Dearest Tuffy! One of the lucky ones.
But that doesn’t diminish the anger and the disgust I feel at the way too many so called human beings can have such disregard for our beautiful animals!
With thanks to Suzann Reeve who sent this on to me.
You all have a very wonderful Autumn weekend.
ooOOoo
They told me the big black Lab’s name was Reggie,
as I looked at him lying in his pen.
The shelter was clean, no-kill,
and the people really friendly.
I’d only been in the area for six months, but
everywhere I went in the small college town, people
were welcoming and open. Everyone waves
when you pass them on the street.
But something was still missing as I attempted to settle
in to my new life here, and I thought a dog couldn’t hurt.
Give me someone to talk to. And I had just seen
Reggie’s advertisement on the local news. The shelter
said they had received numerous calls right after,
but they said the people who had come down
to see him just didn’t look like “Lab people,”
whatever that meant. They must’ve thought I did.
But at first, I thought the shelter had misjudged me
in giving me Reggie and his things, which consisted
of a dog pad, a bag of toys almost all of which were
brand new tennis balls, his dishes and
a sealed letter from his previous owner.
See, Reggie and I didn’t really hit it off when we got home.
We struggled for two weeks (which is how long the shelter
told me to give him to adjust to his new home).
Maybe it was the fact that I was trying to adjust, too.
Maybe we were too much alike.
I saw the sealed envelope. I had completely forgotten
about that. “Okay, Reggie,” I said out loud, “let’s see
if your previous owner has any advice.”
To Whomever Gets My Dog:
Well, I can’t say that I’m happy you’re reading this,
a letter I told the shelter could only be opened by
Reggie’s new owner. I’m not even happy writing it.
He knew something was different.
So let me tell you about my Lab in the hopes
that it will help you bond with him and he with you.
First, he loves tennis balls. The more the merrier.
Sometimes I think he’s part squirrel, the way he hoards them.
He usually always has two in his mouth, and he tries to get a third in there. Hasn’t done it yet.
Doesn’t matter where you throw them, he’ll bound after them, so be careful. Don’t do it by any roads.
Next, commands. Reggie knows the
obvious ones —“sit,” “stay,” “come,” “heel.”
He knows hand signals, too: He knows “ball”
and “food” and “bone” and “treat” like nobody’s business.
Feeding schedule: twice a day, regular
store-bought stuff; the shelter has the brand.
He’s up on his shots. Be forewarned: Reggie hates the vet.
Good luck getting him in the car. I don’t know how he
knows when it’s time to go to the vet, but he knows.
Finally, give him some time. It’s only been Reggie and
me for his whole life. He’s gone everywhere with me,
so please include him on your daily car rides if you can.
He sits well in the backseat, and he doesn’t bark
or complain. He just loves to be around people,
and me most especially.
And that’s why I need to share one more bit of info with you…His name’s not Reggie. He’s a smart dog, he’ll get used to it and will respond to it, of that I have no doubt. But I just couldn’t bear to give them his real name. But if someone is reading this …well it means that his new owner should know his real name.
His real name is “Tank.” Because, that is what I drive.
I told the shelter that they couldn’t make “Reggie” available for adoption until they received word from my company commander.
You see, my parents are gone, I have no siblings, no one I could’ve left Tank with … and it was my only real request of the Army upon my deployment to Iraq, that they make one phone call to the shelter …in the “event” … to tell them that Tank could be put up for adoption.
Luckily, my CO is a dog-guy, too, and he knew where my platoon was headed. He said he’d do it personally. And if you’re reading this, then he made good on his word. Tank has been my family for the last six years, almost as long as the Army has been my family. And now I hope and pray that you make him part of your family, too, and that he will adjust and come to love you the same way he loved me.
If I have to give up Tank to keep those terrible people from coming to the US I am glad to have done so. He is my example of service and of love. I hope I honored him by my service to my country and comrades.
All right, that’s enough. I deploy this evening and have to drop this letter off at the shelter. Maybe I’ll peek in on him and see if he finally got that third tennis ball in his mouth.
Good luck with Tank. Give him a good home, and
give him an extra kiss goodnight – every night – from me.
Thank you,
Paul Mallory
_____________________
I folded the letter and slipped it back in the envelope.
Sure, I had heard of Paul Mallory, everyone in town knew him, even new people like me. Local kid, killed in Iraq a few months ago and posthumously earning the Silver Star when he gave his life to save three buddies. Flags had been at half-mast all summer.
I leaned forward in my chair and rested my elbows on my knees, staring at the dog.
“Hey, Tank,” I said quietly.
The dog’s head whipped up, his ears
cocked and his eyes bright.
He was instantly on his feet, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor. He sat in front of me, his head tilted, searching for the name he hadn’t heard in months. “Tank,” I whispered. His tail swished.
I kept whispering his name, over and over, and each time, his ears lowered, his eyes softened, and his posture relaxed as a wave of contentment just seemed to flood him. I stroked his ears, rubbed his shoulders, buried my face into his scruff and hugged him.
“It’s me now, Tank, just you and me. Your old pal gave you to me.”
Tank reached up and licked my cheek.
“So whatdaya say we play some ball?”
His ears perked again.
“Yeah? Ball? You like that? Ball?”
Tank tore from my hands and disappeared into the next room. And when he came back, he had three tennis balls in his mouth.
If you can read this without getting a lump in your
throat or a tear in your eye, you just ain’t right.
============================== ======== “The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.” G.K. Chesterton
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Millions of us have to fight our demons, both real and imagined. Doing it without a dog by one’s side is so much harder!
Just recently, on the 20th to be precise, I added a comment to the ‘About’ page of the blog: Beyond The Flow.
This is what I wrote”
Hi Rowena, I’m the author of the blog Learning from Dogs and recently one of my followers “RoughseasintheMed” recommended one of your posts: https://beyondtheflow.wordpress.com/2016/09/19/a-different-type-of-rescue-dog/Apart from the pleasure in making the connection, I would love to have your permission to republish your post over on LfD.Look forward to hearing from you.
Paul H.
Rowena is a blogger, mother and wife and explains a little about her blog, thus:
Beyond the Flow documents our journey through life’s ups and downs from a fairly philosophical and hopefully humourous perspective so hopefully you’ll laugh, cry and think a bit as you share in our adventures.
Based on the Australian East-Coast just North of Sydney, this motley cast and crew features:
Myself-Rowena
Anyway, Rowena very promptly offered me permission and it is my pleasure to republish this wonderful account of a Newfoundland (the dog that is not the country).
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A Different Type of Rescue Dog.
Welcome to Rumford, Maine where we’re chatting with ferry master Jerry Putnam and his dog, Major beside the Androscoggin River. Major is a New Foundland or “Newfie” and while I’m used to big dogs, Major is more like a bear crossed with a tank and yet he’s very friendly.
Androscoggin River, New Hampshire, sadly renowned for its poor water quality.
Please be advised that you’ll be needing to set you watch back more than just a couple of hours to join me on this trip. You see, we’re traveling back to 1885 or thereabouts to hear this tale. By the way, I apologise if the details get a little sketchy on this trip. You see, I’ve never been to America and I’ve never seen a Newfoundland dog beyond Googles images. However, I’ve never let that stop me from spinning a yarn before and it won’t stop me now. I stumbled across this story online in a small Australian country newspaper from 1885. I have no idea how it found its way there but it seems that after all these years, I’ll be sending the story all the way back to Rumford, Maine where I hope it finds a new home.
As you might be aware Newfoundlands are excellent and enthusiastic swimmers and are famed as the lifesavers of the sea. Indeed, there have even been some famous and very impressive rescues carried out by Newfoundlands:
In 1881 in Melbourne, Australia, a Newfoundland named Nelson helped rescue Thomas Brown, a cab driver who was swept away by flood waters in Swanston Street on the night of 15 November. While little is known about what became of Nelson, a copper dog collar engraved with his name has survived and 130 years after the rescue it was acquired by the National Museum of Australia and is now part of the National Historical Collection.
In the early 20th century, a dog that is thought to have been a Newfoundland saved 92 people who were on the SS Ethie which was wrecked off the Northern Peninsula of Newfoundland during a blizzard. The dog retrieved a rope thrown out into the turbulent waters by those on deck, and brought the rope to shore to people waiting on the beach. A breeches buoy was attached to the rope, and all those aboard the ship were able to get across to the shore including an infant in a mailbag. Wreckage of the ship can still be seen in Gros Morne National Park. E. J. Pratt‘s poem, “Carlo”, in the November 1920 issue of The Canadian Forum commemorates this dog.
In 1995, a 10-month-old Newfoundland named Boo saved a hearing-impaired man from drowning in the Yuba River in Northern California. The man fell into the river while dredging for gold. Boo noticed the struggling man as he and his owner were walking along the river. The Newfoundland instinctively dove into the river, took the drowning man by the arm, and brought him to safety. According to Janice Anderson, the Newfoundland’s breeder, Boo had received no formal training in water rescue.
You can watch some Newfoundlands going through their rescue paces here:
By now, I’m sure I’ve whetted your appetites sufficiently and you’re all just longing to find out what Major did. What act of great heroism plucked this ordinary dog out of obscurity and onto the pages of a distant Australian newspaper?
However, there’s an exception to every rule. Just because some dog’s profiles read like a brochure from the Kennel Club, there’s always an exception. Just as people don’t like being categorized, stereotyped or told how they should conform to type, dogs can be much the same.Not that Major almost drowned but he did have a different interpretation of what constitutes a “rescue”.
Or, did he?
After all, what constitutes a rescue? Is it just about saving that drowning person from the surging waters? Or, is it also about encouraging someone to overcome their fear of drowning, let go of the edge and finally learn to swim? What if that person doesn’t respond to “encouragement”? Is it okay to add a bit of persuasion? A nudge? A tug or even the proverbial cattle prod?
Well, you don’t need to ask Major. When it came to helping his canine counterpart overcome his fear, he was a Dog of Action with no time for philosophising, desensitization or phoning a friend. When a brindle hound was too scared to swim out to its owner on the ferry and was howling on the shore, Major grabbed it by the scruff and threw it in the water so it either had to sink or swim.
You’ve got to laugh and who hasn’t been tempted to do that to someone we know, but a bit of compassion doesn’t go astray either.
So, even if another dog is having a full blown panic attack about getting their precious paws wet, you don’t grab him by the scruff and throw him in the drink. After all, most breeds of dog don’t have a Newfoundland’s webbed paws, innate love of swimming and other special design features. They chase sheep.
I’m not putting my paws in there!
Of course, this includes the Border Collie. While our last Border Collie loves chasing sticks through the surf, Bilbo rarely gets his paws wet and it’s taken a lot of angst for him to get to the point where he sometimes now retrieves his ball out of the wash on the beach.
Indeed, Bilbo has had a few newsworthy water avoidances and he could well have been cast as that miserable mutt Major threw into the river.
Finally some assistance. Miss puts Bilbo out of his misery!
A few years ago, when Bilbo saw us all kayaking from the backyard at Palm Beach, he also started howling and fretting just like that other poor hound. Bilbo chewed through the back gate, jumped the back fence and we were about a kilometre from home when we looked out and kids said: “Someone else has a Border Collie”. As we paddled closer, our fears were confirmed. It was our freaked out mutt, giving us the paw: “What do you think you’re doing going out there on that crazy contraption? OMG!!!! You could fall in. Drown!!!! Then, who’s going to feed me?” His heart was racing. He was puffing. The dog was a wreck…so was the gate!
I would never have thrown Bilbo into the water to get him used to it. Yet, over time, he accidentally fell in the pool chasing his ball. He also fell out of the kayak and took our son into the water with him. That could’ve been nasty because he tried grabbing on to Mister which could’ve pulled him under. However, through all of this knockabout exposure and by being part of our family, Bilbo isn’t quite so anxious anymore. He’s stepped out and started filling out those paws, becoming a brave dog.
Meanwhile, here’s the original newspaper story about Major:
A Dog Story.
When Jerry Putnam had charge of the ferry at Rumford, Me., over the Androscoggin River, he owned one of the handsomest Newfoundland dogs I ever saw, and the dog was as intelligent as he was handsome. Like all of his kind, he was fond of the water, and further than that, he manifested an absolute contempt for those of his species who shrank from the aqueous element, and it is of one of those contemptuous manifestations that I wish to tell, for I was there and saw.
The ferryboats, of various sizes, to accommodate different burdens, were impelled by means of a stout cable stretched from shore to shore, as that was the only device by which the heavy boats could be kept to their course in times of strong currents, and during seasons of freshet I have seen a current there that was wonderful.
One warm summer day, while a few of us were sitting in the shade of an old apple tree, between Jerry’s house and the river, two gentlemen, with implements for hunting and fishing, came down to be set across, and straightway one of the boys went to answer the call. He selected a light gondola, the two gentlemen stepped onboard, and very soon they were off ; but before they had got far away from the shore a common brindle house dog came rushing down upon the landing, where he stood and barked and howled furiously— furiously at first, and then piteously.
The boat was stopped, and from the signs made we judged that the strange dog belonged to one of the passengers. Yes, the owner was calling to him to come.
‘Come Ponto! Come !Come! ‘
But Ponto didn’t seem inclined to obey. Instead of taking to the water, he stood there, on the edge of the landing, and howled and yelped louder than before.
Presently old Major — our Newfoundland; who had been lying at our feet, got up and took a survey of the scene. Jerry said only this—’What is it, Major! What dy’e think of it?”
The dog looked around at his master, and seemed to answer that he was thoroughly disgusted. And then he started for the boat-landing — started just as the boy in the boat, at the earnest solicitation of his passenger, had begun to pull back. With dignified step, Major made his way down upon the landing, proceeded directly to the yelping cur, took him by the nape of the neck; and threw him — he did not drop him — but gave him a vigorous, hearty throw, far out into the water ; and when he had done that he stood his ground as though to prevent the noisy, cowardly animal from landing. He stood there until he had seen the cur turn and swim towards the boat — until he had been taken on board by his master— after which he faced about, with military dignity and precision, and came back to his place beneath the apple tree.
— N. Y. Ledger.
The Burrowa News (NSW : 1874 – 1951)Friday 13 March 1885 p 3 Article
Have you ever been to Rumford, Maine or had any experiences with Newfoundlander Dogs? We’d love to hear your tales!
xx Rowena
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Let me add to Rowena’s wish to hear your experiences with Newfoundland Dog’s, or any other dogs!
The September equinox marks the moment the Sun crosses the celestial equator – the imaginary line in the sky above the Earth’s equator – from north to south and vice versa in March.
That moment is at precisely 14:21 UTC today, September 22nd. Welcome to Autumn, or Fall in American speak!
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I was contacted by Susan Leighton recently offering me a guest post. Susan is a regular follower of this place and frequently drops in with responses and comments. Susan is also the founder of the blog: Woman on the Ledge (I can recommend her blog, by the way!)
Here is Susan’s guest post.
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Life Lessons from Maggie
I have walked this earth for fifty years and I have been a proud dog parent several times over. My latest child is an incredibly exuberant eight-year-old Boston Terrier named Maggie. Maggie Mae’s Up, Up, and Away is her full name. My husband and I got her in New Mexico which is the site of a world famous hot air balloon festival so hence the nod to the 5th Dimensions song.
Maggie was actually a surprise. I was going through an exceptionally rough time (unfortunately it was the beginning of several trying years) and my husband thought that she would cheer me up. The moment she was placed in my arms, a love affair and deep bond began. I looked into her expressive brown eyes and knew that I had just met my canine BFF.
When she was a puppy, we had a bit of a health scare with her. She was diagnosed with a severe case of giardia. The medication we were given to combat the illness wasn’t working. Our vet decided to treat her with a round of shots. It was touch and go for a few days but she came through with flying colors.
From an early age, she was our little toughie. Small in stature, she refused to let her bigger sisters get the best of her. Their long legs might have surpassed hers but she never gave up and would constantly compete to be number one in back yard games.
Dogs are amazing creatures. They are incredibly intuitive and sometimes I think they just might be smarter than us. In the years that I have been privileged to know Maggie she has taught me many life lessons. I would like to share some of that knowledge with you.
Every day is an adventure – don’t be a slave to routine. Maggie definitely isn’t one. Yesterday, she had an impromptu game of keep away with her stuffed animal. Today she was feeling like playing tug of war with her rope. Try something new. Even if you work 8 hours a day, you can still incorporate little surprises into your schedule. Maybe you always eat the same lunch every day. Change it up. Instead of that boring sandwich, opt for a salad or even a taco! Have a break between meetings or conference calls? Go outside and take a brisk walk for 10 minutes. Every day is new, treat it that way!
Make time to play – you know what I dislike the most about being an adult next to paying bills? I miss not having recess. That was my favorite time of the day when I was a kid. School stopped for an hour and I could run around with my friends and have fun. Why is it that we lose our sense of play when we grow older? Maggie has helped me to realize that it is possible to metaphorically return to the school yard. Every day we go outside and play catch in the back yard. Not only is it good bonding time for us but it is also a chance for me to relax and let go of the stress of the day.
Love unconditionally – this seems simple right? It really isn’t. So many people make it their mission to change the ones they love. Their significant other has a personality quirk that is less than endearing, why not try to lessen it or eliminate it altogether? I understand that life is about compromise but at the expense of not being able to be comfortable in your own skin? Maggie has been with me through many changes and throughout those changes, she has done nothing but support me. She loves me if I am having a bad hair day or if I have gained a few pounds. She loves the real me blemishes and all!
Be curious – whenever we take Maggie on a jaunt to the local pet store, she is more than willing to approach other dogs and other people. She wants to know more about everything in life. I jokingly tell her that she suffers from FOMO (fear of missing out) because she wants to be involved in every activity. I guess this is why I challenge myself to learn about new technologies, new books, new music, etc. The more engaged I feel, the more alive I am. I have never stopped learning.
Give thanks – whenever Maggie is presented with food, a treat, her ball, a toy, she is thankful. She is just glad that she is able to enjoy these things but mostly she is thrilled that she gets to have time with her family. As the years pass by, I am acutely aware of how tenuous life is and how in the blink of an eye, the people that we cherish may not be around for us to tell them how much we value their presence in our life. I make it a point to let the people closest to me know that I am thankful for them each and every day.
Hug your dog and let him or her know how grateful you are for the life lessons that they have shared with you. That is what I will be doing with Maggie. I could not have asked for a better teacher.
Yesterday lunchtime was a very stressful period. Because I was speaking to various members of the family in England but especially to my sister, Eleanor, who had come over from South Africa to be with my mother, and to Rose, my cousin, who lives in Baldock, Hertfordshire, and is being so supportive.
In the middle of all of this Brandy came across to the low table where the remains of my lunchtime sandwich were still on my plate and started helping himself. I was striding around the room speaking to Eleanor and when I spotted Brandy eating my lunch I really showed my anger. I shouted “No!” and prodded him hard in the back. Brandy slunk off giving me a really foul look.
Fifteen minutes later Jean and I took the dogs outside for their regular ‘after-lunch’ leg-stretch and Brandy kept his distance from me. I went across to Brandy: “Oh, Brandy! I am so sorry for being cross with you Please forgive me.” There was real remorse in my voice and, undoubtedly, showing on my face too.
Brandy came over to me and nestled his wonderful, beautiful head against my thighs and I curled down and rubbed his chest with my left hand. As simply and as quickly as it could ever be, Brandy had forgiven me.
A short while ago I was approached by a Mary Neilsen who asked me if I would like her to write a post for Learning from Dogs. I agreed and in hindsight I am so pleased I did.
Read her wonderful post and you will understand why!
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Is Your Dog Holding a Grudge?
Your dog throws you that look – you know the one – and walks away. You’ve been snubbed! So what is causing this emotional outburst? Maybe your canine pal is holding a grudge.
“What have I done now?” you might ask yourself. Depending on the circumstances, you may not be guilty of anything. You may just be misinterpreting that look – or yes, indeed, your furry friend may be paying you back for some grievance.
No pet owner is perfect. We all make mistakes. We accidentally step on our pet’s tail; take away a favorite toy; or abandon them to a night alone in the house. These are things that can set our dog to turn their backs on us to teach us a lesson – if only for a little while. But is it true? Do dogs really hold grudges?
The Experts Say No
If you live with guilt every time your furry friend gives you a sideways look, you are reading too much into it, say the experts. They don’t hold grudges and they don’t act in petty ways or seek revenge. [Ed: The dogs that is not the ‘experts’! Sorry; couldn’t resist!] Their emotional lives are not as complicated as humans. Dogs are more simple creatures. They live in the moment.
According to famed canine expert Cesar Millan, dogs don’t hold long-term grudges simply because they can’t. They don’t think that way. Sure, they may act miffed now, but will soon forget what’s bothering them and move past it.
People, on the other hand, tend to hold onto negative feelings and expressing that kind of anger or anxiety can make your dog react too. In other words, if you express prolonged feelings of guilt over slamming your dog’s paw in the screen door, he may react by steering clear. It is not the action that is causing him to distance himself from you for a while; it’s your reaction to the event. In other words, it is your angst causing him to act this way.
What We Can Learn From Our Dogs
There may be some who still believe dogs can (and do) hold grudges, while research shows this assumption incorrect. Even so, there is one thing most canine psychological experts agree on and it is that we can learn an important lesson from our canine counterparts: how to let go.
Humans have a really hard time letting go of our grievances. In a recent Gallop poll, more than two thirds of participants acknowledged the importance of forgiveness, yet less than half actually were able to forgive those who hurt them. That equals a lot of grudge holding going on.
While our dogs move past every infraction, humans tend to hold on, dwelling on our hurts and allowing them to rule our lives. This can cause relational issues; depression, or worse. But, when we take after our dogs and let go of those negative feelings we can experience such benefits as:
Take a look at your dog. He seems happy enough. Wouldn’t you like to be able to experience the kind of true joy and relaxation he does? The trick to that kind of contentment is learning how to let go of those grudges and live in the moment.
Yes, people are going to hurt us. That is simply life. But those hurts do not have to cause you chronic pain. Take a cue from your dog. Allow yourself to feel the pain in the moment, and then move on. You will discover that life is a lot more enjoyable that way.
About the Author
Mary Nielsen is a passionate dog lover, blogger and part-time music teacher. She founded MySweetPuppy.net to share her ups and downs of being a pet parent to a bunch of adorable mutts. When she is not playing with them or teaching, you can find her experimenting in the kitchen.
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Please join with me in thanking Mary for such a delightful guest post and hoping that we will be reading more from her.
(The second part of Peter and Leslie Sonne’s guest post. Do read the first part before today’s post.)
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It was December 2010. We didn’t need another dog. We had four at the time, one of whom had just started chemotherapy.
A staff member at our specialty vet knew of a rescue that reminded her of our beloved cattle dog, who we had lost the year before, and pushed us to contact the foster mom. Peter had really been missing his truck buddy and none of the other dogs had worked as his constant companion.
The photos melted our hearts and we contacted the foster mom, Jenn. The little girl was called Hedgehog, as she had lost much of her hair due to neglect and as it was growing back in, everyone thought she looked like a hedgehog. It was love at first sight, but Jenn diligently ensured that “Hedgy” got along with the rest of the ranch hands before approving the adoption. Peter teaching her to roll over within 5 minutes of meeting her helped seal the deal. The adoption led to an immediate name change and our Peggy Sue joined the pack. We thank Jenn for giving us the thumbs up and allowing us to share the second half of Peggy’s life.
Peggy acclimated to the pack quickly, although she was a loner. Fiercely independent, she would often be in her rocker in the great room, keeping an eye on the scary ceiling fan, while the rest of the gang was in the office or kitchen with us. She sort of just tolerated the others, although on rare occasion her nub would go up and she would play with someone for about 30 seconds – almost like she figured it was expected of her now and then.
One of Peggy’s favorites things was to go for rides in the truck. She preferred to be alone, but would grudgingly share her backseat with one or more siblings if necessary. We think she actually preferred to be with only one of us so that she could ride shotgun, resting her head on the console and gazing at us with eyes full of love. The ear massages as we meandered down the road helped!
We discovered right away that she was a foodie. While she never really begged, actually feigning a look of boredom at the human meal process, she moved with lightning speed to get any morsel that fell to the ground and the others quickly learned to not even try to out maneuver her.
Peggy was not overtly affectionate, did not like to cuddle and really did not give kisses. However, it was certainly OK for some humans to give her belly rubs, neck massages and her favorite, massages to her ears. Peggy had a signature gait where as she trotted along every few steps her back legs would do a little hop, which would propel her back end forward, causing her to look like the letter “J.” I loved to watch, as she would trot down the hall each morning beside Peter.
Last August, we found a small lump on her neck and she was diagnosed with lymphoma. She breezed through the chemotherapy and was in remission when a different lymphoma was discovered. She breezed through that treatment and all was good. She was in remission from both when she started having GI problems and unspecified infections. Initially, she was able to respond and rebound but a couple of days ago she got sick again. Hoping for the best, we treated her, but when our little foodie stopped eating, not even tempted with the tastiest morsel, we felt that she was giving us a sign.
Last night, we spent a couple of hours with her as she relaxed on the lawn. Her nose was often raised in the air as if taking in all the smells of the ranch that she loved so much. This morning, Mille, Samantha and Jake all said their goodbyes, and she accepted their kisses, which was another sign to us that she was ready to go.
As we sat with her this morning we knew that she was dancing across the Rainbow Bridge, with her signature hop, as she went to join all of our other ranch hands that have gone before. We pictured Bucky and Spencer playing in the river with Lexy and Minnie, Sundance egging Jack and Gus into a game of tag and Queenie impatiently waiting for Peggy to brief her on the ins and outs of her new pack. Big Jake happily grazes nearby and looks forward to a nap in the sun while the others watch his back.
From the bottom of our hearts we thank Dr. Merrianne Burtch from Pacific Veterinary Specialists for her initial treatment and Dr. Theresa Arteaga from Animal Cancer Center for her loving extended treatment (and both of them for their friendship). Dr. Arteaga and her fantastic staff (Jodi, Linda, Nicole and Elizabeth) always made Peggy’s treatments as relaxing as possible and this morning was no exception.
To know us is to know our dogs. To know us is to know our heartache.
Peter and Leslie
PS- Miss Peggy Sue most certainly did become Peter’s truck buddy and constant companion!
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When I was working on this post yesterday afternoon, I didn’t have a clue as to how to close it off. This from someone who is not normally lost for words.
But I wanted some words that would leave the most glorious echo or afterglow of Peggy, and of every other dog that brings out the best of love in us.
One of the followers of this place is Susan Leighton. This is her blog: Woman on the Ledge.
I will close with Susan’s words:
I guess one of the reasons I am enamored with dogs is because they give to us unconditional love. They don’t care what we look like, if we are rich or poor, they are attracted to our souls.
I have another guest post for you tomorrow that, as with Maria’s story yesterday, will be appreciated greatly by you.
But for today I’m going to republish an item that appeared on the Care2 site that isn’t a million miles away from Maria’s theme about her Ellie finding lost persons.
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3 Rescued Dogs Who Saved Their Family Members’ Lives This Year
Celebrated on August 26 every year, National Dog Day encourages pet adoptions and honors dogs who save lives, keep us safe and bring us comfort. Created in 2004 by pet lifestyle expert Colleen Paige, the holiday falls on the date her family adopted their first rescue dog. Among the ways you can celebrate are by adopting a dog of your own or donating $5 to your local animal shelter.
In honor of National Dog Day, meet three rescued dogs who really “pawed” it forward this year by saving the lives of their forever family members.
Leon Alerts Family to Home Intruders
As Theresa Lero was feeding her horses outside her Gulfport, Miss., home early one April morning, two armed and masked men entered her house.
When she went inside, her rescue dog, Leon, was growling at the door to the sunroom. Peeking through a window, Lero saw a man with a gun.
She ran to wake up her husband. Grabbing a gun, she ran back to the sunroom with her dog by her side. “Get ‘em, Leon,” she told him.
The men began shooting. They missed Lero, but shot Leon in the head. “You shot my dog. I’ll kill you myself,” Lero yelled at them. A neighbor heard her and called 911.
The intruders ran off and were later caught by police. In the meantime, the Leros rushed Leon to the veterinarian. Amazingly, the bullet skimmed his skull and exited out his ear. He was able to walk in and out of the animal hospital.
For saving his family, Leon was given a framed certificate of bravery from the county sheriff.
When the Leros adopted their dog from a shelter two years ago, they thought he was a redbone coonhound, so they named him after the singer Leon Redbone. As it turns out, Leon may actually be a red nose pit bull. One thing is certain: Leon is definitely a hero.
Haus Saves Girl from Rattlesnake
In May, 7-year-old Molly Deluca was playing in her Tampa backyard with Haus, the German Shepherd her family adopted in March from a rescue organization, when her grandmother noticed Haus jump in front of the girl and then rear up.
He was protecting her from a venomous Eastern diamondback rattlesnake that had slithered in from a habitat at a nearby state park. Haus “had every opportunity to run but he didn’t,” Molly’s mother, Donya Deluca, told the Associated Press.
Molly was unharmed, but Haus was bitten three times in the leg. He was successfully treated at an animal hospital for kidney damage, and was given a blood transfusion and anti-venom. A week later, Haus was well enough to return home. His expensive veterinary bills were covered by generous donations from an online fundraising campaign. Haus received a Heroic Dog Award from PETA.
“He just exceeded our expectations all the way around,” Molly’s dad, Adam DeLuca, told the Associated Press. “He’s the type of dog that when you want to go buy a dog, you pay thousands of dollars and that’s the dog you get. But we adopted him and got him for free.”
Earl Wakes Up New Owner as House Burns
Barely a week after he was adopted from Petco’s Stray Animal Adoption Program in July, a pug named Earl rescued his new dog mom by alerting her to a house fire in their Erlanger, Ky., home.
“He just fell asleep with me on the couch along with (another dog named) Tucker, and the next thing I know, he’s waking me up, licking my face. It’s the first time he’s done that,” Kristina Brate told WLWT.
The fire, believed to have been caused by faulty wiring, started in the basement and quickly spread through the rest of the house.
Brate lost almost everything in the fire, but she’s alive thanks to Earl. Petco awarded the hero dog with a $500 shopping spree to help replace the lost pet items and also stock up on some well-deserved treats.
“I believe that he came to me for a reason,” Brate told WLWT. “I think that, for some reason, the first family had passed him up and that there’s a reason why I got him.”
What drew us to Blu, aside from him waving at us, was that he had a cherry eye. Dogs have three eyelids and it’s common for dogs under the age of two for one of the eyelids to protrude. Cherry eye is not serious but if untreated it causes dry eye which then could lead to other complications. Blu will probably be on eye drop medications all his life.
Learning from Dogs 