William a very different Newfoundland (Part 2)

William was now our dog in reality but nothing changed, he never knew we had been his foster parents up to this point and we never told him.   Life for him continued much as it had before; his relationship with Meg matured from mother and child to boss and minion.   It was obvious he adored her in a platonic sort of way.   On the human side he seemed to bond with husband Mike and Mike for his part thought the world of him.   But William was a dog  who’s affection covered all humanity.

Meg died in circumstances away from him and it was a few days before he realised that the parting was permanent.   I guess I didn’t help as I knew long before he did that she was dead, I had lost my best friend and was for a time inconsolable.   William didn’t know  why I was so upset and tried to cheer me up but as time went on he seemed to realise that Meg was not coming home and wandered round at first looking in her favourite spots then later just wandering totally miserable.   He refused to eat and became ill, it was obvious what we should do, we had to replace Meg, give him a canine interest in life again.   We had a real problem as the need was urgent and there were no bitch puppies for sale at the time so we bought Osca at least it would be an interest for William even if he was the wrong sex.

It took him a longish while to accept Osca, he certainly didn’t fill Meg’s place but it did give William something to think about, if only how to get out of the puppy’s way.  It worked he started eating again and taking an interest in the world.   After several attempts at leading Osca away and trying to lose him (we had to keep a close eye on them at this juncture) he settled down to his responsibilities becoming a father figure for a few months.   As Osca grew into an adult dog they became buddies and virtually did everything together.

Like all our dogs William slept in the bedroom with us, there’s no use in having a dog to protect you if he’s locked away somewhere else.   Then one night William stopped coming up to the bedroom and settled himself at the bottom of the stairs.   He would look up at us but refuse to join us.   On one occasion we persuaded him to join us but he climbed the stairs very slowly and obviously in pain; we never asked him to do it again.   It was time to get the vet to check him out.   He was sedated and x-rayed, it was advance cancer there was very little solid bone in his back leg.   The vet never brought him round another faithful friend gone.

William a very different Newfoundland (Part 1)

 

 

William was a magnificent Landseer Newfoundland with more champions in his pedigree than you could shake a stick at. He had been born in quarantine to an American bitch with the right forbears, introduced into the UK to strengthen the breed. I don’t know about his brothers and sisters but I was to learn much about William.

He was brought by a Newfoundland breeder to service a very nice bitch she had and was loaned to me on a breeder’s contract, which in essence meant I would look after him as my dog but she would show him and breed from him under her name. So I had him from a pup and with Meg’s help we trained him in basic good manners like asking ‘to go out and not weeing in the house’, he learnt a lot more from her but that’s for the book. He grew up quite rapidly becoming larger by the week until he topped Meg quite handsomely in fact he was a very big example of the breed. Despite his size he was  really soft and friendly to all other dogs and humans. In fact it was not unknown for him during a walk to wander into people’s houses if they had left the front door open which was still common at the time in the country and introduce himself. Sometimes he would rush out if the reception was hostile and Meg would box his ears but most times the family would come out with him whilst he behaved as though he was their dog. We found out later that these families would often give him a tip bit and so it became increasingly difficult to get him past their doors whether they were open or closed.

However there came a time when he was attacked by another dog and sadly this changed his opinion of the canine world and he adopted the view “attack is the best form of defence” which meant that if there was another dog about he was on the lead all the time. Fortunately he had learnt from Meg and myself that when he was on the lead I had control. The love for all two legged animals still remained. His relationship with Meg was that of mother and child, it was beautiful to see; he would always look to her for guidance if he was asked to do anything he looked at her and I’ll swear she nodded her head before he went ahead. He was not the brightest of dogs and nowhere near the IQ of Meg but he became totally integrated into our family, we loved him and he loved us. So it came as quite a shock when the breeder asked for him for a few days to service her bitch.

William returned to us still a happy dog with a very unhappy breeder; it appears no matter what she did, nothing happened; whilst he was eager to play with the bitch, he just hadn’t a clue what he was there for and so all the past champions in his lineage were as nought. Eventually the breeder became so frustrated with him she ended the contract and we became his owners. Bless his misogynistic leanings!

Meg my first Newfoundland

 

I am writing a book about life with my Newfoundland dogs, I had four of them two and two it will be all in the book but I thought that a bit of background and tribute to my first and only bitch could be interesting. She was almost a rescue puppy when I got her; previously looked after as many dogs are by people who hadn’t taken the trouble to learn about them. I don’t know their reason for getting her in the first place but I bet it was an emotional decision taken because she looked cute or recommended by a friend. Sadly their ignorance rather than cruelty would affect the rest of her life and mine.

At the time she arrived I didn’t have to work, we lived in a rural community and at the end of a very quiet lane. In fact a pretty good place for Meg and I to get to know each other. From the start she seemed to know that this was her home and that she was amongst friends. With my husband Mike out at work all day, we could, and did, spend all day together. It may sound odd but I would talk to her all the time not as mistress to dog but as if she were another adult human being. The strangest thing is that she gradually learnt to sit and listen and I believe take an interest in what I was saying at least she always looked attentive. We used to play games together round the house or she would go swimming in the local stream with me on the bank encouraging her or go for short walks. We didn’t need a lead or collar as she would always stay close to me and as time went on I had a strong feeling that she was taking responsibility for me,

After a few months I no longer viewed Meg as a dog she became a friend, now not only did I talk to her but I believe she used to answer. Not verbally of course but in my mind I knew what she was thinking simple things like “this is fun, what’s this? I’m tired, let’s go for a swim, I love you etc” it was more than just her behaviour that told me, I knew. We became inseparable and did virtually everything together. Later when I was given a second Newfoundland puppy a Landseer dog she helped me bring him up and train him, she would box his ears if she felt he was misbehaving, in fact he was more in awe of her than me. I should mention that she also mothered him from his arrival and in many ways looked after him. But to me she was always working with me as a partner in his education not as another dog.

Meg was very special, with no other dog have I ever had the understanding that we shared. Later I started my own business and didn’t have as much time to spend with the next generation of Newfoundland pets. Who knows it might have happened again but somehow I doubt it.

Tedder the timorous

When we returned from Germany, and finally out of the Air Force, Andy was still alive much subdued and better trained by my father in law He was getting an old dog and it was getting increasingly difficult for him to walk. He had a cancer growth in his back leg, and when it got too bad for him to go on we said goodbye to our old friend.

It was a time of much turmoil having left the Air Force we were staying with my in laws in a small bungalow, looking for a job, looking for a house with a young daughter and no dog. It seemed horrendous at the time but within a few months we had sorted ourselves out and had a house of our own, a job, and a daughter in school. It was time to look for a dog. Mike had found a job in Yorkshire and one of the staff there knew of a litter of puppies, after a minimum of discussion we arranged to see them. They were German Shepherds twelve weeks old and of the litter only two were still unsold, both dogs. We had really wanted a bitch as they are generally more affectionate but one of these pups took a fancy to Mike’s shoelaces and wouldn’t leave them alone. I know it’s an odd way to choose a dog but we paid for him, he came home with us and joined the family.

Tedder at the time was about six inches tall a furry little puppy but definitely had a German Shepherd look about him. Now the breed has had a bad image, usually shown as guard dogs, police dog, quelling rioters and that sort of thing. My mother was much influenced by this reputation, so when we took Tedder to meet her we wondered what would happen. As she opened her door to us this little midget of a dog stood on the threshold with one ear up and the other down, he barked at her. She moved back a pace saying “He’s vicious” I doubt that Tedder at the time could have opened his mouth wide enough to bite her big toe then. Later they became good friends and she would accidentally on purpose drop a slice of meat on the floor when she was carving the joint. This was later questioned in his mind when a pickled onion fell off the working top and he swallowed it, the taste was not what he expected.

Tedder was a very gentle dog, always eager to avoid a fight and other dogs. At one time he cut his side rather badly, it had to be stitched and it was rather tightly done. When the stitches were out, it left him walking with an exaggerated swing to his bottom, this together with his gentle nature made him seem effeminate, much to our initial amusement. But he was lovely and loving dog with one exception.

Mike was away in Saudi Arabia and I took to having Tedder in the bedroom with me at night but not on the bed you understand. One night I heard a bump which woke me, assuming it was the dog I shouted at him to lie down and went back to sleep. In the morning I found that the house had been broken into. The intruder had been disturbed by my shout and left without leaving too much of a mess. Tedder had slept through the event but when the police arrived he refused to let them in. In fact I had to lock him in the kitchen so they could come in to talk to me. As they said “He should have done that last night”

A little later on I went to join Mike in Saudi and Tedder went to stay with my long suffering in laws. I believe he was happy with them unfortunately he died before our return.