Ninety-nine Newfies

The table had been cleared and the dishes washed. I was about to leave the kitchen when I heard panicked peeping just outside the back door. Since our fifteen hens with their many baby chicks spend most spring days roaming between the house and the barn, I am accustomed to "chicky chatter." However, the frantic pitch of this particular sound sent me scurrying to find its source.

I opened the door to find Brittania, our first and oldest Newf, sitting on the porch looking immensely proud of herself. Wobbling unsteadily at her feet, a tiny, wet, baby chick cried plaintively.

Since the Newfs are trained not to touch the chickens, I was exceedingly displeased with this development. Scolding Brittania soundly for picking up the chick and bringing it to the back door, I grabbed the terrified little creature and ran toward the barn in an effort to reunite it with its mother.

On the way I passed the children's wading pool from which the geese, the dogs, and sometimes the hens, all drink. Then I stopped short! More frantic peeping noises? What was going on here?

Inside the pool, struggling for their lives, were two additional baby chicks. Feverishly, they were trying and miserably failing to climb the eight-inch sides of the pool. They were exhausted and saturated with water. They could not have survived much longer.

I fished the chicks out of the pool, gently tried to dry them, and finally returned them to their mother, simultaneously humbly apologizing to ten-year-old Brittania as she monitored every step of the proceedings. I think she understood, as she is wise.

I call this a small, but symbolic, water rescue. This Newf's inherent instinct to save the drowning chicks overcame her training to leave them alone. But, as I already said, Brittania is wise. And, to me, she is clearly a heroine.

Suzanne Bidwell
Martingrove Newfoundlands
Shawnee, Kansas, USA

***

Baby Ben

In doing my research prior to purchasing our first Newfoundland, I had read much about the Newf lifesaving instinct. However, I imagined that this instinct developed over time and would only be exhibited in adult dogs. Since our Ben is only four months old, I wasn't expecting to see any evidence of the lifesaving instinct for awhile. Yet, today I was privileged to witness its emergence in my very own puppy!

I was getting my one-year-old son's bath ready. I tossed his tub toys into the empty bathtub, started the water, and went to get him undressed. Ben, always at the center of any family activity, was lumbering about in the area.

Just as I began undressing my son, the sound of Ben's loud barking came from the bathroom. This in itself was unusual because he is normally quiet and soft-spoken inside the house. However, the tone of his bark was even more unusual. Something of a cross between panic and urgency, it was different from any sound I had ever heard him make.

Extremely alarmed, I left my son and rushed back to the bathroom to see what had happened. As I ran into the room calling his name and asking what was wrong, I found him bouncing about at the side of the tub, his eyes never leaving the water.

By now his barking had reached a frenzied pitch. He seemed almost frantic. I looked over the rim of the tub and gasped in disbelief. There, floating face-down in the water, swirling lazily in the foam, was my son's large, lifelike doll.

Evidently Ben thought she was a real baby. Had she been, she would most definitely have been in need of rescue!

Immediately I pulled the "drowning victim" from the water. Ben stopped barking and began a thorough inspection of the doll. After carefully licking her face and sniffing her, he relaxed and seemed satisfied that she was all right. He may even have been a little surprised or embarrassed to see that she was only a toy.

Perhaps you think Ben is not so clever after all, since his victim was only a doll. But I was dazzled by his valiant rescue. Even though the doll was not a drowning infant, the incident taught us both a valuable lesson. I learned how Ben sounds when he calls for help. He learned that I will respond to his call. Thus we initiated a bond of trust that will grow ever stronger.

Ben and I are destined to do great water rescue training together. I am very proud of my "lifesaving" pup.

Rose Lamarre
Fall River, Massachusetts, USA

***

The Newf and the Masseuse

Lord Byron has a new occupation! He has become a masseur! Of all the skills he has learned during the year he's been a member of our family, this one may become my personal favorite. What a fine contribution to my well-being he can make with this recently discovered vocation!

His therapeutic talents first blossomed late this evening. My back had been acting up a little and my daughter, Cassie, graciously offered to give me a back massage with my small wooden massager.

I lay down and she began her soothing treatment. Lord Byron, always available and anxious to participate in entertaining family activities, came in to see what he might be missing. The three-legged "spider massager" Cassie was moving across my back immediately got his attention. Aha! An intriguing, new, just-gotta-have-it toy!

He jumped on the bed and began pursuing the massager. As Cassie continued rubbing my back he followed her hand, attempting to capture the alluring plaything in his mouth. The excitement of the chase increased his already high-volume exhalations, thus adding some wonderful moist heat to the massage.

When the mouth method of securing the massager failed, he tried to nab it with his paw. However, despite his heroic efforts, he was always one strike behind Cassie as she moved her hand from point to point. His paw would whack my back just as she slid the massager away. In this way, he provided firm, invigorating, pat-pat-pat follow-up strokes to her rubdown.

Still determined to ensnare the massager, Lord Byron's next attempt was his most creative. He simply flopped his 145 pounds down on top of it! By draping his massive body over Cassie's hand and across my back, he successfully captured the prize!

Lord Byron's enormous puppy grin showed how delighted he was with his victory. I, too, was delighted with this solution. His big, hairy body gave the muscle-relaxing effect of a weighted, vibrating, warm blanket. Even after Cassie managed to wriggle her hand out from under him, he remained sprawled across my back for several minutes. This provided the perfect, peaceful ending to an unusually lively massage.

Afterward, I felt remarkably rejuvenated. Not only were the muscles of my back warm and relaxed, the muscles of my face had had a great workout as well. Laughter, after all, is said to be the best medicine, and Lord Byron had provided that in abundance.

Now I'm wondering about two things: first, can I get a repeat performance of this on a daily basis? And, second, how much can I charge clients for this newf form of physical therapy?

Camille D. Mercurio
Babylon, New York, USA