Bob M
New member
The heartbreaking news arrived this week that another one of Abbie's pups is gone.
Tug-- the playful black male we called "Robin" during his first few weeks of life-- passed away less than a month after his brown brother Kona. As in Kona's case, it was sudden and unexpected: seemingly healthy and lively right up to the weekend, he displayed symptoms of breathing difficulty, and a visit to the vet revealed advanced cancer. His condition deteriorated rapidly, and he was put to sleep Wednesday evening, surrounded by a very loving family.
Tug's life was far too short-- the puppies' seventh birthday won't even arrive until later this month-- but it was one that any dog would envy. He lived in a farm setting, with several other dogs for company, horses to supervise, and trees that dropped actual food on the ground. (I'm told he was picky, and waited until the apples were ripe.) He could wander freely and safely, and even had a pond where he liked to hunt for frogs and get muddy. He had a sled to pull in the winter, and there was a granddaughter just the right size to ride in it.
His family adored him; his mom once wrote to me, expressing feelings most Newf people would recognize but few of us could put so well, "Tug is important to us, what he thinks about, what he does, what he loves, etc. He is one of the most thoughtful and reasoned beings that I have ever known. He is not a pet or companion animal, he is our family... We love him beyond all reason."
With this, only four of Abbie's litter are left. It's going to be a bittersweet Thanksgiving for us this year: the realization that so many are gone in such a short time is like a punch in the gut; yet I know it's so much worse for the families with Newf-sized holes in their hearts. My consolation, at least, is that I know that Sawyer, Wallace, Sophie, Kona, and Tug lived lives filled with happiness and love.
Tug-- the playful black male we called "Robin" during his first few weeks of life-- passed away less than a month after his brown brother Kona. As in Kona's case, it was sudden and unexpected: seemingly healthy and lively right up to the weekend, he displayed symptoms of breathing difficulty, and a visit to the vet revealed advanced cancer. His condition deteriorated rapidly, and he was put to sleep Wednesday evening, surrounded by a very loving family.
Tug's life was far too short-- the puppies' seventh birthday won't even arrive until later this month-- but it was one that any dog would envy. He lived in a farm setting, with several other dogs for company, horses to supervise, and trees that dropped actual food on the ground. (I'm told he was picky, and waited until the apples were ripe.) He could wander freely and safely, and even had a pond where he liked to hunt for frogs and get muddy. He had a sled to pull in the winter, and there was a granddaughter just the right size to ride in it.
His family adored him; his mom once wrote to me, expressing feelings most Newf people would recognize but few of us could put so well, "Tug is important to us, what he thinks about, what he does, what he loves, etc. He is one of the most thoughtful and reasoned beings that I have ever known. He is not a pet or companion animal, he is our family... We love him beyond all reason."
With this, only four of Abbie's litter are left. It's going to be a bittersweet Thanksgiving for us this year: the realization that so many are gone in such a short time is like a punch in the gut; yet I know it's so much worse for the families with Newf-sized holes in their hearts. My consolation, at least, is that I know that Sawyer, Wallace, Sophie, Kona, and Tug lived lives filled with happiness and love.
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I'm sorry...
