Somehow, Lauren and I came to the conclusion that driving two giant dogs, two kids and ourselves almost 400 miles to visit my mother in New Hampshire was a good idea. My mother only knew of Annie through pictures and from the tales spun here in this very blog. As you might imagine, she was a bit nervous about the whole thing, but from my point of view, she had the easy job. She didn’t have to share a vehicle with three hundred pounds of dog, a family of four and all the luggage required for their seven day adventure. read more »

Annie is an affectionate dog, and by affectionate, I mean a pain in the ass.  Annie loves everyone. If you sit down, she will run up to you with her tail a-waggin’ then jam her head into your lap, looking up at you with those big brown why aren’t you petting me? eyes. Of course the eyes are just a distraction from the dripping wet drool-laden lips that just soaked your pants, but that’s all part of the game. You see, in the language of Newfoundland dogs, drool = love.

If, after a reasonably long time—say, one-third of a second—you haven’t begun to pet her, she will then take her pointy nose, jam it under your arm and flip your hand up on top of her head where it belongs. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll commence with the petting, or it will just get worse. Actually that’s not true; it always gets worse. read more »

Annie hates the vacuum. She’s not like normal dogs, who dislike the sound of the vacuum. Oh no, our Annie couldn’t be so pedestrian. She isn’t even bothered by the sound of rolling thunder from the machine like so many other dogs. If you accidentally bump her with it while vacuuming, then she’ll leap up in surprise and go somewhere else, but that almost never happens. I suspect it almost never happens because I almost never vacuum, but that’s just a theory I’m working on. To date, there has been no conclusive evidence proving my involvement in Annie’s vacuum cleaner-related behaviors. read more »

Our house is loaded with stuff. I like stuff, the kids like stuff, we all like stuff. This love of stuff has lead to a house filled with trinkets, toys, and other shiny items that we couldn’t resist. Every so often we purge some of the stuff, but no matter how often we do this, we seem to continuously find more stuff.

I blame myself, since I am the chief hoarder of stuff. From guitars to fountain pens to computers to Lego kits, I have some pretty fine stuff. Really though, when it comes right down to it, it’s all just stuff. That’s how Annie sees it all, I’m sure. Maybe she has different categories for our stuff. Perhaps Tasty, crunchy, soft and pointy might be some of her descriptions for our stuff. Maybe she sorts it by smell instead. In any event, she doesn’t seem to understand that it’s not all her stuff. read more »

Annie is a destroyer of toys. She has been known to tear the heart out of stuffed toys, pull the squeaker out of rubber toys, and has even destroyed a soccer ball or two. Annie isn’t a keepsake-toy kind of dog like Cozy was. Cozy loved her Kong more than life itself, and we have hundreds of pictures to prove it. Annie has no special toy like that, but prefers to play with whatever is at hand – preferably something that she shouldn’t have.

There is one toy that she hasn’t destroyed, and her apparent respect for the toy fascinates me. The toy in question has been given the clever name of The Dog Catcher Man. Why? Because it’s shaped like a little man and has the word “Dogcatcher” on the front. I told you it was a clever name.

The Dog Catcher Man is a rubber squeaky toy like you’d find in any pet shop. It’s not a robust toy, and it is no way special except that it was purchased some thirteen years ago. Why do we have a 13 year old dog toy? This toy is special; this was Cozy’s toy. read more »