My boys
Some may remember that we had to say goodbye to our 12 yr-old Newfie, Jiggs, back at the end of May, due to cancer.
I was heartbroken, and I know most of you can relate to that.
A couple of months later I got a phone call from the vet asking if we could take in an approximately 1-yr-old newfie for the weekend, or a week at the longest.
Nearly 4 months later, we still have him. I'm a foster failure. Again.
Long story short, he's the product of a backyard breeder on one of the Indian reserves here. He's possibly inbred - a big problem here.
He was 'acquired' for a fellow's girlfriend. But she left him when the pup was but 4 months old, and the poor thing was left outside from then on in a very small area. No socialization. No training.
Somebody on the reserve noticed him lying down and he seemed to be distressed. They took him to the vet, left, and never came back. He had heat stroke, but luckily was taken to the vet in time.
Fast forward - he's now ours, officially.
He's a very, very scared dog, but he is making progress. Slowly. One good thing is that he's not showed any signs of aggression. In fact, he's starting to show a very loving side.
He's still not too sure about our other Newfie, Dinty. But hopefully with time, that will get sorted.
Here's our boy, Mungo.
This was taken after he'd been dematted, brushed, and bathed - quite a few times!
Two weeks ago, we had to say goodbye to another one of our boys, Rollie. He was 13. His body was plain tuckered out.
I've had to make the decision to say goodbye a number of times, but it never gets any easier.
Losing 2 of them in 6 months has been tough, and I miss them both heaps. Needless to say, there's been lots of tears.
Our boy Rollie. I really miss that smile.
And just so he doesn't feel left out, my little buddy Dinty. He's 11.