You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘Newfoundland’ tag.
Owning a dog means voluntarily setting yourself up for heartbreak. I mean that in the best possible way.
Kodiak is getting older. He’s nearly eight and a half. While he still has the energy of a puppy most of the time, he’s slowed down over the years; added a little more gray hairs to his chin. (The kids might have contributed to that a bit.) By all accounts, he is a healthy guy, but lately thoughts of the inevitable have been creeping into my head, and as much as a try to push them away, I can’t help but think about it.
People with children tend to roll their eyes at people who have no kids, but have a dog. You know the kind — the dog is their baby. Spoiled rotten, taken everywhere, talked about — and to — as if they could talk back. Jeez, those people, right?
Only, we were those people. Kodiak literally was the first baby and we treated him as such. While we swore it wouldn’t happen — as dog owners with kids do — the life he knew changed drastically once the babies came. Suddenly he had to wait, was underfoot, was no longer the center of attention. To his credit, Kodiak took it all in stride. He adapted to his new job as Fur Brother and loves those babies like they were his own pups.
But I know it’s not the same.
I spend a lot of the day shooing him out of the way of a crawling baby, or getting annoyed that he’s begging for food, or wanting to scream because there’s dog hair on the floor AGAIN. None of these things are his fault, but it’s easy to snap at him when life gets stressful. He won’t snap back. He never has.
Lately, though, I’ve realized that in not too distant future, relatively speaking, he won’t be here to snap at. And I know then that the guilt that tugs at me now will be multiplied over and over again. If only I had paid more attention, took him on a few more walks, let him bask for a few moments in his title of First Baby. When the time to say goodbye comes, I want to feel like I did right by him.
I told Michael I want to have a Kodiak Day. A day where he gets to go to all the places he loves (the beach!), gets a special meal just for him (cheeseburgers!). I know it sounds silly, but I want to do that for him.
This all sounds morbid, I know. We could have another 4+ years with him, and by god, I hope we do. And I’m going to try and use that time better than I have been. For him. For our Kodiak.
Somebody is six years old today…
“It’s me, guys! Kodiak! Remember me? I’ve been totally neglected lately on the blog since that kid came around, but today is MY day! I’m SIX!”
It’s true, he has been neglected. As much as we swore it would never happen, that he would always be our first, our Fur Baby. But as it turns out, Mr. O requires a lot of attention and Kodiak had to adjust. He still loved, of course. Oh my, is he loved. But he had to move into second place. And while he did so reluctantly, and often shoves himself into your face demanding, “Attention! Now!”, he actually has taken this big brother thing in stride.
The truth is, he’s a wonderful big brother. He gives kisses (“not in the face!”), and is first to get to Owen if his cries resemble anything other than your standard waaaah’s. He’s cautious if Owen is playing on the floor, and even tries to share his toys. And he’s super excited now that there is a high chair to lie under and potential sweet potato or pea mash to catch.
It’s been nearly five years since we adopted a loud and playful one-year old Newfoundland. Over time he has become more that just a dog to us; he is family. He may not get the 24/7 attention he once basked in, but you can bet that when Owen goes to bed, it’s Kodiak time, and he is reminded just how much we adore him.
I love this dog. This dog who may be six, but has the heart and attitude of a puppy. This dog who has a personality like I’ve never seen before in a an animal and will tell you exactly what he wants and when. “Dinner. Now, guys. Time to eat.”
Happy birthday, Kods Man. Here’s to many more!
I just can’t resist a Newfie nose.
In brief, I’ve been out of the house for the last two days, driving to and from Hartford, CT, which is about two hours from our house.
Kodiak started experiencing random bouts of very bad pain, where he yelps and cries and can’t lift his head or walk well. It will come on quickly, lasts the day, then disappears for weeks.
After countless vet visits and no solution, we called the doctor who preformed his surgeries in the past. He’s a great guy and the ONLY doctor we feel has listened to us so far about these symptoms.
Kodiak had to stay overnight (tell a pregnant woman she has to leave her “fur baby” overnight in Hartford and she will CRY) and had an MRI and a spinal tap yesterday morning to rule out scary things like cancers and tumors and meningitis. GAH.
On first glance, the MRI appeared clean, but we should know final results on Monday.
As always, as quickly as the pain comes on, it’s gone, and today my furry boy is happy and rambunctious as usual.
Well, slightly less furry. Because they SHAVED HIS HEAD.
And we didn’t know they were going to!
He wouldn’t let me get a straight-on photo, but now it looks like his ears are higher than his head. SO WEIRD.
So yes, that’s where I’ve been. With Mr. Kodiak and the weirdo hair do. Please think good thoughts and send love to our (slightly less) fluffy boy!