Present-day stories of those wonderful Newfs - reprinted from Newf Tide 3rd Quarter 2011
In 2006 I ran into Anita Reinisch (Lifeguard Newfoundlands) at two different dog shows. On each occasion, she told me about this young male of hers that she thought that I should take on as a new obedience dog.
I wasn’t interested in getting another dog at the time. I was busy showing Hudson in obedience and rally and trying to qualify for the Top Twenty. I appreciated the offer, but said no thanks—twice.
In 2007, Hudson and I were at the National in Boulder and so were Anita and Joe Reinisch. Anita never let up on me that week, insisting that she was sure Franky would be a good dog for me. I finally surrendered and agreed to take him on a one month trial basis to determine if he had what I was looking for, and most importantly, that he would fit in with my three other dogs. After two weeks it was a done deal. He had a new home and a career.
In November of 2009, Frank and I were invited to the first west coast certification for TDI Disaster Stress Relief Dog (DSRD) teams. DSRD teams were requested to be brought to the family grief assistance centers and to help relieve the stress suffered by emergency workers at Ground Zero,Oklahoma, and during Katrina.
As handlers, we were required to complete the FEMA and NIMS courses, and although the individual Certification tests were not known in advance, we were advised that testing requirements would be very stringent. The temperament of the dog had to be outstanding, they had to be in good physical condition, and they would be required to handle all kinds of situations without prior experience.
The trust and there-for-you relationship that we developed during the certification process made this the most rewarding and emotional accomplishment I have ever experienced with one of my dogs, and after Frank and I came back from the DSR test, our bond had so deepened and changed that we literally became joined at the hip.
Traditionally, the Newfs have the run of the house with only the bedrooms being off-limits as no-drool zones. But for Frank, the old rule was changed. He now slept next to my bed, never stirring through my many slaps at the snooze alarm in the morning, or demanding I get up to feed or let him out.
That said, I sleep through anything, including the six fire engines with blaring sirens that arrived when the house across the street burned down and the high-speed police chase on New Year’s that crashed through my fence, barely missing the house.
But on a March night in 2010, I was shaken out of a sound sleep by a feeling of intense pressure against my eyes and pain like I was being punched in the face. At first thinking I was dreaming, then becoming aware it was really happening, I hazily realized that it was Frank doing this to me. I sternly told him to go away, and drifted off.
He became more persistent and demanding and was getting rougher, which sort of snapped me into awareness that he wouldn’t do this to me unless he was sick and had to get out. Irritably, I started to get out of bed, but when I went to stand up, I was so dizzy and uncoordinated I almost fell on my face.
My head was pounding, and I could barely breathe or swallow. I put one hand on Frank’s neck for balance as I made my way out of the bedroom. I began to realize that the reason I felt so sick was because the house was filled with gas, and my first thought was fear that if I turned on a light to find my way through the pitch-dark house, it might spark an explosion. We had to get out of there fast! I told Frank “let’s go” and he led me (and the other dogs) gagging and coughing through the house to the back door and outside into fresh air and safety.
Once the gas had been turned off and the house aired out, it was discovered that the source of the leak was a broken automatic shut-off valve on the stove that had allowed gas into the closed up house for 9-10 hours. Because of the cold, there hadn’t been even a cracked window open to allow the gas to escape. As well as the possibility that we could have been asphyxiated, I was told that it was a miracle that the roof hadn’t blown off due to the built up gas for that many hours.
Frank was a nominee for the 2010 AKC ACE Awards in the Exemplary Companion Category. Needless to say, he will always be the winner of that category in my heart.
Sherry Davis
Mississippi-Missouri Daily Life, RN, CGC, TDIA, DSRD, THD
Editor’s note: Frank is the first Newfoundland to be awarded the AKC Therapy Dog title (THD). To earn this title, a dog must be AKC registered/listed, certified/registered by an AKC recognized therapy dog organization, and perform a minimum of 50 therapy visits.