After nearly thirteen years of faithful friendship, it became necessary to have Waldo put to sleep on March 13, 1997. I grieve for the loss of his companionship, but I know that we will meet again. If there is a reason for anything, then there is a reason for the relationships that matter.
I first saw Waldo when he was three days old. He looked like a damp guinea pig. By the time I brought him home at seven and a half weeks he weighed eighteen pounds and looked like a plush teddy bear. The bear aspect remained for the rest of his life. As an adolescent he did get a bit gangly, but then so do bears. Waldo was five months younger than my daughter but was soon much larger and took over the role of babysitter. He patiently and lovingly put up with all the indignities offered by a baby and a toddler. Abby learned to walk with her arm around Waldo's neck.
Always gentle, he was big enough (140 lbs.) that interposing himself between family members and perceived dangers was sufficient to protect us. He wouldn't let Abby anywhere near the street. Having seen his massive head in the window and having heard his deep and thunderous bark, no burglar would think of invading his territory.
Waldo loved the outdoors. The worse the weather (to mere humans) the more he liked it. He loved being out in the rain and wind. Most of all he loved being out in the snow or going swimming. There is nothing like a wet Newf, at least nothing that you would want to have inside your house. Only kidding. A bit of wet dog smell, a little drool, and giant footprints on the floor were an insignificant price to pay for having such wonderful company.
This page last changed
05/10/2002