Support "Safe Haven" Newfoundland Rescue

The "Safe Haven" project, the brain-child of Newfie-lover extradionaire Alexander Bridge, provides funding for Newfoundland dog rescue across North America. Safe Haven is committed to the safety and well-being of rescued Newfoundlands in helping them find new homes. Some Newfoundlands, through no fault of their own, sometimes become the innocent victims when they can no longer be provided for by an owner, or are caught up in a family relocation, a divorce, or even abuse.
Safe Haven raises money by recycling donated sails and making them into a variety of goods -- all the profits go to Newfie rescue groups. Attached is the Summer-Fall 2007 edition of the Safe Haven Log, with contact information for Alexander and Lowrie Sargent.

Alexander has published several works on the Gentle Giants. His flagship work is entitled "Safe Haven":

"Give me a loving family
To share my life
A warm bed
And many hugs.

Give me fellowship
With others
And a place where I can run.

Give me this,
And in return
I will give to you
Unquestioned love.

For you have given me
The true gift of life . . .
A Safe Haven"

(Alexander Bridge)

Please do what you can to support the noble efforts of Safe Haven, keeping in mind that its goal, first and foremost, is the well-being of the Gentle Giants, who give us so much joy and ask for so little.

Scolded, Part II

No beach.
No park.
No one can hear me bark.
Sadly I am banished into the desert dark.
Being and nothingness, my plight is stark.

Oh how lonely are the brave.

Sigh,
Satchie

Scolded (In The Dog House)

Well, I'm really in the dog-house today.

Ya see, Andrew and I were at a park earlier and were wrestling around and, I got kinda excited and ran over to another doggie (sort of a small one) and, barreled over the little guy.

Dad went absolutely bonkers on me -- I've never witnessed such a tongue-lashing.
So we got dragged into the car and put in the scoldy area out on the deck. (I just snuck out to type this -- why don't they make these keyboards in Newfie size? Hello, Mr. Gates, you're Jobbing us.) All Dad does is look at us with disgust and tell us we may not get dinner (it's already past dinner time!!!!).

He says there is absolutely no defense to a Newfie not being a Gentle Giant. As one famous accused said, "I deny the allegation and I deny the allegator". It's not working. I have to show remorse (how the heck do ya do that?).
He even said that if I ever did this again, he'd send me to "boot camp". What ever happened to three strikes? Then, he made me turn my head to take this picture. He said I dare not look into the camera and that this was part of the punishment. Egads! Just look at me. Pathetic.

I am cursed by my own breed standard. I didn't mean to hurt the little guy and he didn't get hurt but His Honor is adamant that it doesn't matter.
We may not even to be able to get out this weekend. Grounded???? Please!
Okay, okay, I did wrong but need some help from 'yall. Please, please, please send in some comments. I need character witnesses to avoid a full two-day scolding.
Really, I'm rehabilitated -- it only took a few hours. I'm beggin ya, tell Dad I should be forgiven. I think he's serious. C'mon guys -- Hummer, Axl, Preston, Chester, Gizzie, Rebus, Nanook, Pooka -- tell Dad I should have my sentence commuted.

Sincerely,

Satchie (Scooter) Newfie

What Is A Newfie? (Chapter II)

I just can't seem to leave well enough alone.
But I'll spare ya my editorializing this time and just let the pictures do the talkin.
This is a Newfie doing his thang. Practicing to save 'yall should ya git stuck in them there waters.
Oh, me?? No, no no. That's Big Jack.
As you can harken from the final picture, I was just lyin back catching some sun, ready to assist (NOT!) cuz a Newfie's work is never done.











Giddie up pardner.

What Is A Newfie?

Phew, what a day.
Dad really scolded me and 'Drew(get it, Andrew) for "wussing out" by not going into the big waves. Okay, Newfies are water rescue dogs but, as I've said, this is an organic kind of thing, and as we progress it becomes an option not a obligation. Dad says I'm full of something I can't repeat. He hasn't even fed us supper yet. And no really harsh words for Andrew! "Discrimination" I say!

Anyway, my buddy, Gizmo, looks just like me but I'm weighing in around 150 and he's a wopping 175. (Mrs. P says I have to lose weight and you can't mess with her -- sigh.) That's a big, beautiful boy. And do we ever look alike. Take a look at Gizzy at just 3 months and a baby picture of me -- pretty close, eh? He lives in Canada and I live in California. We're gonna hook up soon though.

Okay, to get to today's point (besides a scolding and no dinner yet -- I'll bet Big Paris is eating steak and Kiwi pie): as Lord B said of Newfies - we possess "beauty without vanity, strength without insolence, courage without ferocity and all the virtues of Man without his vices." (Don't get on my case, I'm just repeating what he said.) Goodness!

Perfect case in point is Gizzie's video: he sees daddy (Doug) filming him and being a playful lad, leaps with joy at the videographer (who says them can film us anyway?). His dad goes down on the ground and Gizzy proceeds to lick the poor battered guy. (He doesn't know how big and strong he is!) Then he simply sits down waiting for the next adventure. (Momma Cindy will take care of that.) No big deal to him. No harm done. (I'm going to do this next chance if cheapskate buys one of these things.) So that's it in a nutshell. All we wanna do is be with our family and have some fun. Have I made my point? Okay, one more time (repeat after me): strength without insolence! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fbWxak6hchw. Freaking hilarious. I could watch it all day.

Gizzie makes me proud to be a Newfie, even though I'm being sent to my room for allegedly being a "water wuss". Sounds defamatory to me. Anyone know a good lawyer? Hello Jill!!!! Get back to me.

Love, Satchie

My Life As A Dog, Part I

Well, I'm not 100% in love with my weekend. First, Dad won't let us go to the beach because Andrew is allergic to something. Then, when I stare at him, he says "Satchie, you're allergic to swimming so don't give me any attitude!" Humans! So my love for the beach is relegated to a stupid pond. Just look at me and Andrew in this Dog-forsaken wading pool. "Ridiculous" I say.
Then, to add insult to insult, on Sunday we get to go for a nice hot car ride up to the kennels. Great. A not so subtle reminder of chilhood angst. Then I go to see Momma Lisa (my real Mom in the picture -- just look!) and all she does is bark at Dad. He tries to reason with her without success. "Winners Bitch" indeed! Probably why my real Pappy, Phantom (yes, look at the sort-of picture) went back to the U.K.

What happens next? We go up to Parker's Landing and the really big boy, Paris, beats me up. No backup at all from Andrew. (I worry he's getting wise.)

Okay, there is some good news in all of this. You see, people are always asking Dad, "How big will he get" and "how small are they when they're born" and other such nonsense. I mean, really, we don't ask these questions of their children. Can you just imagine me walking up to a stroller and saying, "Hey there, cute kid, what breed is he?" "Does he bite?" "How much does he eat a day?" "You must have a big car?" "Does he shed his skin alot?" "Can I pet him?" Er, sorry, I lost my head there for a minute.

Anyway, Momma had another baby and they sort of named him after James, or James Jr. In any event, they're calling him "JJ" and he's disgustingly cute. Aunt Heidi even carries him around in a little crib. (I get yanked around on a leash.) Dad got that look in his eyes like he wants him, so I've had to be on good behavior and cut out the guilt thing for a few days. "Sometimes it's hard to be a Newfie."

So a big drool-laden welcome to JJ. In a few weeks we'll get him his first bib. And, by the way, to answer one of the zillion most frequently asked questions, this is what a one-week old Newfie looks like. (Dad could use a photo class.) Just too dang cute for words, which is what I'm always saying 'bout myself. Gotta scoot, he heard me. Love, Satchie.

I Miss You Jack

I had a dream last night.
I dreamt he was by my side.
To walk along with my Daddy.
My heart was filled with pride.

I pray he looks over me.
I pray as the prayer claims,
he will be there to shepard me.

I love you Big Jack.
I miss you so everyday.
I pray you are the wind at my side.
I pray you are still with me.

Rest in peace my beloved.
Rest your working bones.
Now I must be the father.
Even when I feel so alone.

* * * * *

A Newfound Prayer
(Patti Smith)

"Child with heart so raven wild
I have known you well
I have guarded you in sleep
and with the morning bell
we would tramp the blessed field
ramble through the pine
all my loyalty was yours
all your joys were mine

We would camp upon the bank
to watch the sails that sped
I would offer you my back
to rest your dreaming head
all of our adventures
in existence but a sigh
moccasins as silent
as arrows in the sky

In nature is a song
that from the spirit flows
from the wild I came
to the wild I will go
and grant I meet you there
when time will turn to air
to shepherd you in heaven
this is my newfound prayer."

Of Youth And Insolence

Hi Kids!

Today, I set out to show Andrew just who the alpha-dog is. We went to a local park that has an inlet into the Bay. I let him do his swimmin-thing because I knew afterwards there would be a wrestling match and I would prevail. So here we go with the face-off. Beauty shall prevail over youth.

Vincero! Vincero!!!! Vinceroooooooooooooo!!!!!! (Name that tune!)

Okay, he's young and makes the first move. With Federer-like agility, I move to a defensive position, knowing that he will wear himself out soon.

Then, as if by force of lightening, the young one leaps up and away and begins his trash talk. He knows that if he dares come near me, I will pummel him like a lion upon its prey.

I continue to pelt him with jabs, pounding my face against the onslaught of his paws. Oh, what arrogance does the young lad possess.

Like Ali against Foreman, I use my Rope-A-Dope technique to wear the young Newf out and evenually move in for the kill. Little does he know what is in store.

Wha, wha, what is this? Dad declares Andrew the winner? Infidels. Don't I have any challenges left? "Conspiracy" I declare. But the human is unquestionably biased, calls me a "poor sport" and then chastises me with the bib. "Big Time Drooler"? The human has no idea of my capabilities!

Fortunately, with age comes wisdom. For now, Andrew can cherish his ill-gotten gain. Tomorrow is another day and he will get his, as tainted judge will be off to work and fairness shall prevail. Until then!

The Big Chase

Been away a few days but back to report a new modeling deal with blackjaxsports for their very cool glow in the dark type frisbee. (No deal yet on the shades.) All the other boys and girls at the beach think it's quite the deal.
Now don't get me wrong; I don't like chasing things and I don't like things chasing me. Dad is constantly yelling "Satchie, get the ball", "Satchie, get the stick" and on and on and on. He's always throwing them in the water and while I don't mind (too much) going into the pond or stream, no way am I going into the ocean. Why can't he get it himself when he throws it in the water???? Humans!
Anyway, I understand alot of you like to fetch and this is the toy for it. On a scale of 1 to 5, it gets 5 Scooby Snacks. Even Andrew likes to go flailing out there but most of the time (doofus that he is) he never sees what Dad throws or where it goes, so he ends up swimming around in circles. But he's still young and has time to learn. He's just too darn sweet and that just puts extra pressure on me as Dad says I'm attitudingly-impaired. Whatever.
What I've learned is that going into the water means getting a full bath and blow drying and all that for a couple of hours. Fuuuuuuurget about it! My gig is playing on the beach and stealing the toys of the others just as they come out of the water -- Big Jack always let me take his treasures. Oh boy, now I'm getting sad. Time to go beat up on Andrew. A big shout out to Hummer - bring home the bacon buddy, I love bacon!

Satchie

Of Dogs and Men

Today (at least before going to the beach), I must defend a friend, Nanook, and his baby brother, Pooka, from someone who criticized their blog. Seems that not a day goes by where us dogs are not looked at or commented upon with some disdain. I can't put it better, much less as well, as Eugene O'Neill, so here is what he had to say on the subject of dogs and men:

"Dogs are wiser than men
They do not set great store upon things
They do not waste their days hoarding property
They do not ruin their sleep worrying about how to
keep the objects they have and obtain the objects they have not
There is nothing of value they have to bequeath
except their love and their faith."


Satchie

Don't Take Away My Beach

Okay, I'm not a political animal but right now I'm mad as a rabid boar.
The only place I can swim (forget that stuff I've said about being a water wuss) is in the Golden Gate National Recreation Area. They have all the beaches around here and it's always been off leash. Then, in 2002, they illegally imposed a leash law, actually telling us Newfs (and Labs and Goldens and Chessies, etc.) that we could not swim within the first 300 feet unless we were on a leash. Please, talk about a recipe for drowning.
Dad and some others fought them in court and won. But now they're up to no good again trying to take away my right (but not obligation) to eventually be a WRD. The GGNRA just has to go. Where, I don't care but not here. I swore to Big Jack I would not let them do this again. If a Newfie can't go to the beach and romp, then I'm heading back to Canada.

And while I'm on the subject of anti-doggers, a couple of times the Rangers have said to Dad, "it's just a dog" and other such nonsense. For them and those who think like them, I offer the following:


"Just a Dog"
(by Richard Biby)

People have said to me from time to time things like "lighten up,
it's just a dog" or "that's a lot of money for just a dog." They
say to me they don't understand the distance traveled, the time
spent, or the costs involved for "just a dog". Some of my proudest
moments have come about with "just a dog". Many hours have passed
and the only company I had was "just a dog", but I did not once feel
slighted. Some of my saddest moments have been brought about by
"just a dog", and in those days of darkness, the gentle touch of
"just a dog" gave me comfort and reason to overcome the day.
For those of you who do not understand the whys and wherefores of
"just a dog", then you will probably understand phrases like "just a
friend", "just a sunrise", or "just a promise".
"Just a dog" brings into my life the very essence of friendship,
trust, and pure unbridled joy. "Just a dog" brings out in me the
compassion and patience that make me a better person. Because of
"just a dog", I will rise early, take long walks, and look longingly
to the future. So for me and folks like me, it's not "just a dog"
-- but an embodiment of all the hopes and dreams of the future, the
fond memories of the past, and the pure joy of the moment. "Just a
dog" brings out what's good in me and diverts my thoughts away from
myself and the worries of the day.
I hope that someday they can understand that it's not "just a dog"
-- but the thing that gives me humanity and keeps me from being
"just a man". So, the next time you hear the phrase, "just a dog",
just smile, because they "just don't understand".
Just a thought."


'Nuff said on the subject. I'm a bleeding Newfie for Dogs' Sake. I'm only here to help and look cute and bring joy to mankind and dogkind. Why can't we all just get along? And if not, we were here first. Indeed, the first dog indigeneous to North America. We served our Native American friends well and they were good to us. And goodness, where would Lewis & Clark have ended up if it hadn't been for "Seaman"???

Okay, okay, I said I was done with this. Big congrat to Gizzie -- he's a water maniac. And lots of love to Nanook and Pooka. Finally, all my love to the Karazans who are my family, my friends and my love.

Andrew's snoring (again) so it's time to give him a lick and catch a few winks.