The Dog From Newfoundland

The Dog From Newfoundland

You will meet him as you go through life
And he’ll always lick your hand
You can count when you’re in trouble
On the dog from Newfoundland

When some folks talk about him
Telling jokes which aren’t too grand
You can tell that they are jealous
Of the dog from Newfoundland

From St. John’s to the Grand Banks
And all through this great land
You’ll never find another
Like the dog from Newfoundland

He’ll invite you in and treat you well
And when you drink his brand
He’ll tell you all the stories
Of good old Newfoundland

In Corner Brook or Marystown
When you’re dancing to a band
Just listen to the fiddler
He’s the dog from Newfoundland

Perhaps some day you’ll meet him
Then you will understand
Why he makes the world a better place
The dog from Newfoundland.

Karazan Newfoundlands Sweep Chief Solano Kennel Club Show

What a great Sunday!

I didn't have to go to the Chief Solano Kennel Club show in Vallejo. So 'Drew and I just got to be dogs and pounce on each other. How civilized!!

But the Karazan clan made a sweep of the show, with Jolie winning Best of Breed; Bristol winning Best Opposite Sex; and my litter mate (really) Zack, taking Winner's Dog. (Dad says that "Zack is really sweet" which implies that I am not and makes me want to bite him. Sigh, can't do it, I'm a Newfie.)

Congratulations to them and parents Christine, Meredith, and Dawn.


Satchie

No Charge For Love

NO CHARGE FOR LOVE

A farmer had some puppies he needed to sell.
He painted a sign advertising the 4 pups.
And set about nailing it to a post on the
edge of his yard. As he was driving the
last nail into the post, he felt a tug on
his overalls. He looked down into the
eyes of a little boy. "Mister", he said,
"I want to buy one of your puppies".
"Well", said the farmer, as he rubbed the
sweat of the back of his neck,
"these puppies come from fine parents and
cost a good deal of money."
The boy dropped his head for a moment.
Then reaching deep into his pocket,
he pulled out a handful of change and held
it up to the farmer. "I've got thirty-nine
cents. Is that enough to take a look?"
"Sure", said the farmer, and with that he
let out a whistle. "Here, Dolly!" he called.
Out from the doghouse and down the ramp ran
Dolly followed by four little balls of fur.
The little boy pressed his face against the
chain link fence. His eyes danced with
delight. As the dogs made their way to the
fence, the little boy noticed something else
stirring inside the doghouse. Slowly another
little ball appeared, this one noticeably
smaller. Down the ramp it slid. Then in a
somewhat awkward manner, the little pup
began hobbling toward the others, doing its
best to catch up.... "I want that one",
the little boy said, pointing to the runt.
The farmer knelt down at the boy's side and
said, "Son, you don't want that puppy.
He will never be able to run and play with
you like these other dogs would."
With that the little boy stepped back from the fence,
reached down, and began rolling up one leg
of his trousers. In doing so he revealed a
steel brace running down both sides
of his leg attaching itself to a specially
made shoe. Looking back up at the farmer,
he said, "You see sir, I don't run too well
myself, and he will need someone who
understands".
With tears in his eyes,
the farmer reached down and picked
up the little pup. Holding it carefully
he handed it to the little boy.
"How much?" asked the little boy.
"No charge", answered the farmer,
"There's no charge for love."

"Have You Read Your Byron?"

A question we must ask and answer everyday, lest we lose all sight of humanity.


"When some proud son of man returns to earth,
Unknown to glory, but upheld by birth,
The sculptor's art exhausts the pomp of woe,
And storied urns record who rest below.
When all is done, upon the tomb is seen,
Not what he was, but what he should have been.
But the poor dog, in life the firmest friend,
The first to welcome, foremost to defend,
Whose honest heart is still his master's own,
Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone,
Unhonour'd falls, unnoticed all his worth,
Denied in heaven the soul he held on earth.
While man, vain insect! hopes to be forgiven,
And claims himself a sole exclusive heaven.
Oh man! thou feeble tenant of an hour,
Debased by slavery, or corrupt by power,
Who knows thee well must quit thee with disgust,
Degraded mass of animated dust!
Thy love is lust, thy friendship all a cheat,
Thy smiles hypocrisy, thy words deceit!
By nature vile, ennobled but by name,
Each kindred brute might bid thee blush for shame.
Ye! who perchance behold this simple urn,
Pass on --- it honours none you wish to mourn.
To mark a friend's remains these stones arise
I never knew but one, --- and here he lies."

A Karazan Newfoundland Weekend

Uh, hi again -- this is 'Drew ,er "Puppy" er "Andrew Drool".

We're back from Sacramento, which is another word for "hot".

Fortunately, the show was indoors, which meant that Satchie actually ran. Really!

On Saturday, he won Winner's Dog and I got the Reserve Winner's thing that sounds like a beer label. Then Satchie got to go into the Best of Breed competition, but he was hopelessly fed up with it by then. But he didn't need hospitalization, which is kinda good cuz I wanna play today.

And just today, cousin Axl got Winner's dog so, all in all, it was a Karazanian weekend. Congrats to Aunt Jill.

We want to thank Aunt Claire for (always) taking such good care of us, and Jeff and Blossom and Erin, and Mr. & Mrs. P. It was great to see Dave and Terri and Christine, and really cool to hang with Hummer, Mr. Beautiful, and Jolie, Ms. Beautiful.

Seaking of beautiful, our buddy Gizmo and his parents are coming to see us in only a couple of weeks. This means all kinds of fun and beach time!!!

Okay, bye for now.

'Drew

Of Dogs and Men, Part Three

Almost every day, 'Drew and I encounter people who have so lost sight of morality that we understand (at the risk of being presumptuous) what Lord Byron meant when he wrote of Man that "when all is done upon the tomb is seen, not what he was but what he should have been."

We see it in our daily encounter with the GGNRA, with dog-haters in general, with the groups that parade as "environmentalists" when their agendas are otherwise, and in so many people and groups who only seem interested in ruining others.

Just yesterday, we were walking by St. Peter & Paul's in North Beach after some fun in Washington Square. A priest came out to greet us and gave us some pats on our big heads. Then he asked Dad, "have you read your Byron?" Dad paused and then responded, "are you asking me whether I am what I should be?" The priest smiled and we parted ways.

This is a question we should ask ourselves everyday, a guiding light, if you will, towards leading a proper life not just as a Gentle Giant, but more to Byron's point, as those who are human and who should, by definition, practice humanity. For in the end, we shall all confront the question of whether we were what we should have been.

Big Jack knew exactly who he was: he lived his life to the fullest; beauty without vanity, strength without insolence, courage without ferocity, and all the virtues of Man without his vices. His moral compass was straight and fine-tuned.

Oh what a world it would be if people would begin their days by reciting those words.

Instead, what we find more and more are people who bring truth to why it was that Eugene O'Neill wrote that dogs are wiser than 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 to obtain the objects they have not.
There is nothing of value they have to bequeath
except their love and their faith."


'Drew and I try to live as did Jack.
As for the others, we can only hope and pray that they have "read their Byron".

(Karazan Giacomo (Jack) Poochini -- may the blessed Mary of the Angels wrap you in her cloak of peace.)



Satchie

Adieu Karazan Terraneuve

Just look at this handsome puppy!!
Nice work, Chester and Roxy.

He's heading off to a new family in France.
He'll be missed but perhaps we'll hear about him saving someone on the Cote d' Azur one day.

Heck with the French. Que bella Terranova!!!!!!!!

(Do I really have a show in two weeks??)


Scoldy Boy