The Newfoundland Dog: True Stories of Courage, Loyalty, and Friendship
By Robert C. Parsons and Mel D'Souza
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The Newfoundland Dog - Robert C. Parsons
1
INTELLIGENCE
The large and handsome animal which is called from its native country the Newfoundland Dog, belongs to the group of spaniels, all of which appear to be possessed of considerable mental powers, and to be capable of instruction to a degree that is rarely seen in animals . . . In this country [England], the Newfoundland Dog is raised to its proper position, and made the friend and companion of man.
ILLUSTRATED NATURAL HISTORY (MAMMALIA)
REV. J. G. WOOD, 1853
CAROLINA’S DOG
CAPTAIN STEPHEN LEMIST commanded the ship Carolina out of Boston, with his second mate, John Codman. Lemist, in the story as told by Codman, had on board a fine, shaggy, black Newfoundland dog named Neptune.
Nep, as he was affectionately known, was the pet of all hands as well as his master.
Nep had full liberty of the quarterdeck and availed of that privilege by walking about there. At times he put his paws upon the taffrail, the wide rail around the stern of a ship. Sometimes he would get up on the rail and look about. To the crew, the balancing act on the taffrail looked dangerous, but no action or coaxing could prevent the dog from standing on the rail, looking at birds, the sea, and other ships.
One summer, Carolina was bound from New Orleans and was being towed up the Mississippi River accompanied by four other vessels—all linked together in a row, like ducks. It was a civil, calm tow and Nep was walking on the rail as was his occasional custom. However, this time he lost his balance and fell overboard.
It was impossible to stop the vessel without affecting the tow and all ships in it. At any rate, even if Carolina’s crew wanted to turn around, the captain of the tow tug would not consent to do so. So Captain Lemist and the distraught crew had no choice but to leave the dog to his fate. They watched it swimming as their ship moved farther and farther upriver.
For a while Nep swam after the flotilla but, finding he could not keep up, he struck out for the western shore of the Mississippi, sensing that he was nearer to that side. The only satisfaction the crew had was that the dog’s life was in no danger and that he was a good swimmer. They felt sure he would reach land.
Downhearted and mourning the loss of a dear shipmate, Carolina’s crew had no choice but to return to their duties. Although Nep might survive, they sadly agreed they had parted company with the Newfoundland forever.
Captain Lemist took the loss the hardest. Mate Codman said after, I can see the captain now as he laid his head upon the binnacle [the housing for the compass] and sobbed like a child.
Carolina was positioned 50 miles below New Orleans at the time of the accident. In due time it docked at a levee, where the crew remained for three days discharging cargo. The ship was consigned a freight of cotton and tobacco for London, England, and was towed up to Lafayette, some three to four miles above, to load.
Codman says Carolina was berthed on the eastern side of the Mississippi, the third outside in a tier of vessels, side by side extending out from the wharf. The cargo was carried on planks over the decks of the other vessels between Carolina and the shore.
One morning, after Carolina had been there two days, the crew was astonished to see Nep walk on board. Codman relates his and his shipmates’ joy was equal to that of Nep’s. Wagging his tail, Nep began to cry and whine in a dog’s language of delight. He jumped on every one of his old friends, entirely ignoring the stevedores whom he did not know.
Nep then rushed down the companionway in search of the captain, who was not on board at the time. A few minutes later Nep came back on deck, looking dejected and mournful. Codman says the dog took no further interest in him or any of the crew, except for a few inquiring looks.
I expect to be believed,
says Codman, for I am telling the truth when I say there were big tears in the dog’s eyes.
Codman knew the captain had gone ashore to the consignee’s office in Lafayette. Come on, Nep. Let’s go,
he said. Nep understood quickly as he jumped on the stages and planks over the other vessels’ decks and followed the mate down to the office.
There Nep was grabbed up in his fond master’s arms. Codman says, There is not a particle of fiction in this pathetic yet happy story.
But the mystery! How Nep found his ship was beyond the understanding of all crew. They merely guessed that he had travelled 50 miles up the river on the western side. He then came to the ferry, somehow got a passage across without molestation, crossed over to New Orleans, and then found his way up to Lafayette. How did he know his ship was on the eastern side? But he did. He then walked over the decks of two ships to reach his old home again.
How did he find us?
said Codman. The crew could see he yearned to tell them, and Nep could see it was in their minds and on their lips. But, alas, he could not speak.
A KISS FOR THE
RIGHTGUY
THE BOSTON HERALD verifies this is a true story and there is no reason to doubt it. On Thursday, February 1, 1872, a gentle, handsome Newfoundland dog walked into the school that once stood on Poplar Street, Boston. He entered the dressing room or cloakroom in the back of a classroom and took down the cap and coat of his young master.
The Newfoundland looked inquiringly at all the children in the room and failed to see the owner of the cap and coat. Walking into another classroom on the same floor, he found the person he was looking for. The Newfoundland went up to the desk, dropped the garments near the desk, and affectionately kissed the boy.
THE SHILLING
UNDER THE STONE
THE STORY IS told of a gentleman, perhaps wanting to show the intelligence of his Newfoundland dog, who tested his loyal companion with a shilling. He was travelling somewhere in England with a friend on horseback. The man put a marked shilling under a stone near a road, first showing the shilling to his Newfoundland dog. He then, with his friend, rode on for three miles.
When the Newfoundland received a signal from his master, the dog turned back to find and retrieve the shilling. The two gentlemen rode home, but to their disappointment and surprise the faithful animal did not return that day.
As the tale was later told by observers at the scene, the dog had gone to the spot where the shilling had been deposited, but the stone was too heavy for the agility or strength of the dog. He stayed at the spot howling until two horsemen came riding up.
They were attracted by his inordinately distressed howls and stopped to look at the dog. One of them got down from his horse and, seeing the stone near the dog, turned it over with his foot. He saw the shilling and put it into his pocket, not realizing it was the object of the dog’s distress.
The dog followed their horses for 20 miles until the horsemen stopped at an inn. He remained quietly in the background, where the two had a meal, then the dog followed the chambermaid to the bedroom. The maid admitted the dog, thinking he was part of the group.
Meanwhile, the dog hid under one of the beds. The man who had the shilling in his pocket hung his trousers on a nail by the bedside. When both travellers were asleep, the dog took the trousers in his mouth and, leaping out of the window that had been left open because of the sultry heat, ran off.
Eventually he reached his master’s home with his prize. When the master looked through the pockets, he was able to trace the owner and return the trousers and the sundry objects in it—except the shilling. The master and the travellers were able to piece together what had happened, verifying the intelligence and cunning of the Newfoundland dog.
In time the story entitled A Sagacious Newfoundland Dog
was published in Nature (a prestigious British journal founded in 1869 and still in existence today), and on October 9, 1879, was reprinted in a Newfoundland newspaper.
A RAINY DAY SOLUTION
AHANDSOME NEWFOUNDLAND dog named Jack
lived in California in the San Francisco area. Every evening at nine o’clock, Jack and his master went for a walk. One evening Jack did something for the first time, and the owner believed it was the dog’s intelligence and not instinct that prompted the action. So much so the man sent the story to Cassell’s Saturday Journal and it also appeared in the San Francisco Breeder and Sportsman in July, 1894.
Jack’s master always used an orange-wood walking stick and always carried it with him on the walk. Every evening at the stroke of nine by the clock in the home, Jack rushed to the hat rack in the hall and nosed about the walking sticks and umbrellas until he found the orange-wood stick.
He