Okay, it's official. I have broken the 30 pound mark.

Mommy and Daddy took me to the vet to get my last round of puppy shots. I have two more rounds of lyme shots to go, and then, puppy school for me.

Daddy was sad because he wanted to take me to the Bear Mountain Newfoundland Club Ice Cream Social, but alas, My vet said I am not ready.

Daddy also created the "Bella-Meter." It shows how I have grown!

Bye Everyone!

HOT DOG!!!!

It was close to 109 degrees today. It has been simply miserable for the whole week. Daddy has had to soak me when we go walkies.

Thanks Daddy.

Daddy told me that Newfies are noble dogs...

The great poet Lord Byron, had a Newfie named "Boatswain," who died when he was only 5. Byron loved the dog so much he nursed Boatswain, who was dying of rabies, without fear of being bitten.

The words below are at Newstead Abbey, where Boatswain was buried.

By the way, Boastswain's grave is larger than his master's.


      EPITAPH TO A DOG 

Near this spot
are deposited the Remains of one
who possessed Beauty without Vanity,
Strength without Insolence,
Courage without Ferosity,
and all the virtues of Man without his Vices.

This praise, which would be unmeaning Flattery
if inscribed over human Ashes,
is but a just tribute to the Memory of
BOATSWAIN, a DOG,
who was born in Newfoundland May 1803
and died at Newstead Nov. 18, 1808.

When some proud Son of Man returns to Earth,
Unknown by Glory, but upheld by Birth,
The sculptor’s art exhausts the pomp of woe,
And storied urns record who rests 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,
Unhonoured 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 tongue hypocrisy, thy heart 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 honors none you wish to mourn.
To mark a friend’s remains these stones arise;
I never knew but one – and here he lies.

Holy Smokes! I am getting BIGGGGGG!

Hello everyone.

It's been about three weeks since I have spoken to you. And, I have gotten THREE TIMES AS LARGE!!!!

My mommy can't pick me up anymore. And, the other dogs are finally starting to notice me...though I am still just a baby.

I have my next doctor's visit on the 27th. Daddy thinks I will be 40 pounds...I am going to eat and eat and eat and eat, so I can make it so.

Here I am !

Daddy, I need a booster seat.

Newfoundlands are magical....

....that's what a wise friend of my daddy once said.

Daddy thinks this is true.

On the first day at my new home, my new Mommy, Daddy, and Alexander sat on the bed, and watched television. My boy was smiling, and then said: "dough" when he looked at me.

Mommy and Daddy were in tears.

Why? Because Alexander hadn't said anything for over five years.....

More pictures of me!!!

Hello gang.

I thought I would show you some more pictures of me, taken by my new Daddy!