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Blue Heaven Lady of the
Lake
“Minnow”
May 11,1998
– Nov 4, 2010
Written by Minnow's mom,
Sharon
Carlton
Dearest Minnow
What Daddy and I will remember most
about you was your attraction to humans and their attraction to
you. I’m not sure if it was because you were always happy or
because of your sensitivity or perhaps a little of both.
It seemed that you started your
life with us showing us how attracted to people you were.
Driving home from Blue Heaven we stopped at a rest stop to take
you for a walk. You very politely walked over to a group of
people sitting on the grass and just lay down beside them for a
while. You would rather be with people than eat. I saw this the
day you dropped a biscuit from your mouth while a small child
petted you.
 I remember many of the funny
little things you did. As a puppy when you went out to go potty
two seconds out the door and you would be chasing bugs, I’d say
Minnow you have to go potty and you’d pop your head up with an
“oops, oh! I forgot.“ Once when I went to the door to let you
out it was pouring down rain. I said “Minnow it’s raining cats
and dogs! ” your reaction – let me at them! I liked to say you
were the Gracie Allen of the dog world. I remember the puppy
zooms you used to do around the family room couch – just for no
reason. I remember how you would wake me up with a cold nose
poke on Saturday mornings. I would have to get out of bed so
that you could get in and cuddle with Daddy. When Daddy would
stall about taking you for your morning walk you would come and
find me and watch as I nagged him to get going.
It always
amazed me that your senses were so keen. You could see deer in
the woods when no one else could. You knew when a car was
turning into the driveway. When we played hide and seek you
could not only track my path but my most recent path. You knew
when Toots was stressed or about to become ill. You would fetch
me with a very still and serious gaze.
We spent one Thanksgiving Day at
Aunt Bevy’s house. Dinner was served buffet style. When she
called “dinner’s ready” everyone lined up, then some one began
to giggle - you were in line!
At VOSM the photographer for the
local magazine chose you as one of her subjects. She started to
photograph you by lying on the floor in front of you. Then she
stood up to adjust her camera so you sat up and perfectly
presented your profile.
Hunting Easter eggs and having
treats from your Christmas were two of your favorite things.
We rode together on the golf
cart, your idea of carting. You were also a sled dog as we rode
together down the hill on the toboggan.
Even as an old dog you loved to
play. You would hunt over and over again for your mechanical
“piggy”, pounce on the mechanical “tigger” as it bounced or turn
on a dime to chase a spot of light from an infrared pointer.
You loved to visit Grandma Toots
at the nursing home and had a group of friends you had to see
when ever we went.
We took you out to get your
“people fix” whenever we could. You could spot a dog lover in
need from several yards away. So often it was some one who was
remembering the loss of a pet. They would talk with us as you
sat by them and they stroked your fur.
I remember your tenth birthday
when we took you to the local garden center. People would stop
to pet you and when some one would say “Happy Birthday” you
would acknowledge with your doggie smile and an extra tail wag.
At one point there was actually a line of people waiting to wish
you well. When you became ill and had to have a liquid diet, you
would sit in front of me and lift your chin so I could tie an
apron around your neck.
Many, many people will remember
you, those who knew you well and the many strangers you met.
Daddy liked to say that just your presence had a calming effect.
Even now when I look at a picture of you your happy face
brightens my day.
I know that for many years to
come people who see a big black dog pass by will smile and
remember the dog they met named “Minnow.”
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Breeders
of Newfoundlands:
Cowboy
