Oh, that's a lovely scene there. They must have so much fun in that river.
Thanks again, @carolkean, for this wonderful opportunity to share our stories and hopefully raise awareness about animal care and the handling of the emotions produced by their loss.
The picture you chose to illustrate Bobby was quite good. That's how he looked after rummaging, tossing, and twisting in the garbage.

I accidentally double posted one of my haiku posts, and later on posted two different posts with identical titles, and I'm pretty tech savvy. So double oops. It happens to the best of us.

@hlezama's post reminds me of a terrible story in our neighborhood, that my sister told me happened to a school friend of hers, but it's haunted me since childhood, so I'll leave it at that.

I have no desire to depress everyone.

Instead, I'll close with some of my favorite memories about Ebony, which shows just a little of what an outstanding, special, and truly noble dog she was.

We moved to Santa Monica shortly after we got her, and to Venice Beach two years later, both of which Ebony absolutely loved.

She was very laid back and nonaggressive, like most Newfies, but if we were walking along the beach and she spied a gathering of sandpipers near the surf, she would slow down and start stalking them.

You haven't seen anything until you've seen an adult female Newfie, all 135 pounds of her, solid black against the pale sand, trying to look inconspicuous while stalking a flock of resting seabirds.

But then she would suddenly leap forward with a deep bark, scatter the lot, and settle into a laid back walk once more. Her job was done.

Naturally, dogs were not technically allowed on the beach, but although I had friends who had been ticketed for having their dogs on the sand, I saw cops all the time and they just smiled and waved.

I finally asked one of the Beach Patrol officers about it one day, while standing with Ebony safely on the Venice Pier, where dogs were allowed.

He told me that, since she was always clearly under my control, even when she was offlead, and was well-behaved and not bothering other beachgoers, and since I was a small and attractive woman, they would much rather see me on the beach with my big dog than without her.

Kudos to the cops.

I remember one Saturday around noon, when a guy walked up to me, clearly drunk from the night before. And, true to her breed, Ebony showed no aggression, but simply placed herself between me and the man, as she didn't trust him.

Slurring his words slightly, he asked me if I was walking a bear.

And, because I believe that inane questions are completely deserving of smartass responses, I told him that yes, indeed I was walking my bear, and he'd best keep his distance.

About that time, a male friend from college spotted us, and came over to see if the guy was bothering me, at which point the man stumbled on his way.

But my favorite thing about Ebony was her sense of humor, which was more wry and finely developed than any other dog I've ever known.

As one example, there was a seriously annoying Pomeranian that lived a couple of blocks from us, and every time we walked near her, she would come over and try to "take on" Ebony, despite Ebony being well over ten times her size.

She also regularly took on a friend's male Newfie, who lived around the corner from us, and a couple of large Great Pyrenees that lived in the opposite direction.

One afternoon, the Pomeranian decided yet again to harass Ebony, but for once her owner was with her, and Ebony made a decision.

She looked pointedly at the women who owned the dog, then down at the yapping dog, then back at the woman, as if to say, "Sorry, but this needs to be done," and set one massive paw on the little dog's shoulders, gently pressed her to the ground, and held her there.

The little dog yapped, squirmed, whined, yapped some more, and Ebony didn't move.

Finally, she stopped yapping for a moment and lay still, at which point, on cue, Ebony lifted her paw to release her.

That little Pom continued harassing all the big dogs on the beach . . . except for Ebony. When we walked along the beach, she crossed to the other side of the boardwalk to watch us go.

But my favorite story of Ebony on the beach happened when my mom was walking her, and I was still at work.

I wish I'd been there to see it. ;-)

Ebony had a game she'd developed on her own that she played with us.

She'd usually keep up with us on our way away from home, but on our way back, she would lag farther and farther behind, on lead or off. She wasn't ready to go home yet.

But every so often, out of the blue, she'd decide to dump one of us . . . she would come up behind us, and catch us with her shoulder right behind the knee, which meant that we were definitely going down, and did. Frequently.

But she never, not once, pulled her little trick anywhere but on soft sand or grass. Not only was she well aware of her size, and strength, but she instinctively knew not to cause us to fall on hard ground.

Once we moved to Venice, we had the only chain link fence on our block, which the cops used from time to throw some misbehaving beachgoer against to cuff them.

And, somehow, every single beach cop knew our dog's name. Every one. And she always loved the cops (and everyone else).

And, have I ever mentioned that, in the 70s, the beach cops in Venice and Santa Monica, who mostly patrolled using ten speed bikes, were also some of the best looking cops of all time?

No, I never noticed. Ha!

Anyway, my mom and Ebony were walking down the beach one day, when Ebony decided, God only knows why, to dump one of the cops!

My mom saw it happening, but not soon enough to warn the guy, who predictably went down in the soft sand, as we always did.

He came up with his billy club in hand, great reflexes, only to be greeted by a smiling goofy Newfie, who was clearly enjoying herself thoroughly; and my mom, who I'm pretty certain was most likely looking stricken.

To his credit, the cop, having seen Ebony dump my mom and myself on multiple occasions, started laughing, and all but couldn't stop. My mom was laughing too.

Ebony, I'm sure, was elated.

Her job, once more, was done. ;-)

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