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A Jumbo kind of love

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By ARLENE CLOUSTON

Special to the Tribune

Published: November 8, 2009

One day, Mother received a letter in the mail. She told us she had sent for a Newfoundland/Labrador retriever pup for the family and that this was the letter of confirmation. The puppies had been born, and when they were weaned and eating dog food, were big and strong enough to stand the trip, they would send a male pup to us.

Finally, the post office called and told us a puppy had arrived and asked if we wanted to pick him up rather than wait for the postman to bring him out the next day. When my Dad and older brother got there, they saw that the address on the crate was correct, Watertown, Wis., but the pup had first been sent to Watertown, N.Y. The poor puppy was so thirsty, so hungry and so glad to get out of that crate.

We wrapped up a warm water bottle in a bath towel and placed that in his box for the night so he could lie against it. We also put a dim light in his box hoping he would not cry, but he did the first couple of nights. He was all black with white on his chest. We called him Jumbo.

We all loved Jumbo, fed him and played with him, but he became our little brother Glenn's dog. As Jumbo grew and progressed we taught him tricks, to shake hands, roll over and to sit down and speak for a treat.

Then we wanted to teach him to jump through a hoop, but Jumbo did not like the hoop. Several months later, we put the hoop in an opening in the barn where there was no way for him to get around it, and he finally walked through the hoop. Did we ever make a big thing out of it when he came to us! Then we held the hoop a foot off the ground and he jumped through it. In days to come, we always held it a little higher, and Jumbo jumped through it, to our great satisfaction.

Jumbo also became a self-designated guardian for Glenn. If Glenn was outside, Jumbo was with him. Neighbors called and told my mother, "When your little boy is outside, do you realize that your dog is always between your son and the road?"

When the men would harness and water the team of horses to go out to the field to work, Jumbo loved to go along. He loved roaming the fields, chasing every gopher, rabbit and squirrel that he could find. But if the men were getting ready to go when Glenn was outside, Jumbo would cry because he wanted to go along, but he would not leave Glenn's side. As they left, Glenn would go to his sandbox, and Jumbo would lie beside it.

One day, the men made a new fence all along the cow pasture. Jumbo was able to spend the afternoon with them roaming around. Eventually, Jumbo came back to find that the men had left and that he was fenced out.

Now I'm sure he could have gone back through the fields and found a place to come through, but that was not his choice. Jumbo sized up this fence, went back and took a running jump, and more than cleared the fence. The neighbors living across the road from the pasture watched Jumbo's predicament and told us about it. Our teaching him to jump did come in handy for him.

Jumbo always insisted that he spend his night sleeping on the back porch. There was a rug out there, but he would have been more comfortable in the barn. On cold nights, the men would close the door of the barn, telling him that he would have to sleep in the barn, but he would cry. If he could find a way to get out, he would. He felt it was his job to stand guard at all times.

Our Jumbo was only with us eight years when he passed away from subaortic stenosis. He was buried in the apple orchard with love and tears. Our farm always had a dog, but Jumbo was our favorite.

DO YOU HAVE A STORY TO TELL?

I Remember It Well is a feature of the Prime Time page. E-mail submissions of about 500 words to

baylife@tampatrib.com or send typed stories by mail to Emily Seawell, 200 S. Parker St., Tampa FL 33606. Be sure to include a recent print or JPEG of yourself and one or more photos that help tell the story, along with a telephone number so we can reach you. Submissions cannot be returned.

Arlene Clouston lives in Lake Placid.

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