dogs at the bay... Keyron

My mom was an animal person. My dad, not so much. When they got married, my mom had a young great dane. This dog was the dog they want to put in the guide books as the example of a great dane. Keyron was an awesome dog. When we were born, Keyron decided that it was his job to look after us, so he did. We could climb on him, search his mouth for whatever slobbery object we thought might be there, or take him for a walk just as if we could actually control him on a leash. He wouldn't let us ride him (I mean don't great danes LOOK like they should be ridden by small children???), but he wasn't gruff about it, he merely sat down. Oh, well, slides are fun too.

Down at the bay, Keyron liked to play fetch with a chunk of 2 x 4. My dad would throw that board out in the water as far as he could. Keyron would bound over the incoming waves, almost never having to actually swim, and then bring the board back for more. When he got tired of the game, he would bury the board. "That's enough of that!" When he wanted to play again, he would gently take my dad by the arm to where the board was burried, then dig it up for more exercise.

When we were young, which we were when Keyron was around, my grandmother would worry about us around the water. She worried that we would go out on the pier by ourselves, when no adults were paying attention. One day when my parents were gone fishing or shopping or something, she just couldn't stand it any more, and she decided to walk with us out on the pier, and get it out of our systems. She rounded us up, and took us down the grass to the beach. Keyron came along of course, because he was taking care of us. When we got to the pier, Grannie was surprised when the dog blocked our way. "No! Those kids are NOT going on the pier until their Mama says it's OK," was his message. She was surprised, but didn't push past him. Instead, she felt much better about our odds of heading down that pier by ourselves.

Keyron, by the way, is not only the standard by which I judge great danes, but ALL dogs. He's why I love BIG dogs, although I don't limit myself to great danes. He's why, when I went to pick my own dog, I choose Rosie, a Malamute, Lab, Rhodesian ridgeback mix, who grew to weigh 150 pounds in her prime. She was quite a character, too.