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This book has two Newfoundland dogs. But the Newfie in this photo is not a character in a book. Benjamin Bear is with Sequoia skunk and Milly kitten. He used to give Sequoia a bath everyday until Sequoia sprayed Libby the dog. Excerpt from
The Twilight Meeting the Newfs at the Newfoundland Rescue...… “Now, hon,” Lindsay told Sam, “worry about how we’re going to fit Rex in the car at the rescue tomorrow. It’s more timely worrying, much more constructive.” Then she had switched her full water glass for the mug she held since he was to stop drinking coffee. And in the quiet, their new archaic furnace had sounded off like popcorn in a kettle as it steamed the last of the morning chill from the house. “Hon-” she said, and he took her wide hand in his big paw. “Sam, you realize I’m going to be just fine, don’t you?” She had to tell him that a lot. “No,” he had said. * * * * * The Newfoundland rescue was near the little village of Hudson. A hospitable country sanctuary if you were a transient dog. A place so deprived she did not want to tarry. The couple who took in Newfs had a passion for the breed and brought them from all over the country to recuperate from puppy mills and poorly run stud services. They fervidly managed to separate Newfoundlands from abusive owners and dog fighting rings. They were told of Newfoundlands at junk yards, infested with parasites, given little food. And the couple brought each dog to Hudson, Indiana to receive treatment by volunteer veterinarians, to be cleaned by volunteer dog groomers. The dogs could eat well, drink fresh water for a change, lounge in the shade, hope they were through the worst of life. Only a few dogs were in each shaded run and kennel, their deep barking focused on Lindsay and Sam. The boggy grass stank of urine. Lindsay hated to imagine summer here and hoped they were all going somewhere more luxurious. The lanky man they followed seemed to give all his own meals to the dogs too. He led them to a square run where a rippling furred, blue-black Newfoundland giant intelligently beheld them. No threat, no question. As if he knew. “This one’s owner died, like I told you,” the man said. He opened the wire gate.
“Who’s that?” Sam asked. “A female,” the man said. “Don’t have a name. She was in a supposed animal shelter in Ohio. They were going to put her down, but we got called soon enough. She was lost, maybe stolen, trying to get home. No chip to trace. We couldn’t find the trail to return her.” “She have a home yet?” Sam asked as Lindsay thought she looked like a Susanna. She took Sam’s hand when the rescuer shook his head, saying, “Nope, not yet,” and Sam looked at Lindsay and she grinned at him. “Well hell,” Sam said. “She does now.” They gave the man a solid donation and left with Sam crammed in back of the Crown Vic, his arms happily wrapped around Susanna’s ruffled black neck. Lindsay, supposedly smaller than Sam, crowded Garth’s haunches further on the front so he would rest on the reclined passenger seat. She was nearly centered behind the steering wheel. She rested her right arm across his back and stroked his massive shoulders. Poor Garth hunkered down to keep his head from pressing on the roof of the car, then slid lower, resting his floppy face on the back of the seat. He had sighed contentedly, rolled his brown eyes back to peer at Susanna, kind of smiling. Lindsay smiled too, imagining they could pose for a huge dog cartoon.
Book: Newfoundlands club, dogs, midwest, Newf rescue, heart of america, Newfoundland adoption, dogs, southcentral, northcentral, puppy mills, stud, gentle giants, michigan, indiana, southern california, seattle, New England, breeders, Columbia, high country, pet finder, maritime dog, nca, newfie, Newfoundland dog book, info Newfoundland Club of America Rescue Locator - link here - will guide you to Newfoundlands that need adoptiive families. There are rescuers in Michigan, Indiana, Great Lakes, Northcentral, Southcentral, the High Country, the Southeast, and more. www.nca rescue.org/pages/rescuemap.html
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A Breath Floats By is the story of a soul cluster of women and men, brought together to support one another in their present life and fulfill their life purpose.
This Newf isn’t a Rex at all, Lindsay thought. He’s a Garth, broad shouldered, well-mannered. Lindsay held out her hands for him, wanting to comb through his feathery fur. The dog stayed inside, using his giant head to nudge the smaller Newfie beside him. 
Note: The Newf rescue depicted in this novel is a fictional place and not intended to characterize anyone living or passed over. Benjamin Bear is a Newfoundland dog we adopted from a Newfie rescue. He is the one in the hat. They say we look like our dogs. I am a cross between my Newfies and my skunks. I don't mind.
