The Shaggy Nanny

 

I will not leave you comfortless:

I will come to you.

                                    -- John 14:18

 

            It had been an Alka-Seltzer / Tylenol / Maalox / Hot-Fudge Brownie Sundae kind of summer, news-wise.

 

            War!

 

            Terrorism!

 

            Basket-case countries going "noo-coo-lar"!

 

            Wildfires!

 

            Drought!

 

            Global warming!

 

            Illegal immigrants!

 

            And then Mel Gibson went bonkers! (Sob!) Say it isn't so, Mel! The hunkiest actor ever, in a drunken moment, revealed ugly, shocking anti-Semitism.

 

            I cried out in agony when I read of my longtime crush's freefall. I slumped, and my arm dangled down the side of the chair.

 

            Suddenly, a cold, wet snout bounced my hand upward so that it landed on a warm, fuzzy head. It was Sunny Bone-O, our yellow Labrador retriever. She'd heard my cry, and in her doggy way, thought I'd feel better if I petted her a little bit.

 

            Darn right I did. I think it's in the Plan. I believe our companion animals are deputized from above. When people aren't around to give you comfort and tenderness, animals are there to do it, and do it well.

 

            How do animals know what we're feeling? How do they know when we need them so much? It's a great mystery, and a comfort. People who had rocky childhoods even say that the one who knew them the best and cared for them the most was the family dog. You feel sorry for them . . . but so glad they knew the true love of a God-given, faithful friend, four-legged or otherwise.

 

            So in that summer of stress and anxiety, crisis and doomsday talk, I was delighted to hear about a dog named Hogan who's gone above and beyond the call of Man's Best Friend. Hogan, you see, has become a New Baby Nanny beyond compare for the new baby at his house, named Charity Rose.

 

 

             Hogan is a 3-year-old, 80-pound, Great Pyrenees / Chow mix who lives with his "parents," Jeff Curtis and Beth McDaniel of Omaha. Hogan's been a playful companion for this busy household's older six children, ranging in ages from 13 to 6.

 

            But when Beth became pregnant, Hogan changed. His sheepdog lineage already made him protective, territorial and loyal. But through the pregnancy, he just went bonkers over Beth. He watched her like a hawk, following her from room to room.

 

            "He slept on the floor on my side of the bed," she said. He'd never done that before.

 

            "Any time I had any kind of twinges or anything, especially as the baby got bigger and would kick me, he'd be right next to me. Maybe I would kind of wince, but I don't know. It seemed like any time the baby would kick, it was like he could sense it."

 

            Charity was born at 8 pounds, 14 ounces. The couple didn't really know what to expect from the dog when they brought her home. Well, Hogan's tenderness and concern turned him in to an adorable, shaggy Mary Poppins . . . heaven-sent, pure love.

 

            "He always wants to be next to her," Beth said. "He doesn't care about me now - he's completely bonded to her. He sleeps by her bed. If she makes a peep, he runs right over to her. He likes to lick her, too - Jeff says it's his instinct to clean her - but I don't really want her to be cleaned by a dog's tongue."

 

            Jeff says it best: "If Hogan only knew how to make her a bottle and bring her a Binkie." †