The story of Lad---Diana Langworth

Lad was a very big Labrador Retriever who was brought to our little house on Ainslie Hill in Sutton as a consolation for our son Todd.  About a week previously, Todd, who was only six at the time, had lost his soulmate Beau to a road mishap.

The farm on Ainslie Hill consisted of 370 acres, so a dog had a lot of room to run free but the only local road ran through the middle, dividing the 100 acres of meadowland on the east from the 270 acres of field and pasture on the west. There was a lot of traffic on that road but we crossed a herd of 35 milking cows from west to east and back twice a day so we were all very used to being on the road.  Beau had been sitting on the road at this cow crossing, at a non-dairy hour, watching a groundhog. A gravel truck coming down the hill tried to warn him but Beau had his eye on the prize and refused to move. The truck could not stop and that was the end of Beau. Children on farms learn early that death happens.  When I put Todd to bed that night, he was very teary-eyed. He told me that he didn't think he could live without Beau. So sad.  Now let me continue on to Lad.

Someone in the farming community and I am not sure who decided that we needed Lad. He was just the most pleasant dog I think we ever had. He was big, likely over 100 pounds. He had a marvelous black coat and he was love on four feet. Todd had a new 'best friend' instantly.

Under the cedar hedge at the edge of the lawn,  was a large doghouse. It had a western exposure so it would be a pleasant spot for a dog. Lad didn't need to be tied, he accepted his new house happily and fit into our family very nicely.

It wasn't long before we started to see that Lad was an entrepreneur. He was a hunter of groundhogs which he brought to his doghouse and laid outside his house until such time as the 'stink' told him it was time. I never saw him ingesting anything BUT they did disappear except for the furry hide which he laid out flat in his house. He was carpeting his doghouse!

He loved to self-serve treats he got from the bulk tank immediately after the truck had pumped the milk out. He got right under that pipe and let the drippings fall over his head. That meant  that in the warmer months, he smelled of sour milk and in the cold months he had a head covered with frozen milk. One very cold winter day, I decided that he could come into the house to warm up by the fireplace. That turned out to be a very 'bad' idea. I had to send him back to his carpeted house.

He disliked thunderstorms and took off to the shelter of the trees on the far western end of the property. There was a Line Road that ended the farm but roads always lead somewhere and Lad decided to see where it went to. Hopefully somewhere away from thunder. He found a pet  store!  I don't know how they knew but we received a phone call to ask if we were missing a dog.  They gave him TREATS while he was with them.  From that day on, if it stormed, Lad went to the pet store. It was a trip of about 3 miles.

Lad also decided that I would probably 'like' to get the Toronto Star. I found it at my back door, in its blue plastic bag. I thought it was a Star carrier who had put it there and promptly went to open it  BUT I noticed some tooth marks. Lad had brought it from the Maclean's house across the road. He also brought me a copper-bottomed frypan which I have to confess, I never tried to return.

On the western exposure side of our house was an eight-foot sliding glass door.  Dr. Shouldice had decided it should go in there when our kitchen was redone. It just never got any deck added to the outside so it was only a door to a 'big drop'. It did, however, allow for a spectacular view of the back property and sunsets.  There was a small gravel pit about half a mile below the house where the farmer neighbour 'dumped' his dead calves. Now, that is not an acceptable thing to do but he had always done that and we were the 'newbies' to the area so we let it go.  One day we looked out to see Lad coming up through the ploughed field outside our 'big window' with a whole calf leg in his jaws. As he neared the upper end of the field, he decided to bury his prize but could not bring himself to put it down. He worked hard, skillfully working to lift a furrow and all the while holding that leg. He eventually laid it down and worked the soil over it. I never did see him retrieve it but I am sure he did.

Lad also had a neighborhood visiting program going on a daily basis where he went to each of the five or six houses on the hill to 'collect' that which they didn't need ---scrap-wise. One lady told me that he didn't just sit in front of her door, he actually stood on hind legs and looked in. She was his best bet for a good feed.

Lad made his food gathering trip every morning but one winter day, when a snowstorm had closed in the road to a narrow one-lane passage, Lad was walking 'his route', regardless of danger, and he was struck and killed. We were a saddened family. Lad was gone but the tales of him went on for years. It seemed everyone had a Lad Story and I have just told mine----again.