If you’ve ever wondered what it would be like to live with a 130 pound slobber factory in your house, just watch the Tom Hanks movie, Turner and Hooch.  We thought we were prepared.  We really did.  We thought that movie was nothin’ but Hollywood drama, and that they over-played the saliva production in the loveable French-Mastiff, Hooch.  Well, we were mistaken.  A French Mastiff will produce well over it’s weight in slobber, year after year, after year.

Remi, our French Mastiff, came to live with our big family when he was 4 years old.  He lived to the age of 10.  I remember when my wife sent me some pictures of him one night during her break at work.  I thought she was joking when she said he needed a loving home.  I said, “not our home”! “Lordy Joy, he’s bigger than you”!  The dog was was bigger than everyone else living in our home except me!  It was like living with a miniature horse, just tromping through every where he went.  We welcomed him into our home with loving arms, and he returned the favor by ruining our couch, staining our trim on the floors, and waking us up by scratching and banging on our bedroom door wanting to be fed at 4AM and let out.  Remi was our family’s protector.  He always knew when Chad, our UPS guy was at the front door.  (Or USPS, or FedEx, basically any delivery driver he hated)  He could scare us with his bark whenever anybody rang our doorbell, and he always had to push his way to see who was coming in his home.  Remi’s head was so large, it almost looked fake at times.  In the morning, no matter what, he always had to push out our dining table chairs to be right under the table, right under my wife’s feet while she drank her coffee.  It didn’t matter if a chair went flying, Remi wanted to be close to us.

As much as I could tell you about how crazy it was living with a big dog like Remi, I could also fill the pages of a book with how much the dog meant to us.  Living with a big family can be tough at times.  Remi was the glue that held us together.  I truly felt like he was my spirit animal, because just like me, Remi loved to eat, get lovins’, and take naps in the afternoon!  When my mom was suffering from dementia towards the end of her life, Remi was her therapy dog.  All he really wanted to do was to be petted, and loved on.  Once you started petting Remi, he wouldn’t let you stop.  A gentle nudge from that big ‘ol head meant, “hey, you better keep petting me”!  We are gonna miss that dog.  We loved ‘Ol Remi boy!  Just a good ‘ol boy never meanin’ no harm! -kZ