Chapter 3 Part II-1

A few weeks later, as we were lying in bed reading, Jenny suddenly closed the book and said to me, "Probably nothing." "What could be nothing?" I asked absently, still looking down at the book. "My period is delayed." Her words caught my attention. "Your period? Really?" I turned my face to her. "Sometimes it does. But it's a week too late. And I still think it's weird." "Why is it weird?" "Like I had a mild flu or something. One night, I knocked out a little bit of alcohol, and I kind of felt like throwing up."

"It's not like you." "Just thinking about alcohol makes me sick." "So what do you think—" I began. "I don't know. What do you think?" "How would I know?" "I didn't say anything," Jenny said, "just in case—you know." I realized how important this was going to be to her and to me.We are quietly waiting to become parents in the dark, and we may usher in a little life!We lay there side by side for a long time, not speaking to each other, just staring straight ahead. "Looks like we're going to lose sleep tonight." I finally broke the silence.

“However, the uncertainty is getting too much for me,” she admits. "Come on, get dressed," I said, "let's go to the pharmacy and buy a home pregnancy test kit." We fumbled into shorts, T-shirts, and opened the front door.Marley was bouncing ahead of us, and he was very happy about a late night car ride.He leaned against our little Toyota, prancing up and down on his hind legs, bouncing up and down, his jaw dripping, panting excitedly.When I was about to open the back door, anticipating a big moment, he was absolutely going crazy with excitement. "Looking at the way he's excited makes people think he's the father," I said.When I opened the car door, he jumped into the back seat, and because he was so happy, he pushed too hard, so he slid to the other side of the seat, and his head slammed into the car. On the opposite car window, but apparently not injured.

Pharmacies stay open until midnight.Marley and I waited in the car while Jenny ran into the pharmacy.There are some things people don't buy to keep at home, and home pregnancy test kits top the list.Marley paced the backseat, purring complainingly, his eyes fixed on the front door of the pharmacy.Whenever he got excited--in fact, he was mostly excited when he was waking--he reacted by gasping for air and salivating heavily. "Oh, for God's sake, please be quiet," I told him. "What do you think she's doing in there? To sneak open the back door for us?" Answered, spattered my whole body with saliva and scattered dog hair.We're used to Marley's etiquette in the car, and there's a bath towel on the front seat for emergencies, which I often use to wipe myself and the inside of the car clean. "Sit down," I said, "I think she's going to get back in the car."

Five minutes later, Jenny returned with a small bag in her hand.As we pulled out of the parking lot, Marley wedged his shoulders between the bucket seats of our small hatchback, balancing his front paws on the main console. body, nose touching the rearview mirror.Every turn we dropped him, chest first, onto the emergency brake.And after each fall, instead of feeling embarrassed at all, he was happier, and then he would stand up again staggeringly. A few minutes later, we're back in the family bathroom, and an eight-dollar, ninety-nine-cent pregnancy test kit is spread out by the sink.I read the instructions aloud. "Ok," I said, "the instructions are 99 percent accurate. The first thing you need to do is pee in this cup." The next step is to put a membrane Place the shaped pregnancy test strip into your urine, and then into the solution in a vial that came with the kit. "Wait five minutes," I said, "then, we put the pregnancy test strip in the second bottle of solution and let it soak for fifteen minutes. If the pregnancy test strip turns blue, then you are definitely pregnant!"

We spent the first five minutes restlessly.Jenny then put the pregnancy test into the second solution bottle and said, "I can't stand standing here waiting for the results." We went into the bedroom and chatted casually, pretending that what we were waiting for was unimportant, like waiting for a pot of water to boil.However, my heart was pounding hard, and my stomach was filled with a nervous feeling of dread.If a pregnancy test comes back positive, our lives will be changed forever.If the result is negative, then Jenny will suffer a heavy blow.The fifteen minutes of waiting seemed like a lifetime.The timed alarm clock finally rang. "Time's up, let's go in," I said to Jenny, "whatever the outcome, you know, I love you."

I went to the bathroom and fished the pregnancy test out of the bottle.Definitely, blue!Blue like the deep sea.A dark, rich deep blue.A blue that cannot be confused with any other color. "Congratulations, honey!" I said excitedly. And Jenny was so excited that she didn't know what to say, she could only answer: "Oh, my God!" Then she threw herself into my arms. We stood by the pool like this, hugging each other, eyes closed, and gradually, I became aware of a commotion under our feet.I looked down and there was Marley standing there, bobbing his body, bobbing his head up and down, his tail beating so hard on the linen closet door that I thought there might be a dent in the door. mark.When I crouched down to hug him, he ducked away.Wow!Turns out he did the "Malimambo," and that can only mean one thing.

"What did you take this time?" I asked, and started running after him.He jogged into the bedroom with long strides, weaving so I couldn't catch him.When I finally cornered him and snapped his jaw open, I saw nothing at first.Then, at the base of his tongue, I found something.Membranous, slender, flat, and the color is that kind of deep sea blue.I reached in and pulled out our positive pregnancy test. "Sorry to disappoint you, friend," I said, "but this is going to go in the scrapbook as a keepsake." Jenny and I started laughing out loud and for a long time.We had a lot of fun wondering what was going on in his big, short, sturdy head at the moment. "Well, if I destroy the evidence, maybe they'll forget about this unfortunate episode, and I won't have to share my castle with an intruder after all."

Jenny then grabbed Marley's front paws, put him on his hind legs, and danced with him around the house. "You're going to be an uncle!" she sings.And Marley responded in his trademark fashion—suddenly lunging at her and sticking his big, wet tongue to her lips. The next day, Jenny called me at work.Her voice was filled with uncontrollable excitement.It turned out that she had just returned from a clinic where the doctor had officially confirmed the results of our home tests. "He said everything was fine," she said. Last night we were counting down the calendar trying to pinpoint the exact date of conception.She was worried because she was pregnant when we went on a frenzied flea operation a few weeks ago, and she was completely exposed to unhealthy insecticides with no protection.She told her doctor about her concerns, and he said there was probably nothing wrong.Just stop using those chemicals, he suggested.He prescribed her some pregnancy vitamins and told her to come back to the clinic in three weeks for an ultrasound scan, an electronic image that would allow us to see the fetus in Jenny's womb.

“He wanted us to definitely take a videotape,” she said, “so we could keep our copy for the kids.” On the calendar on my desk, I make a mark. Some natives will tell you that Florida has four seasons, and they admit that although the four seasons are less distinct, there are still subtle seasonal changes.Don't believe what they say.In fact, there are only two seasons here - a warm, dry season and a hot, wet season.It was only then that we had the sweltering heat of the tropics the night before when it dawned on us that our puppy was no longer a puppy.As winter quickly turns to summer, Marley seems to rapidly transform into a lanky adult dog.At five months old, his body, covered in oversized yellow hair, had grown into a sagging, wrinkled appearance.His giant claws don't look so ridiculous anymore as part of his body.His needle-like young teeth have also grown into impressive fangs, capable of crushing a frisbee, or a brand new shoe, after a quick burst of gnashing.And his barking deepened into a terrifying roar.When he stands on his hind legs and wobbles in circles—a routine he does like a dancing Russian circus bear—he can put his front paws on Over our shoulders, looking straight into my eyes.

The first time the vet saw him, he let out a soft whistle and said, "You've got a big boy in your hands." As we speak, he has grown into a handsome model Labrador, and I have to point out to a skeptical Ms. Jenny that my official name for him is really It is very suitable for his current state.The Honorable Marley Churchill of Jeroghan, Churchill Road, would be the best definition of the word 'Exalted' if he could stop chasing his tail in circles.Sometimes, when he had exhausted the last of his energy and stopped running, he would lie on the Persian rug in his bedroom, basking in the sunlight streaming in through the curtains.With his head slightly raised, his nose gleaming, and his paws crossed in front of his body, he reminds us of the Egyptian Sphinx. We're not the only ones who have noticed the change.We can tell from the strangers who keep a safe distance from him and the instinctive recoil when he jumps up that they no longer see him as a little dog who can't do anyone harm up.To them, he had grown into something to be feared. Our front door has a small rectangular window at eye level, four inches wide by eight inches long.Marley seemed to live for visitors, galloping through the house whenever someone rang the doorbell, slamming on the brakes as he approached the hall, and gliding through the house. Crossing the wooden floor, he didn't stop until he hit the door with a "bang".Then, he jumped up on his hind legs, barked savagely, and put his huge head on the small window, looking straight at a face on the other side of the window.It's a cheerful prelude to Marley, who sees himself as a resident welcome car.Although to door-to-door salesmen, postmen, and anyone who didn't know him, he seemed like a monster out of a Stephen King novel, and the only thing standing between them was The wooden door of our house.More than one stranger, after ringing the doorbell and seeing Marley's snarling face looking straight at them, backed away into the middle of the driveway, and then, still in shock, dared to stand in the driveway Waiting for me or Jenny to come and answer the door. We've found that this isn't necessarily a bad thing either. Our house is what urban planners call a changing neighborhood.Built in the 1940s and 1950s, the original occupants were "snowbirds" and retirees. When the original owners passed away, the house began to be rented by some more mixed tenants. Lenders and working-class families took over.By the time we moved in, the neighborhood was once again in transition, this time with a change in urban ownership by the middle class, gays, artists and young professionals, moving closer to the marina and its quirky , Areas with decorative style buildings. Our neighborhood acts as a buffer between the American Southern highways and the trendy homes along the docks.The highways of the southern states, originally built along Florida's east coast, served as the main thoroughfare to Miami long before the advent of interstate highways.It has five one-way lanes, one sun-drenched sidewalk, with a shared left-turn lane in each direction, and is lined with slightly shabby, less than decent loan stores, gas stations, fruit stands , trucking companies, diner restaurants, and mom-and-pop hotels that seem to be from a bygone era. On the four corners of Southern Highway and Churchill Road are a liquor store, a twenty-four-hour convenience store, a valuables store with thick bars across the windows, and an open-air coin laundromat.And our house is located in the middle of the block. We originally thought that this area might be safer, but some bad signs appeared one after another.The tools in the yard were gone, and one very cold day, someone stole all the firewood sticks I had piled up on both sides of the house.We were having breakfast on Sunday at our favorite diner, sitting by the window at our usual table, and Jenny pointed to a bullet hole in the thick glass above us and said flatly : "The last time we were here, the bullet hole wasn't there yet." One morning, as I was driving out of the block to go to work, I found a man lying in the gutter with his hands and face bloodied.I parked my car and ran to him, thinking he might have been hit by a car.However, when I squatted beside him, a stench of alcohol and urine was about to overwhelm me, and when he spoke, I was sure he was just drunk .I called the emergency services and asked them to send an ambulance and waited with this man, but when the staff arrived, he refused to treat him.The paramedics and I just stood by and watched as the drunken guy staggered to his feet and walked towards the liquor store. A man exuding desperation came to my door one evening and told me he was visiting a house on the next block and that his car was out of gas and asked if I could lend him five. Dollars, the first thing he will do tomorrow morning is to return the money to me. "Are you sure, friend?" I thought to myself.When I offered to call the police for him, he mumbled a completely unconvincing reason and ran away. But the most disturbing news came from a house across the street.We heard that there had been a murder there just a few months before we moved here.And not just an ordinary murder, but a grisly, heinous murder of a disabled widow dismembered with a chainsaw.Because of the overwhelming media coverage of the case, we knew every detail of the case—every detail, except where it happened—before we moved here.Now, we live in a house just one street away from the scene of the crime. The victim, a retired school teacher named Ruth Ann Nedmill, discovered that her caretaker had stolen her checkbook and that her bank account had been filled with inexplicable charges.After the crime was revealed, the panicked nurse beat the poor woman to death with a bludgeon, then called her boyfriend, who brought a chainsaw, and the two of them took the body in the bathtub to death. Dismembered.Then, they packed the pieces of the body into a large box, washed the woman's blood in the gutter with water, and then drove away. Our neighbors later told us that Mrs Nedmere's disappearance went unnoticed for several days.It wasn't until a man called the police to report a horrible stench emanating from his garage that the secret was finally exposed.The police found the big box and the horrific contents inside.When they asked the owner why the box was there, he told them the truth: his daughter asked him if he could store the box there. Although the grisly murder of Mrs. Nedmere was the most talked about event in the history of our neighborhood, no one mentioned it to us when we were ready to buy the house. The case, even if it is just a few words.Not the estate agent, not the homeowner, not the local policeman, not the surveyor.During our first week in our new house, neighbors came to visit us with cookies and baking trays, and they tactfully broke the news.As we lay in bed at night, it was hard not to think that, just a hundred paces from our bedroom window, a defenseless widow had been sawn to pieces.We told ourselves that this was a crime committed by insiders, and that such a thing would never happen to us.However, when we pass by the house where the crime took place, or simply look out of our front windows, we can't help but think about the horrors that took place there. Fortunately, now that Marley is by our side, we feel a long-lost peace when we realize that the strangers are looking at him with a little fear in their eyes.He's a big, drooling dog, so his defense against intruders is to lick them furiously until he's overwhelmed.However, the thieves and marauders out there didn't need to know this about him. To them, Marley was big, powerful, and often slipped into unpredictable states of madness.That's why we like him so much. Pregnancy has made Jenny's lifestyle habits very healthy.She would get up at dawn, start exercising, and take Marley out for a walk.She also prepares wholesome wholesome meals with fresh fruits and vegetables.She gave up caffeine, soda, and, of course, alcohol, and she wouldn't even let me put a tablespoon of soju in the crock. We swore not to announce the pregnancy until we were sure the fetus was safe and there was no risk of miscarriage.However, neither of us managed to do that.We were so excited that we broke the news to one confidant after another and asked them to be sworn to secrecy until our secret ceased to be a secret at all.First, we told our parents, then our siblings, then our closest friends, then our office colleagues, and finally our neighbors.At the tenth week, Jenny's belly had begun to bulge slightly.The pregnancy thing is starting to look a little real.Why don't we share our happiness with the whole world?When the day came when Jenny was due for an exam and an ultrasound scan, we almost wanted to scribble it on an outdoor bulletin board: John and Jenny were expecting a baby. When the day came for my doctor's appointment, I took time off work and, as instructed by the doctor, brought a blank videotape so we could capture our first grainy images of our little one.The content of the appointment is part physical examination and part information interview.We will be scheduled to meet with a midwife who will answer any questions we have, measure Jenny's belly, listen to the baby's heartbeat and, of course, show us what the baby looks like inside the mother. We arrived at the clinic at nine o'clock in the morning, full of anticipation.The midwife, a mild-mannered, middle-aged woman with a British accent, ushered us into a small examination room and immediately asked, "Do you want to hear the baby's heartbeat?" Why wouldn't you want to?" we told her.We listened intently as she placed an amplifier with a hanging speaker on Jenny's stomach.We sat there in silence, smiles frozen on our faces, trying to hear the faint heartbeat, but all that came from the speakers was random noise. The nurse said it was nothing unusual. "Whether you can hear the heartbeat or not depends on how the baby is lying down. Sometimes you can't hear anything. It might be too early to hear the heartbeat." She told us to go straight to the ultrasound. "Let's take a look at your little baby," she said lightly. "This is the first time we've seen the baby!" Jenny said, staring at me deeply.The midwife took us into the ultrasound room and laid Jenny on her back on a table with a monitor behind it. "I brought a tape," I said, waving the tape in front of her twice. The midwife pulled Jenny's shirt up and began placing an instrument the size and shape of a hockey puck on her abdomen, saying, "Hold this position now." We stared at the computer screen, only to find it Just a blob of gray with no clarity. "Well, this one doesn't seem to be picking up anything," she said in a completely unemotional voice. "Let's try a transvaginal ultrasound so you can see in more detail." She left the room and after a while she came in with another nurse.It was a tall, fair-skinned, blond woman with monograms painted on her fingernails.Her name is Essie.She made Jenny take off her panties, and inserted a latex-covered probe into her vagina.The nurse is right: This method is indeed far more advanced than other ultrasounds.She pans the camera over what appears to be a small liquid sac in a gray ocean, zooms in on it with a click of the mouse, and zooms in again.But even with more detail, the sac looks to us like an empty, shapeless sock.Where are those little arms and calves that should be slightly formed by the tenth week that pregnancy books say?Where is the little head of the fetus?Where is the beating heart?Jenny, who was stretching her neck aside and looking at the screen, was still full of anticipation, and asked the nurse with a nervous smile, "Is there anything there?" I looked up into Essie's face, and I knew the answer wasn't the one we wanted to hear.Suddenly, I realized why she was silent when she clicked the mouse to enlarge the image."At ten weeks, you can't expect to see anything," she said to Jenny in a restrained voice. I put my hand on Jenny's lap.We both continued to stare at the lump on the screen as if we wanted to stay that way for the rest of our lives. "Jenny, I think we might have a problem now," Essie said, "I'll get Dr. Sherman." As we waited in silence, I finally understood what it meant when people described being attacked by swarms of locusts before they fainted.I felt the blood all over my body rushed to the top of my head, and bursts of humming echoed in my ears. "If I don't sit down now," I thought, "then I'm going to fall." How embarrassing it would be!My strong wife endured the news while her husband lay unconscious on the floor as nurses tried to bring him back to consciousness with nasal salts.I sat on the edge of the examination bench, holding Jenny's hand tightly with one hand and wrapping my other arm around her neck.Tears welled up in her eyes, but she didn't cry out. Dr. Sherman was a slender, peculiar-looking man with a hoarse voice but a very kind demeanor.He confirmed that the fetus had died. "We can look at the heartbeat and there's no doubt it's dead," he said.He gently told us some of what we already knew from the books we had read.The fetus died in the sixth week of pregnancy.This is what happens naturally to weak, stunted, unformed fetuses.Apparently remembering Jenny's concerns about the flea spray, he told us that the fetal death had nothing to do with our flea removal.He put his hand on Jenny's cheek and leaned over as if to kiss her. "I'm sorry," he said, "You can try to conceive again in a few months." We sat there in silence.That blank videotape sitting on the bench next to us suddenly seemed like an incredible embarrassment too, a poignant reminder of our blind, naive optimism.I want to throw it away, I want to hide it.I asked the doctor, "So what should we do now?" "We had to remove the placenta," he replied, "Years ago, you wouldn't have known you were going to have a miscarriage, or you wouldn't have waited until the bleeding started to realize." He said we could wait until after the weekend and come back on Monday for the procedure, which is the same as an abortion, where the fetus and placenta are sucked out of the womb.But Jenny doesn't want delays, and neither do I. "The sooner the better," she said. "Well, then, I'll come back later." Dr. Sherman said and left the room.We could hear his footsteps down the hall into another exam room, and the boisterous sound of him greeting another mother-to-be with a good-natured laugh. Now, Jenny and I were the only ones left in the room. We fell heavily in each other's arms and kept this posture until there was a light knock on the door.This time an older woman, whom we hadn't seen before, came in with a waiver acknowledging the risks of uterine suction cup surgery. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," she said to Jenny, "I'm really sorry." Then she pointed out to Jenny where she should sign her name. When Dr. Sherman returned to the examination room, he had everything in place.He injected Jenny with diazepam first, and then Demerol (painkiller). If there is no painkiller, the process will be very fast.He completed the operation before the medicine wore off.When it was all over, Jenny lay there almost unconscious, as if the sedatives and painkillers were still taking effect. "Make sure she doesn't stop breathing," said the doctor, and he walked out of the room.I can't believe it.Wasn't it his job to make sure she didn't stop breathing?The waiver she signed never said: "Due to an overdose of barbiturates, the patient may stop breathing at any time." I did as I was told - spoke to her aloud , rubbing her arm, patting her cheek lightly, saying things like "Hi Jenny! What's my name?"However, she seemed to have lost her perception of the world. After a few minutes, Essie poked her head in and looked at us.She caught a glimpse of Jenny's bloodless face and left the room as fast as she could, returning a short time later with a wet washcloth and nose salts, which she put on Jenny's under the nose.After a long time, Jenny's body began to move a little.I continued talking to her loudly, telling her to take a deep breath.Her skin is gray.I found her pulse was sixty beats per minute.I nervously covered her forehead, cheeks, and neck with a wet towel, and patted her gently.Finally, she regained consciousness, though she was still dazed. "You worry me to death!" I said.She just looked at me blankly, as if trying to figure out why I was so worried.Then, she passed out again. An hour and a half later, the nurse helped her get dressed, and then I helped her out of the clinic, keeping in mind the doctor's instructions: for the next two weeks, no bathing, no swimming, no tampons, Can't have sex. In the car, Jenny remained silent, leaning against the door next to the passenger seat, staring out the window.Her eyes were red, but she was not crying.I tried to say something comforting, but I couldn't find the right words.Really, what can be said?We just lost our baby.Yes, I can tell her that we were able to try again and I can tell her that many couples go through the same thing.But she didn't want to hear those words, and I didn't want to say them either.Someday we will be able to put this matter in perspective.But not today. I took the scenic route home, around the Flegrei Expressway.The expressway hugs the pier area of ​​West Palm Beach from the northern end of town, where the doctor's office is located, and we live on the southern end of town.The water shimmers, and the palm trees sway gracefully under the cloudless blue sky.It should be a happy day, but it's not ours.We drove home in silence. When we got to the residence, I helped Jenny into the house and laid her on the couch, and then I went into the garage, where Marley was waiting, panting and expectant as usual, for our return.As soon as he saw me, he threw himself on his huge ox bone and paraded it triumphantly around the room.His body was wagging, and his tail thumped on the washing machine like a mallet beating a drum. "Not today, friend," I said, and let him go out into the yard by the back door.He took a long pee on a loquat tree, then quickly returned to the garage, poked his head into his bowl of water, and gulped, splashing water all over the place. everywhere.Then he went crookedly to find Jenny in the living room.I quickly locked the back door, wiped off the water splashed by him, and followed him into the bedroom. When I turned the corner, I stopped suddenly.I can bet a week's salary that the impossible is unfolding before my eyes.Our frantic, overexcited dog was crouching now between Jenny's knees, his big, short, wiry head resting peacefully on her lap.His tail hung flat between his legs, and as far as I can remember, it was the first time he touched me or Jenny without swaying.He looked directly at her and whimpered softly.Jenny stroked his head, then suddenly buried her face in the thick hair on his neck and began to sob, hard, uncontrollable, heartbroken. They stayed like that for a long time.Marley was as still as a statue, and Jenny clung to him as if she were holding an oversized doll.I stood at a distance, feeling like a voyeur of the two of them's intimate solitary moment, and I didn't know what to do with myself.Jenny raised an arm towards me, and her face was still buried in Marley's hair, and she didn't lift it, so I sat down on the couch and put my arm around her.我们三个就那样待着，互相拥抱着，分担着悲伤。 第二天是周六，一大早，天刚破晓我便醒来了，发现詹妮躺在床的另一侧，背对着我，轻声地哭泣着。马利也醒来了，他把下巴搁在床垫上，再一次满怀同情地注视着他的女主人。我起身去冲泡咖啡，榨鲜橙汁，取报纸，烤面包。当詹妮几分钟之后穿着睡袍出来的时候，她的眼睛已经擦干了，她朝我努力挤出了一个勇敢的笑容，似乎想说她现在已经没事了。 早饭之后，我们决定将马利溜到码头去游泳。在我们邻近地区的海滨，有一道巨大而坚固的防波堤，并且堆砌了许多土石堆，以防止海水蔓延到岸上。但是，假如你往南走六个街区的话，那么你会发现，防波堤蜿蜒到了陆地上，暴露出了一小块白色的沙滩，上面布满了浮木——这块地方对于一只狗去嬉戏玩耍来说真是太完美了。当我们到达了这片小小的沙滩上时，我在马利的面前晃动着一根木棍，然后把套在他脖子上的皮链子解开了。他直直地盯着木棍，犹如一个饥肠辘辘的人正注视着一块面包，他目不转睛地看着自己的战利品。“去拿吧！”我叫喊道，然后尽可能远地将木棍投掷到了水中。他用漂亮的一跃跳过了用混凝土修筑的围墙，飞奔到海滩上，跳进了浅水区，弄得水花四溅。这是拉布拉多猎犬天生便具有的本领。这得归因于它们的基因以及它们的工作种类。 没有人可以确定拉布拉多猎犬的发源地是在何处，但有一点是可以肯定的：并不是在拉布拉多。这些肌肉发达的、短毛的、会潜水的狗，于十七世纪初叶最早出现于距加拿大纽芬兰的拉布拉多以南的几百英里的地方。在那儿，早期的游记作者们发现，当地的渔民们驾着平底小船，带着这些狗出海捕鱼，充分地利用它们来拖拉渔网以及咬下吊钩上的鱼。这些狗稠密而油滑的毛皮，使得它们不会被冰冷的海水损伤，而且，它们那强有力的游泳本领、无穷的精力以及将鱼儿轻柔地含在嘴中而不会令其有所损害的能力，使它们成为了在北大西洋那艰苦的环境之下十分理想的工作犬。 人们一直猜测着这些狗究竟是如何来到纽芬兰的。它们并不是这片岛屿的本土种类，而且也没有证据表明是那些最早到这一地区来定居的早期的爱斯基摩人将这些狗一同带来的。最好的说法则是：这些能叼回猎物的猎犬的先祖是被来自欧洲和不列颠的渔民们带到纽芬兰的，这些渔民中许多人是弃船潜逃，然后在沿岸定居下来，建立起了社区。现在以拉布拉多猎犬闻名的那些狗的祖先们，或许便是从那儿通过无心且无序的杂交繁育而进化发展起来的。 这些令人吃惊的能叼回猎物的猎犬，不久便被岛上的猎人们迫使着担负起了叼回猎鸟和猎禽的任务。在1662年，纽芬兰圣约翰的一位名叫W?E?科麦克的当地人，徒步穿越了这片岛屿，并且对当地潜水狗的庞大数量进行了记录，他发现这些狗“被很好地训练成了捕野禽的猎犬……在其他方面也非常有用” 。英国贵族们最终注意到了这种奇特的狗，到了十九世纪早期的时候，他们便开始将这些狗进口到英国，给运动员们用来追捕雏鸟、松鸡和鹌鹑。 成立于1931年的拉布拉多猎犬俱乐部，致力于保护这一种类的完整性，这是一个由那些对这种狗爱好成癖的人们所发起的全国性的团体。根据他们的说法，拉布拉多猎犬这一名称，大约开始于十九世纪三十年代，当时，马尔麦斯伯利伯爵三世在给巴克纽奇公爵七世的信中，滔滔不绝地谈论起他那只优秀的运动猎犬。“我们总是称呼他为我的拉布拉多犬。”他写道。就从那时开始，这一名称便约定俗成了。这位好心的伯爵注明说，他“尽其所能地保持着这一种类的血统的纯正”。但是，其他人对于遗传学并不会如他那样虔诚，他们随心所欲地用其他的猎犬来和拉布拉多犬进行交配，希望其优良的品质能够转移到其他的种类身上去。拉布拉多犬的基因被证明是不可征服的，而且，在1903年7月7日，拉布拉多猎犬作为一种独特的种类属性，成功地获得了英国养狗俱乐部的权威认定。 一位热心的拉布拉多犬的长期饲养者B?W?兹尔索，在给拉布拉多猎犬俱乐部的信中写道：“美国的运动员们接纳了这一来自于英国的种类，并且随后发展和训练了这种狗去满足这个国家狩猎的需求。今天，就同过去一样，拉布拉多犬仍然会急切地跳入明尼苏达州那冰冷的海水中，去取回一只被射中的鸟儿；他会在西南部的炎热气候中工作一整天，去捕猎鸽子，而他如此卖力的工作所获得的唯一奖赏，便是主人对他的一个轻轻拍打。” 这便是马利那值得骄傲的传统，而且，看上去他至少继承了这一天资的一半，因为他在追赶猎物方面堪称是一个专家。此话反过来说的意思便是，他似乎并不会去抓住那个猎物。他的普遍姿态似乎便是：“如果你希望那根木棍回来的话，那么你自己跳进海水里去捡好了。” 他风尘仆仆地回到海滩上，牙齿间叼着他的战利品。“把它带到这儿来！”我对他喊道，拍着手掌，“过来，孩子，把它给我！”他后足立地跳跃起来，他的整个身体兴奋地摇摆着，水和沙子也迅速地溅了我一身。然后，令我吃惊的是，他把木棍放到了我的脚下。“喔，”我心想，“这么听话，难道是想换取什么奖励吗？”我回头望望詹妮，她正坐在澳洲松树下面的一张长椅上，我冲她满意地翘了翘拇指。可是，当我伸手想拾起那根木棍的时候，马利却蓄势待发了。他一个猛扑，叼走了木棍，然后用一种疯狂的速度飞奔着穿过了海滩。他突然转向，跑了回来，几乎要撞到我的身上了。原来他在对我进行挑衅，希望能激我去追赶他。我朝他突然冲了过去，但是，很显然，他的速度和敏捷远在我之上。“你应该是一只拉布拉多猎犬！”我大声叫道，“而不是一只拉布拉多逃避犬！” 但是，我在有些方面拥有进化不良的马利所不具备的智慧，而他仅仅只是肌肉比我略为发达些罢了。我抓起了第二根木棍，然后将其夸张地耍弄起来。我将木棍举过头顶，然后从一只手中丢到另一只手中，来回交替着。我将木棍从一边摆动到另一边。我能够看出，马利的决意已经开始软化下来。突然，他嘴里咬着的那根木棍，几秒钟以前还是他所能想象到的这个世界上最珍贵的所有物，已经失去了它的纪念价值，而我手中的这根木棍对他的吸引力，就像一个衣着暴露的女人对一个男人所具有的魅惑力一样。他蹑手蹑脚地朝我慢慢靠拢过来，直到他站到了离我只有寸步之遥的地方。“哦，每天都有笨鸟出生，不是吗，马利？”我“咯咯”地笑起来，将木棍在他的面前晃来晃去，他却努力想让木棍保持在自己的视线之内，所以他的眼珠子紧跟着木棍来回地转动，几乎都快成对视眼了。