Salty
Our last dog died just before we went out into the Pacific. We used to cruise with our Newfoundland, Salty, a 200+ lb companion. He hated the boat, but hated being left in kennels worse. If we said the word "boat", he went to the door and waited for us. He was a wonderful mate. He loved the places we went.The companionship came with a price. He took up the room that a human would, and we could not keep him out of the water. We carried several towels to dry him off (the water never got to his skin due to the oil in his fur) but he smelled like "wet dog" most of the time. You had to love dogs. We had to keep the passages under six hours because we could not convince him that "potty" was OK on the vessel. Mats meant nothing to him. After being under way for few hours he would stare balefully at passing land; fortunately he never learned to dive from the boat. His usual position was at the helmsman's feet - which was OK until he stuck his head through the spokes.Getting him to and from shore was usually by dinghy, an 8' Sportyak. I'd rig a collapsing ladder on one side and pull the dinghy alonside. Then I would hold his leash firmly, while I was in the dinghy, and then hold up on the leash as he jumped into the dinghy. (Someone always had to restrain him while I got into the dinghy.) When we returned to the vessel (a C&C-38)I would pull alonside and brace the ladder as he stood and placed his forepaws on the deck. Then I would hook an arm behind him and push a little as he climbed the ladder. We never did fall.I have to restrain myself any time I meet puppies, but times have changed. The street we live on now has a house on almost every lot, instead of just three. Any animal we buy will not have the freedom that Salty had. We like big dogs, but not everyone else does.