Boating With A Black Brindled Behemoth By Carol-Ann Giroday   Most people do not believe us when we tell them we live on a 40-foot boat with a 120-pound mastiff on board. Once we assure them that it is indeed true, the next question usually is, “Why don’t you get a smaller dog?” Herein lies the story of why . The quick reasons are these: We never have to worry about an eagle carrying our small “pony” off the bow of our boat in its talons. We do not have to worry about pirates boarding our vessel when we are not on board. Jumping up and onto rocky shorelines does not require any assistance from us. Our big girl needs to go to shore as often as a Pomeranian or a poodle. In fact, our dog’s bladder is substantially large, of course, and can hold out for up to 12 hours in a pinch. Another big advantage is the attention she attracts. My two sons call her a “chick magnet.” My husband, Rick, and I have met many great people because of our dog! Everywhere we go people stop to ask questions about her: “What kind of dog is she?” A rare breed Italian mastiff called a cane corso. “How much does she weigh?” She is 120 pounds. “How much does she eat?!” Surprisingly, our galley helper only eats five cups of dry food per day and is forbidden human cuisine. “Is she friendly?” After she has leaned up against you for a back rub you will have the answer to that one. We often say that our dog has more friends then we do. While walking her around a marina, people have stopped and said, “Hello, Kona,” without taking any notice of me. They may have met her the day before when Rick took her for her outing—she is not easily forgotten! Once you’ve petted her velvet black ears and stroked her silky coat, or felt the weight of her body while petting her massive muscular form (especially if she accidentally puts her big paw on one of your feet), you wouldn’t forget her either. She is a gentle giant; agile, intelligent, and extremely loveable. Travel Companion Kona travels well with us, as long as the sea is not rough. When that happens, she stands in the saloon and pants. If the weather gets really bad, I usually lay down in the saloon and she then lays on top of me for reassurance, which, as I’m sure you can imagine, makes for an even more unpleasant ride. While under way on a bright sunny day, she is happy to sit out on the bow, hang her head over the side, and watch the sea go by. If another boat passes nearby, she seems to be able to read the waves and knows when we are going to be rocked about by the passing wake. She will either quickly move back inside the boat through the pilothouse doors or crouch down low until the rocking motion has ceased. Although I said she is able to hold on for up to 12 hours between shore leaves, there have been times when we have had to make emer...

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