Vantage Studio Story Time

Fluffy tan and white dog looking sideways against a black background, surrounded by colorful floating soap bubbles.
Silhouette of a person kneeling on a sandy beach at sunset, gently touching foreheads with a large fluffy white dog lying in the sand.

RIVER WAS A GUARDIAN.

HE WATCHED OVER ONE PERSON AND EVERY NEIGHBOR. NOBODY EVER ASKED HIM TO.


Christine had never considered a Great Pyrenees. Then a friend in South Carolina spotted two of them at a shelter near Myrtle Beach, and one of them caught her eye. She drove all the way from Rhode Island to meet him. His name was already River. When she looked into his eyes, there was something almost telepathic between them. She had found her soul dog.


River weighed 120 pounds and moved through the world with the calm of a soft rock singer.

Christine always thought that’s what he’d be if he were human: a blues singer with hypnotic eyes and quite a following. He made a big entrance, too. River announced himself with plenty of barking, and when he was really excited, he bounced like Tigger.


His official title was The Guardian. His territory: Christine and every neighbor in sight. He took the job seriously.

The vacuum was considered a direct threat, so River would sit in front of Christine and whine until it was gone, just in case it attacked her.

Grooming, on the other hand, he simply endured. He was politely tolerant. Every

day when Christine came home from work, River was waiting at the door.  She’d

say “Big hug!” and wrap her arms around him. Then they’d do it again.

Four or five times, every time.


Christine’s favorite memory: one day on a walk, a school bus for children with

special needs stopped beside them. One child wanted to pet River.

Then they all did. One by one, every student came off the bus to meet him,

and River stood perfectly gentle, absolutely in heaven.


His happiest places were the beach and the car, as long as Christine was with him.

This fall, River was diagnosed with bone cancer. After his leg was amputated,

Christine knew it was time. So on his last evening, we went to the beach in Westerly, his favorite place, and photographed River at sunset. We both cried through the whole session. It was also one of the most

beautiful things I have ever been part of.

The next day, Christine said goodbye.

Six neighbors came over that day to say goodbye to him too.


Christine says River made her feel safe and loved, got her out of the house, and introduced her to the whole neighborhood. Living with River, she says, meant security and love.

He guarded her for his whole life. Now she has his sunset to keep forever.


Every dog has a story. Let's tell yours.

A woman with long brown hair hugs a fluffy white Great Pyrenees dog with its tongue out, beside the ocean at sunset.