People aren't the only ones who have enjoyed carefree lazing in the sun on Comfort Island. Topper and other famous dogs were frequent and often long-term visitors in addition to members of the Clark family. Almost every dog ​​who has come to Comfort Island, even for a brief visit, has become familiar with the beach. The beach provides a place where a dog can splash around for a drink, move a little further to cool off on a hot day, or go for a swim with a safe place to hang out afterward. I have never heard of or seen a dog trying to swim to shore or to another island as the distance is considerable and the current is strong near the island except for the area facing the beach . Younger dogs frolic unabashedly on large lawns and thrive when allowed to run free. There are no dog catchers on Comfort Island and leash laws do not apply. It takes a little practice to convince a newcomer that hunting ducks is a dangerous folly. We watch closely to make sure a novice avoids falling into the river in places where it is difficult to get out, and it is sometimes an enlightening experience if he falls in and samples his predicament before being removed and returned to safety. So far, many dogs have enjoyed the place without any tragedy. We have only had one neighbor for most years and there is a considerable buffer between the two main houses on the four-acre island. Their dogs and our dogs never became a nuisance. The first dog was Cap Thomson's "rental dog" dating from the 1880s. I met Cap Thomson in the mid-80s. He boasted, seventy years after the fact, of having rented his dog to his great-grandfather Clark. Cap demonstrated the value of industry, diligence and just plain hard work. U...... middle of paper ......s. He had a sixth sense for knowing when to return to the car. He would jump out of the open window and rest for his next outing. From my point of view, he was a hell of a dog. It was during that irresponsible period of my life, which some say never ended. There was a time when my list of daily tasks and obligations sometimes got lost. Hal looked a lot like “Lassie” from TV fame. I remember little kids whispering things to each other like, “It’s Lassie.” He was a devoted companion throughout the 1970s and early 1980s. Looking back now, I probably loved Hal as much as Dad loved Topper. I often said to Hal in a tone befitting royalty: “You are a dog. » I knew that Hal had reached the gates of the "happy hunting ground" when he became so arthritic that he stopped enjoying his daily walks, and so he died at thirteen.