We've seen them, we've taken them: photos of the baby astride the family Newf or six kids tumbling over the back of the ever-patient dog; Newfies pulling cartloads of kids; Newfies standing patiently with toddlers tugging at their ears; and Newfies swimming with the kids in the river. But have you seen this one: the lone Newf waiting in the pound, head and eyes down, wondering where its kids are, one of whom has a bandage on his hand. From a dog bite.

But Newfs don't bite! Well, Newfs hardly ever bite, but any dog can reach a limit, including a Newfoundland. There have been few reported bites from Newfs, but it does happen.

As the animal control officer explained about the aforementioned Newf in rabies quarantine, "It wasn't the dog's fault, but the law says we have to confine him. The kids were teasing him, hitting him with a shovel. So the dog bit one of them on the hand." The difference here between a Newfoundland and some other breed might only have been the amount of abuse the dog took before he bit and the minor damage he did.

Newfoundlands are known to be good with kids. Think of all those Victorian paintings with wide-eyed children strewing flowers in front of a frolicking Newf; think of Peter Pan's famous Nana, the ultimate governess. But let's look at reality, too.

For example, Mr. and Mrs. Darling are looking for the perfect family dog to look after their three children, Wendy, John and Michael. They have decided on a Newfoundland because of its reputation with children. They contact several breeders and decide their perfect puppy is to come from the Captain Hook Kennels. The Darlings are ecstatic.

For the first few weeks, the Darling family is captivated with the prospective canine babysitter. Nothing in the world is cuter than this puppy bitch, although she is friskier than they had supposed. (Aren't Newfoundlands supposed to be sedentary?) Then the pup begins to grow. The Darlings wait expectantly for their beautiful black Nana to appear, the perfect dog to take care of their perfect family.

But, what is this? The pup has lost her fluffy coat, her legs are gangly, she's beginning to knock stuff off the table and her manners are atrocious. When is she going to become the dog of their dreams?

Then one day the 6-month-old, 75-pound Nana is playing, unsupervised, with 3-year-old Michael in the backyard. Nana jumps on Michael, who holds a tennis ball over his head. Nana knocks Michael down, grabs the ball, a bit of Michael's skin coming with the ball.

Michael screams. Nana runs back to see what the problem is, one back paw grazing a furrow on Michael's forehead. Michael screams again and hits Nana on the hose.

Mrs. Darling rushes from the house and sees what appears to be Nana attacking her child. She pulls the dog off, hits her, ties her up and rushes into the house with wailing Michael. Hours later, Nana is barking furiously in the yard. Mrs. Darling, equally furious, is waiting for her husband to come and "deal with that damned dog."

When Mr. Darling returns home, he wisely tells his family that perhaps the incident is not all Nana's fault. He unties the hysterical puppy, brings her inside and convinces them it will be okay. And so it is, until a few weeks later when Nana's weight increases to 90 pounds and she knocks Michael off the chair he was teetering on as he was trying to steal cookies from the cupboard. More hysteria. More hitting the dog.

Then Wendy brings her friends over to see the pup. Nana is so glad to see them! She runs through the dog door and jumps, her muddy paws leaving glop on their clothes. One girl screams and raises her arms above her head. Nana jumps higher. Mrs. Darling, who has begun thinking of Nana as The Menace, jerks the dog away from the girls. One of Wendy's friends fumes, "You ought to train that dog or get rid of it." True! And guess which is going to happen?

But it won't happen suddenly. Nana will be relegated to the backyard, her days and nights spent in a run. At first, Mr. Darling will take pity on her and take her for walks, but as Nana grows ever larger, the walks become a battle. When Nana is a year old, she weighs 115 pounds, and Mr. Darling's arms are sore from her pulling on the lead. The children cannot control the dog at all. Mrs. Darling hates Nana. When Nana is 14 months old, they put an ad in the paper. They don't particularly care who comes by to take the dog off their hands.

Of course, this could happen to any dog, and too often it does. All dogs must be socialized and trained. The problem is compounded with Newfoundlands, however, because of their size and reputation. Too many buyers expect instant placidity and compliance.

What we all have to do is educate. We must remind parents that no dog should be left unsupervised with very young children, especially a dog that is three times larger than the child. Newfies love to play and romp, and they can inadvertently knock toddlers to the ground. A Newfoundland is not likely to turn and attack a screaming child, but it could happen. We must emphasize that Newfies' basic good temperaments must be coupled with basic good training: an untrained Newf is a menace. Common sense, not sentimentality, should dictate how we deal with dogs.

We don't have to stop telling the public that Newfoundlands are good with children, for they are good with children if they are properly trained and socialized.

But we must stress that Newfoundlands will not automatically save children from fires and drowning, tuck them into bed at night and read them stories. Newfoundlands are dogs. For daycare, hire human beings. Yes. Newfs have often saved kids from peril instinctively, and yes, Newfs will put up with prodding and poking and rough play better than most breeds. But both dogs and children must be trained.

And remember, Victorian children were seen and not heard. Maybe that's why the original Nana had such good luck with them.

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