My aunt and uncle had a Newf when I was a kid. Her name was Katie. She was sort of quiet and watchful, but friendly. They lived on a lake, and whenever we’d jump off the dock into the water, she’d come bounding in after us and wouldn’t leave us alone until we grabbed hold of her, and she’d swim for shore. It turned into a game, a whole bunch of us would get towed around in the water by that one tremendous, sweet dog.
My aunt was so distraught, she’s never had another dog, when Katie went into shock and died while being spayed. She still sheds a tear for her on occasion, and it’s been thirty years.
Sounds like the pup knew its purpose. I have a 14 month old border collie/Aussie shepherd mix, and she knows her purpose for sure. We take her to the park, and she herds the other dogs. Round and round she’ll circle the pack. Dogs are happiest when they’re doing what they were bred to do.