Mastiff People

In my previous post, I spoke about my specific experiences with Huan in order to testify to universally agreed upon characteristics of the breed. What follows is a more personal account of why I, in particular, am so drawn to the Mastiff in general:

1.  I love all animals. I respect all dogs. But I am not a Poodle or Pomeranian person. At all. Those breeds are just not what I, personally, envision when I think of dog. (Connotations that immediately come to mind include pretty, prissy, pompous, the Paris Hiltons of the canine species.) I am also a person who operates in extremes. What is the complete antithesis of a Poodle and a Pomeranian? A Mastiff. Hands down.

2.  I am a fan of irony. Always have been. I lift some relatively heavy weights wearing bright pink Converse, for example. (And they have purple shoelaces.) It would stand to reason that I would gravitate toward the oxymoronic gentle giant--all the more so because I am 5 ft. nothing and about half its size.

3.  I am a spazz. Not in my interactions with people or beings who are in some way subordinate to or dependent on me, for example dogs, students, baby (because that would violate everything I actually believe about raising and rearing animals and kids), but in just about every other arena and aspect of life. I am constantly in a rush, though I am always early for everything. I drive a bazillion miles an hour and suffer from what could very well be a clinical case of road rage. I have post-it notes everywhere, including, God help me, on my cell phone (yes, there’s an app). I am constantly doing, moving, thinking, exercising. And Mastiffs, as I have already demonstrated, are remarkably and refreshingly mellow, so much so that one may feel inclined to check for a pulse every now and then. I’d like to think a Mastiff needs a little of me in its life as much as I need a little Mastiff in mine. OK, well the latter is definitely true.

4.  I am a go-big-or-go-home type of girl, and I am sure that’s no shocker at this point (see #1). I like a good challenge. And is there a bigger challenge than a relatively small female raising a giant breed of dog and raising him well? Here’s the thing: I loved Huan. He was my baby, my baby. BUT, let’s face it, he needed to know, from the get-go, who was boss. Again, by 7 months of age, he weighed what I weigh currently. Did we go to obedience school? Sure. Play groups for socialization? Yep. But I don’t believe in just conventional “training.” I believe in ways of being. To say I am a Cesar Milan disciple is both understated and partially inaccurate, insofar as I am borderline fanatical, but not exactly a follower. His philosophies and approach to dog rearing are spot-on-consistent with my natural personality and inclinations. In the human / dog relationship, I believe in packs and pack leaders. Consistency and firmness and calm assertiveness. Challenges and accountability. “Exercise, discipline, affection”…in that order. I believe in loving dogs but in treating them also as dogs. I believe we humans owe them that much, not designer handbags and cute sweaters. That’s not what they want or need. And if that’s all we afford them, or even primarily what we provide them, that, I think, is when people have problems with aggression, leash pulling, anxiety, food begging, and the like--problems that ostensibly appear to be the dog’s but really are, in fact, the owner’s. And when such problems manifest themselves in a small dog, well, many people deem them innocuous, even cute…“Awwww! Look at the little Cockapoo act like Cujo! How funny!” Cujo in a Mastiff, by mere virtue of its size, could never be deemed cute. Cujo in a Mastiff is fatal. Even that which would be considered benign behavior in smaller breed, like leash pulling, is dangerous in a giant breed. Granted, I think it unfair and ridiculous that people are more tolerant of inappropriate behavior in smaller breeds than they are in giant breeds—and I can guarantee that if I were ever to own a small dog I would raise him as if he were a Mastiff. But I will never own a small dog. Again, I like a challenge, one as big as a Mastiff itself.

My first Mastiff was Huan. He very well may be my last. I think about this often, actually. Will I ever have another dog? Could I get another Mastiff, or would that be a betrayal to Huan and his memory? How much of Huan was Huan? My influence? His breed, specifically? His species, generally? Yes, I am a Mastiff person. But I may be even more of a Bubba person. And there is and will always be only one of him. And he was peerless. Perfect.