Mastiffs

I always tell my students that it is entirely up to their discretion whether they lead their essays with their best argument or, instead, arrive at their most compelling point and close with the proverbial “bang.” I have to admit that I am traditionally a fan of the former, though I am going to opt for the latter this time and save the best for last.

Cons associated with the breed:

1.  They don’t live long. 8-12 years…or 6.

2.  They are HUGE. I don’t know much about females, but the average male weighs 180 lbs. I remember only three weights of Huan’s: 22 lbs. at 8 weeks old, 121 lbs. at 7 months old (that is what I weigh now as a 30-year-old adult…human), and 210 lbs. at his heaviest adult weight. Incidentally, he was by no means overweight at that size. Huan was structurally big. To demonstrate, his father weighed a solid 240 lbs.

I personally consider their size one of the breed’s greatest endearing attributes (more on that in a later post), but I can see how some might consider their size cumbersome. If I am being honest, a wagging Mastiff tail stings if you’re not braced for it.

3.  Cost. And, no, not just the initial cost of purchasing a Mastiff, though that’s a pretty hefty sum, too. Because they are so big, everything costs more. A LOT more. Food? Before we switched to holistic food, which is nutritiously more dense and also, incidentally, considerably more expensive than processed food, Huan was eating 13 cups a day. Prescription meds? We spent an entire summer seeing a dermatologist for a skin allergy, and I just can’t bear to say anymore about that, except that all of our costly visits culminated in one single and simple conclusion: that Huan needed to be on holistic food.  Standard neutering? Almost $1,000. And that was six years ago. Imagine 1.5 to 2 of you going in for surgery and anesthesia with no medical insurance. Yes, that’s about right.

4.  Slobber. Everywhere, including the ceilings.

5.  Shedding is considerable. I imagine the copious amount of hair correlates closely and positively with the colossal size frame from which it detaches.

6.  Hip problems, like dysplasia. I think Huan always was at least mildly dysplastic, but I had him on joint support supplements since he was five months old. (See con #3.)

7.  They snore, loudly. (To add insult to injury, they are difficult to wake when their snoring is actually interfering with human sleep. It was not uncommon to see a pillow fly across my bedroom in Huan’s direction at 2 A.M.) Oh, and they have a flatulence problem. Enough said.

8.  Temperament??? Apparently, some Mastiffs can be aggressive? Stubborn? Difficult to train? This was the furthest from my experience. In my estimation, these aren’t problems of Mastiffs; or if they are, they are secondary to problems of owners. (More on that in a later post.)

Now, the “best,” the “bang,” the pros associated with the breed:

1.  To say a Mastiff is sedentary is to say it snows in Buffalo sometimes. Mastiffs sleep about 19 hours a day; it snows in Buffalo about 19 months out of the year. A Mastiff will not be a jogging buddy, nor should he be due to his propensity for hip problems. But he will take daily walks and look forward to them. And, best of all, he won’t ever nag you to take them, or to do much of anything, like get up out of bed on any given morning. No lie: Huan would go to sleep with me around 10:00 P.M. and get up with me--which would sometimes entail me dragging him out of bed as if he were a lethargic teenager--around 6:00 A.M. I would feed him and let him out, at around which time David, who used to work from 7 P.M.-7A.M., would be getting home. And Huan would go back to bed with David until around 3:00 P.M., when I got home from work. (Incidentally, Huan slept most of the afternoon, too. He just changed venues.)

If you are looking for a Frisbee catcher, you likely see this as a con, and you should go get yourself a Border Collie. If you are looking for low maintenance, at least in the activity department, a Mastiff is the breed for you.

2.  Related to #1, a Mastiff, despite its size, actually needs very little space. Mastiffs can do quite well in an apartment, though I would argue it unwise, maybe even irresponsible, to force a Mastiff, who is, again, prone to hip problems, to contend with stairs every time he needs to go outside.  When I could no longer carry Huan up and down our apartment steps, we bought a house. A ranch, specifically.

3.  Protection. I don’t know that Huan was a “protector.” Luckily, he was never put to the test. I can tell you my breeder’s dog intuitively knew her son was being physically assaulted near their house, jumped through a closed glass door, tackled the assailants, and ended up with 40+ stitches. And I can tell you Huan looked and sounded quite intimidating when he needed to. If you have a dog, I know you know the alert look and stance I am referring to and the distinct bark reserved for strangers. Coming from a 200 lb. animal, well, let’s just say I once heard the newspaper man scream, “Holy sh**,” and saw him run away--with my paper.

By the same token, as soon as Huan recognized we didn’t deem someone a threat, ears down, gait relaxed, tail wagging.  Literally immediately. (And he would have approached and licked if we let him, but we always insisted on boundaries, and Huan always observed them.)

4.  Love. All dogs are wonderful companions who live as a part of their family’s pack. Mastiffs, though, I think, rank high on the list of breeds that form genuine and enduring attachments to their families. As I have said before, Huan would literally follow me around the house as I vacuumed, a large feat for a large dog. He didn’t like not being in the same room as I. He wasn’t neurotic or anything; he just genuinely enjoyed my company. That may also be why he spent so much time sleeping when David and I worked opposite schedules, not because he was tired, but because he wanted to be wherever we were, doing whatever we did.

And there were other little gestures and tendencies, too. My breeder told us the day we got Huan, for example, that Mastiffs were nose nibblers. It was a sign of affection. I truthfully dismissed it at the time. Sure enough, though, Huan nibbled noses, sooo very gently, although that was more a gesture reserved for David, right up until the end of Huan’s life, in fact.

There was also the famous Bubba Nuzzle, typically reserved for me. (“Bubba Nuzzle”=spontaneous gesture of affection marked by ginormous canine head tucked tightly in human’s chin-to-collarbone crevice at the risk of virtual suffocation.) Interestingly enough, David and I researched the breed after Huan passed (I think we were just longing for any way to remember him and feel close to him), and one site said Mastiffs often “ask for hugs.” Turns out Huan did, in fact, ask for hugs, multiple times a day, in the form of a nuzzle.

5.  Temperament. I think some of Huan’s disposition was attributable to my nurture (more on that in a later post), some to his nature as a dog, and some to his nature as a Mastiff, in particular. Granted, I have had no other experience with Mastiffs--well, except for Mango, the Cane Corso, which is not an English Mastiff, to whom I grew attached when I volunteered at the SPCA--but I know Mastiffs are often referred to as “gentle giants.” And Huan may have been the gentlest of them all. I would take multiple posed pictures of my newborn daughter lying all over his gigantic body—her feet would end up in his jowls, hands in eyes, entire body on windpipe, etc.—and he wouldn’t even flinch. He would lie patiently on the ground twice a month and let little old me clip his nails, clean his ears, and brush his teeth. And he wouldn’t even flinch. Huan was the epitome of gentleness and gentility, BIG time, and I suspect many Mastiffs are.

There are cat people, and there are dog people. I am a Mastiff people, through and through. No ifs, and, or buts about it. (More on that in a later post.)