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"What the Lion is to the Cat the Mastiff is to the Dog, the noblest of the family;
he stands alone, and all others sinking before him. His courage does not exceed
its temper and generosity and in attachment he equals the kindest of his race."
Cynographia Britannica 1800
Sunstone Mastiffs' Facebook Page
Owning a Giant Breed Dog . . . .
I spend the first months in complete and total awe of the
growth rate, most will be around 1.3 pounds at birth and 30+
pounds by 8 weeks.
Around 10 weeks I shed my first tears, when I realize I can no
longer lift them, I sit in the kitchen floor with them and hug
them and they never know why.
Between around 8 and 24 months I cry because many are so
freaking ugly only a mother could love them, everyone else
needs eye bleach.
At 24 months I cry again, because overnight they've usually
gone from ugly duckling to swan and I am so relieved I do a
tearful happy dance.
Around 30 months I cry, realizing they are probably about as
mature as they are going to get and now the countdown
Around 4 years I find myself catching my breath every once in
a while and gasping at the sheer beauty of these animals;
their size, their presence, their heart and I realize that some,
have now hit middle age, and I cry again.
At 6 they are eligible to be shown in the Veteran's class (at
some specialty shows) and I cry a tear of relief that they made
At 7 every sigh, lump and bump becomes a concern and I
hug them and cry again because I realize, we are on
I start to realize that some days I need to help them up and
down the stairs, just as I did when they were babies, and so I
give them extra treats before bed, an extra scratch behind the
ears and an extra snuggle and I cry.
At 8 we've made it to senior citizen, some do better than
others and many have some (or a lot) of gray and I do my best
to kiss their faces and thank G-d for them every day.
Then suddenly, or not so suddenly, they're gone.
Barrie Gregory (Fritz)