fiddlelady
Member
Six months ago, I lost the most loyal friend I ever had. He was not the smartest but he was the most intuitive. He had no words, but he knew whom to trust. I wish I had listened to him earlier. Members of this forum won't be surprised that he was an English mastiff whom I had to put down due to congestive heart failure. I hope I will not alienate anyone when I say, that Mastiffs are not the smartest members of the canine species, but like Forest Gump, who told Ginnie, "I may not be a smart man, but I know what love is," love more wholly than any dog I've owned before.
The breeder put it different. All dogs are loyal, she said but mastiffs have a special kind of devotion. I nodded but I didn't understand. My husband looked me balefully as we watched the breeder pull into the driveway - the dog hunched in the back of her station wagon - filling the entire back end of the car. "He's so big!" my then husband said. "Why in the world did you get such a big dog." I didn't have a good answer. I had to admit - he was huge - his head was at hip level and his backside was a over a yard long. But at one year old, he was all legs and knees and when he spilled out of the car, the poor guy looked terrified. Later that evening, when we finally maneuvered him into his massive crate, he slumped against wall and cried piteously. He was a big fluffy baby and I named him Leo.
Gradually, after many walks and soft conversations, Leo came to trust me. He filled out - put on about 40lbs of muscle and became a gentle but imposing dog. He never quite lost his fear of my husband though. When he came home, he would meet him tail wagging uncertainly at the door but never with the exuberance that he greeted me. This irritated my husband a lot. I tried to tell him to be gentler, less forceful. But he always moved purposefully, spoke sharply and he was frequently angry - not outwardly but there was always an irritation just below the surface. His presence made Leo nervous.
The tension reached a climax one evening in early December 2008. We had lost power and due to a devastating ice-storm, it did not look like it would soon be restored. So we stoked the fireplace in the living room and settled in for what I hoped would be a cozy evening. Instead, my husband decided that this would be a good time to brush Leo. I started to suggest that perhaps due to the dark, it wasn't a good idea but he seemed unusually happy, so I kept it to myself. He backed Leo into a corner and brushed his long fur with the detangling comb. I sat on the couch and graded papers. Suddenly, I heard a scream and I saw my husband grab his face and turn away from Leo. He then raised a fist to him while Leo cowered. I stared in horror. "That bastard bit me!" he yelled. In the firelight, I could see two puncture wounds on his face - one above his eyebrow and one at his lip. He had indeed. I grabbed Leo, shook him fiercely and led him to his crate. It was clear that he knew he had done wrong.
"I'll get rid of him if you want me to," I said. My husband said that we should enlist the help of a dog trainer before we made that decision. Three days later, still with no power, the dog trainer showed up. He was a large imposing man with a booming voice and quick precise movements. If there was going to be another incident, I thought - then we will see it now. There wasn't - Leo behaved as he always had done - gently and submissively. The dog trainer announced, "This is not a dangerous dog. "
"He bit my husband." I reminded him.
"Yes, I know, he said. "But I can find no evidence any behavior that may have caused that. I think it was a fluke."
And so we blamed the incident on the dark, the cold and the smoky fireplace and tried to put it behind us. However, the next couple of days in the unheated house were tense and cheerless. Finally, a week later, the power came back on. That night, my husband came into the family room brandishing the detangling comb and announced that he would brush Leo. There was something manic in his eyes and Leo hung his head behind me looking scared. This time, I told him that it was not a good idea.
"I can't let that dog win." he said. I was aghast.
"Win? Win what? Why do you want to put him in a position to do something that will cost his life. Besides, you're mad, tense and he's scared." My husband was furious.
"It's either me or the dog" he yelled.
"I told you that I would get rid of him if you want me to but this is ridiculous. " I stood between him and Leo who cowered behind me looking worried and confused.
My husband lunged around for a while with the comb clenched in his hand. The whole scene was so crazy. I wondered if he had been drinking. Finally, he stormed off and went to the guest room above the barn.
I went to bed miserable and confused. What the hell was happening?
Now I know. From the emails I discovered during the storm of our divorce, I learned that in December 2008, my husband had been cheating on me compulsively for several years. He was guilty, angry and defensive about all of it and drinking a great deal more than I knew at the time. I think it was that evening that he decided to put motion his plan into motion to leave- his emails detailing his actions to move assets date to about that time.
And what can I say about Leo? He knew in his doggy way that there was a darkness to my ex husband that was dangerous and he reacted. He never bit anyone before or since that incident.
Truthfully, I had no idea at the time why I got a mastiff. My previous dog had been a Pomeranian. But the breeder lived very close and then suddenly, there he was. And while I have never seriously considered the idea of angels before - Leo was my angel. There's no other way to describe it. Later when I slept alone in that big house, I was so grateful to have Leo's shaggy form on the floor by my bed. After my husband had been removed from the house, but decided to come back one evening, it was Leo's soft but steady growl that changed his mind. The night he bit my ex, I thought that acquiring a mastiff was one of the biggest mistakes of my life. Now I see what the mistake was. Thank you, Leo. Wherever you are. Thank you.
The breeder put it different. All dogs are loyal, she said but mastiffs have a special kind of devotion. I nodded but I didn't understand. My husband looked me balefully as we watched the breeder pull into the driveway - the dog hunched in the back of her station wagon - filling the entire back end of the car. "He's so big!" my then husband said. "Why in the world did you get such a big dog." I didn't have a good answer. I had to admit - he was huge - his head was at hip level and his backside was a over a yard long. But at one year old, he was all legs and knees and when he spilled out of the car, the poor guy looked terrified. Later that evening, when we finally maneuvered him into his massive crate, he slumped against wall and cried piteously. He was a big fluffy baby and I named him Leo.
Gradually, after many walks and soft conversations, Leo came to trust me. He filled out - put on about 40lbs of muscle and became a gentle but imposing dog. He never quite lost his fear of my husband though. When he came home, he would meet him tail wagging uncertainly at the door but never with the exuberance that he greeted me. This irritated my husband a lot. I tried to tell him to be gentler, less forceful. But he always moved purposefully, spoke sharply and he was frequently angry - not outwardly but there was always an irritation just below the surface. His presence made Leo nervous.
The tension reached a climax one evening in early December 2008. We had lost power and due to a devastating ice-storm, it did not look like it would soon be restored. So we stoked the fireplace in the living room and settled in for what I hoped would be a cozy evening. Instead, my husband decided that this would be a good time to brush Leo. I started to suggest that perhaps due to the dark, it wasn't a good idea but he seemed unusually happy, so I kept it to myself. He backed Leo into a corner and brushed his long fur with the detangling comb. I sat on the couch and graded papers. Suddenly, I heard a scream and I saw my husband grab his face and turn away from Leo. He then raised a fist to him while Leo cowered. I stared in horror. "That bastard bit me!" he yelled. In the firelight, I could see two puncture wounds on his face - one above his eyebrow and one at his lip. He had indeed. I grabbed Leo, shook him fiercely and led him to his crate. It was clear that he knew he had done wrong.
"I'll get rid of him if you want me to," I said. My husband said that we should enlist the help of a dog trainer before we made that decision. Three days later, still with no power, the dog trainer showed up. He was a large imposing man with a booming voice and quick precise movements. If there was going to be another incident, I thought - then we will see it now. There wasn't - Leo behaved as he always had done - gently and submissively. The dog trainer announced, "This is not a dangerous dog. "
"He bit my husband." I reminded him.
"Yes, I know, he said. "But I can find no evidence any behavior that may have caused that. I think it was a fluke."
And so we blamed the incident on the dark, the cold and the smoky fireplace and tried to put it behind us. However, the next couple of days in the unheated house were tense and cheerless. Finally, a week later, the power came back on. That night, my husband came into the family room brandishing the detangling comb and announced that he would brush Leo. There was something manic in his eyes and Leo hung his head behind me looking scared. This time, I told him that it was not a good idea.
"I can't let that dog win." he said. I was aghast.
"Win? Win what? Why do you want to put him in a position to do something that will cost his life. Besides, you're mad, tense and he's scared." My husband was furious.
"It's either me or the dog" he yelled.
"I told you that I would get rid of him if you want me to but this is ridiculous. " I stood between him and Leo who cowered behind me looking worried and confused.
My husband lunged around for a while with the comb clenched in his hand. The whole scene was so crazy. I wondered if he had been drinking. Finally, he stormed off and went to the guest room above the barn.
I went to bed miserable and confused. What the hell was happening?
Now I know. From the emails I discovered during the storm of our divorce, I learned that in December 2008, my husband had been cheating on me compulsively for several years. He was guilty, angry and defensive about all of it and drinking a great deal more than I knew at the time. I think it was that evening that he decided to put motion his plan into motion to leave- his emails detailing his actions to move assets date to about that time.
And what can I say about Leo? He knew in his doggy way that there was a darkness to my ex husband that was dangerous and he reacted. He never bit anyone before or since that incident.
Truthfully, I had no idea at the time why I got a mastiff. My previous dog had been a Pomeranian. But the breeder lived very close and then suddenly, there he was. And while I have never seriously considered the idea of angels before - Leo was my angel. There's no other way to describe it. Later when I slept alone in that big house, I was so grateful to have Leo's shaggy form on the floor by my bed. After my husband had been removed from the house, but decided to come back one evening, it was Leo's soft but steady growl that changed his mind. The night he bit my ex, I thought that acquiring a mastiff was one of the biggest mistakes of my life. Now I see what the mistake was. Thank you, Leo. Wherever you are. Thank you.