Int'l CH ChriMaso's Midniterun Jaguar
“Jag”
March 9, 1999 - May 3, 2007

Jag was the last of my Great Danes. I owned/loved this breed for over 20 years. I never thought I’d ever have another breed, and I never thought I’d be without a Dane. They are loving, little dogs trapped in GIANT body. My favorites are the Harlequin (white with black patches) and Mantles, or as we used to call them before they were approved to be shown, Bostons. LOL They are the clowns of the breed... always happy, silly, fun-loving, and eager to please. They are probably not the smartest of the Dane colors, but with their personalities, big brains were not a necessity.

Unfortunately, Danes just do not live long enough. The average lifespan is about 8 years or so. I’ve had them die as early as 2.5 years from a fatal heart attack, and live as long as 13 years and just die in their sleep from old age. Jag’s mom passed away at only 5.5 years of age from cirrhosis of the liver (no idea how she contracted that). Suzie was a special girl and when she passed away, I decided I would no longer breed Danes, but I still had Jag.

Jag was whelped from my next to the last litter I had. At the time he was born, Mantle was not an approved color to show in AKC, but it was love at first sight. I was looking for a show girl from that litter, but didn’t get one. It was an unusually small litter, just Jag and his sister, Lexie. Lexie was a beautiful Merle Mantle (also not an approved show color), so there were no show pups from the litter. My plan was to sell both puppies and “try again next time”, but Jag would have no part of that.

Even before he could walk, as soon as he heard my voice or smelled me moving about in the room, he would scoot to the side of the whelping box closest to me and start whining for me to pick him up. Although, I know I shouldn’t have, he was just too precious to pass up and he was in my arms more than not. As soon as he was walking and out of the whelping box, he would follow me everywhere. When people came to look at the two puppies, I always gave them reasons why they’ll like his sister better. LOL He was far too precious to ever give up.

When Jag was about 18 months old, Mantles were approved for showing, so I started showing Jag. Unfortunately, he was such a momma’s boy that he never did well in the ring. Whenever a male judge would come up to us, Jag would move so that he was between the judge and me. He was never aggressive and never growled or anything, but he would NOT stay in his stacked position when the judge came up to examine him or when he walked down the line looking at the line up of dogs. *sigh* I tried putting a handler on him, but he was too stressed and spent the entire time with the handler just looking for me, so I finally threw in the AKC towel and stopped showing him when he was about 2.5 or 3 years old. He did complete his IABCA title in one long weekend (the fastest time possible) as those shows are much more laid back and he was happy to be out in the sunshine.

As you can see from the pictures, Jag was ADORED by the Bostons. And I could never have asked for a more gentle, loving, and accommodating dog to go with the little guys. The puppies used Jag’s ears, lips, and tail as teething toys and used his body as a jungle gym. They would follow him around like he was the pied piper. I can’t tell you how many hours I spent just watching him play with the little ones and laughing at their antics. He was their babysitter, play thing, and big brother.

He grew in size MUCH faster than my son, but he was always loving and gentle with him as well. They were best buddies. Mason (my son) LOVED it when Jag would stand up and put his paws on Mason’s shoulders. Jag TOWERED over Mason. At full adulthood, Jag was 165 lbs – lean and muscular pounds – and he stood over six foot tall. He was a stunning creature.

When I was hurting or tired or sad, Jag always knew and he was right there beside me, bringing me comfort. It was like his soft, loving eyes could see into my soul and were telling me that it didn’t matter what the world threw at me, because he would always be there for me – to cry with, laugh with, and hold when I needed it, and he would always look up, smile, and kiss me until I made him stop.

In a three week period, my best friend ever - Jag - went from being strong, healthy and vibrant to being eaten up with cancer with no hope of recovery. My 165 lb protector became my 105 lb cancer victim. In the last attempt to save his life, we opted for surgery to remove the cancer, but upon opening him up, the cancer had fully engulfed his intestines, most of his stomach, and part of his pancreas. There was nothing that could be done to save his life, so I went home and cried for three days and mourned… for much longer.

Throughout your life as a dog owner/lover, you will likely have several dogs, and if you are VERY blessed, you will have one or two that become your “heart” dogs or doggy soul mates, as some folks call them. Jag was that to me. He was the epitome of a devoted pet with a never ending supply of warmth and kisses. Pictures of him make me smile…and cry to this day. There are SO many stories and pictures, there is not enough room here for me to share them all, but hopefully the pictures will give you a snapshot of his personality and love of life and family.

He may be gone, but he will never be forgotten…

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