Int'l CH ChriMaso's Midniterun Jaguar
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
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.
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.