I actually like all dogs. For a long time I thought I didn’t like little dogs (and occasionally referred to them as “rat dogs” or “football dogs” as per my dad), but I’ve since changed my mind. I like little dogs, as long as they’ve been treated and trained like dogs. It’s distressingly common that people don’t bother to really train little dogs, probably for the understandable reason that little dogs can do less harm – but lack of training means ending up with the uncertain, neurotic, yappy little dog that is unclear on its standing in the local hierarchy, and pushes boundaries (leading to nipping, and potential face-biting).
I’ve met some lovely little dogs, though, and it seems to be that sort of thing is on the decline. Having said that, this isn’t an “anti small dog” post (it would be a disservice to some the awesome titchy dogs I’ve met in recent years: kudos to Toby the whippet, Jasper the Jack Russell, and pretty much every cavalier King Charles spaniel I’ve ever met).
There are a few times when I admit that having a smaller dog would make things easier (I define “smaller” as “any dog that is less than 23.5kgs at 5.5 months old”), so here’s a list of ways in which big dogs are a bit of a pain:
1. You have to teach them “Up!” at a very young age. Amos has reached the point where lifting him onto the examination table at the vet involves a squat lift. I’m fairly strong, but the disparity between his weight and his height means I have to bend lower and take the weight in my back (bad knees – I can only squat so far down). When he’s taller, this will oddly enough be easier, even though he’s heavier.
2. You can’t buy anything at the end size. They grow so fast! There’s no point buying a car harness that won’t fit him yet – he still needs to be protected in the mean time. You have to start with a small collar, and these are all things he will grow out of very, very quickly. If we lived in a snowy country, we’d have to buy titchy coats. Fortunately his crate came with a divider wall so we could make it smaller to start with until he got big enough to take it out (the whole point of crate training is that it’s a cosy den, which doesn’t work if it’s too big).
3. At the moment, my dog has a seriously upset stomach. We’re hoping the problem isn’t an obstruction that will require surgery. This leads to a couple of points. Firstly, a smaller dog would produce far less vomit. And less poop. These are the consequences of an upset stomach (although there’s not a lot of the latter, which is why we’re concerned about an obstruction). [EDIT: Amos is fine. It has all worked through his system and all will be well, although he's still on some tummy meds for a few days. It was all very distressing though - he spent the night in the vet hospital and had X-Rays, the whole shebang].
4. Secondly, a smaller dog would require less anaesthetic. The bill is directly proportional to size. Actually, this applies to all medications.
5. Training: it’s crucial, and that’s fine, that’s as it should be. But we’re talking niggly details here – we need to train Amos to be cool with things like getting his teeth cleaned and his nails clipped. You can wrestle a Jack Russell to the ground and do these things against his will, but try doing that with a 20+kg ball of black, distressed muscle, or God forbid, a fully grown Rottweiler. And nail clipping distresses Amos mightily.
6. Everything costs more. Big collars cost more than little collars. Big crates cost more than little crates. Big toys, big kennels… and so on. Size up, cost up.
7. Dog will eat you out of house and home – especially if, like me, you’re a bit lazy on the cooking front, and you overcompensate by buying premium large breed puppy food at $[you don’t want to know] per 15kg bag, which lasts about a month at the moment (he is five months old).
8. Public perception: some people are scared of large dogs. I actually don’t judge people for this. It’s not an entirely irrational fear. It’s only irrational if you know the dog is well trained and not going to cause you harm, but if you don’t know the dog or the owners, it’s not unreasonable to question this. I tend to know responsible dog owners, and I actually haven’t met many people who have failed to appropriately train large dogs, but that doesn’t mean morons aren’t out there. They demonstrably are out there. Of course, even a badly trained, neurotic dog is still unlikely to attack you, but it does happen. The problem is that this public perception leads to crappy behaviour from people in some cases, and it is upsetting when people trash talk your dog. It also leads to stupid legislation that has been proven to not work (breed specific legislation – at the moment no study has shown it to have any helpful effect on dog attacks). On the up side, I haven’t encountered this behaviour in our town. People have been wonderful and have adored our little fellow.
9. Harsh realities: big dogs can do more damage. They can break through many obstructions. They can climb over tall objects (some small dogs can do this also). If they take off while on lead, they will drag you. At the moment I’m not worried about the latter because leash training is something Amos has excelled at. He’s really, really good at not running off; our secret plan is to not let him ever actually figure out that he’s stronger than us.
10. Smaller dogs tend to live longer, although with advances in veterinary science and pet care larger breeds like Rottweilers and Great Danes are definitely seeing more years than they used to.
11. Finally, the desexing debacle: see my previous post, but as an addendum, if our dog were a smaller dog, we probably would be more likely to desex him, and be willing to do it at an earlier age. The bone density and proper growth issue is a huge factor here. If we didn’t have to worry about it, I’d be much calmer about taking his goolies away.
So, with all these reasons that large dogs are a bit of a pain, why did I* get one? We’ll leave aside why I love Rottweilers in particular (but breed-specific characteristics are a big part of it - Rotties are amazingly clever, which helps), and focus purely on the appeal of size (and attendant characteristics)! (some of these are a bit silly)
1. You can hug them. I mean a proper, chest-thumping hug. You can seriously put your arms around the dog and lean on their shoulder, and they put up with this remarkably well given that they are not primates, and thus that hugging is not really in their canine body language vocabulary. To be honest, dogs are not huge fans of hugging - it means something different in canine body language - but patient, tolerant dogs will put up with it.
2. You can bench press them for weight training. They’ll even grow at a rate that will continue to challenge you! (admittedly, although I can lift him, I would be hard put to bench press Amos at the moment)
3. They are very hard to lose as they cannot fit into small spaces.
4. They can go for looooong walks. Amos is a bit young for this yet, but when he’s a big fellow, we won’t be able to tire him out. This does apply to some small breeds as well, actually.
5. There’s something amazingly charming about the fact that they keep trying to curl themselves up smaller and smaller to fit on your lap as they grow (Amos finally gave up on this a few weeks ago, but he held out for quite a while).
6. When you’re on a chair, they can put their heads on your lap to get your attention, rather than jumping up (no, I'm not encouraging being pushy - putting head on lap is okay. Hassling is not).
7. They do what I call the “Big Dog Affectionate Lean.” When desirous of patting and attention, big dogs seem to have a tendency to wander up and lean against your legs. This does sometimes require adjusting one’s balance. It’s very sweet nonetheless.
8. No-one is going to give you any trouble if you take them for a walk late at night (double for Rottweilers and similar breeds).
9. People are unlikely to ever rob your house if they’re aware of what lives in the yard (double for Rottweilers and similar breeds).
10. Their barks are deeper in tone, and thus less annoying (compare the basso boom of a Great Dane to the yip of a pug to see what I mean).
11. Harsh realities 2: the whole “big dogs do more damage” is undeniably true for what it’s worth – but little dogs also have very sharp teeth and, in an unguarded moment, can do a great deal of damage. You’re not going to underestimate your big dog.
12. They can pull carts (double for Rottweilers!).
13. As a general rule, big dogs tend not to have "little man" syndrome. This is anecdotal, but my experience with large dogs has generally shown them to be more calm and placid overall. I suspect that while this no doubt has something to do with native temperament, it probably has more to do with training. People are more likely to train big dogs, so they tend to be more confident of their place in the world and their home, and thus chill. They're more unpredictable in how they treat little dogs (note: this is an optimistic interpretation. There are irresponsible, awful people who have big dogs and are horrible to them which is the reason we have most of these behavioural problems in the first place).
So there we are. At the moment I'm tempted to add how incongruously cute it is when your enormous Rottweiler puppy is sprawled across your couch, cuddled up to the stuffed dog toy you bought for him which is still miraculously in one piece, but that might be belabouring the point.
*I say why “I” got one because I was the driving force behind this. Husband loves dogs, but didn’t have a preference, while I was jumping and going “Rotties! Rotties! Rotties!” with puppy-clucky glee.
**title courtesy husband and Sir Mix-A-Lot.
