If John Grogan’s Labrador Marley was the World’s Worst Dog, then our Bullmastiff Lincoln was arguably the World’ Best Dog.
As a breed, Bullmastiffs are generally considered among the most agreeable, loving, obedient and family-oriented dogs, and Lincoln has been no exception. On the down side, they don’t live very long. If the saying “Only the good die young is true,” then it certainly applies to this breed. We lost our first Bullmastiff, Molson, to cancer at age 5 and sadly, we lost Lincoln yesterday to cancer also at age 5.
To understand Lincoln, one must understand where he and his canine ancestors come from. Originally called “The Gamekeeper’s Friend,” Bullmastiffs were bred from English Bulldogs and English Mastiffs. They roamed the grounds of the large English estates helping the gamekeepers keep out poachers. They are bred to be silent so as not alert intruders to their presence. But when they do confront an intruder, they knock them to the ground and gently wrap their jaws around the offender’s throat. They don’t bite—they don’t have to. Their drooling presence is enough to scare a would-be poacher straight.
While Lincoln never had to practice the talents of his forbearers, he always placed his 170-pound body between us and whoever came to our door. We may not live on an English estate but we were his people, and he took seriously his role to protect us. I loved that feeling, and I will miss it terribly.
Lincoln was easy to train and loved to please. His only walk on the wild side was one summer when he developed a taste for rodents. As our vet delicately put it when we enquired about Lincoln’s stomach troubles, “Somewhere out there is a bereaved family of rodents.” Luckily, he outgrew that phase. We have a noticeable absence of squirrels and other critters in our yard, though.
It’s never easy to watch your pet die and although I confess I’m not really a dog person, it has been gut wrenching to watch our gentle giant struggle simply to walk outside. Bone cancer is aggressive and painful but Lincoln has borne it all bravely with the grace and dignity characteristic of his breeding. Never once did he utter as much as a whimper until the very end and we have often wondered if his stoic and longsuffering nature kept him from expressing pain much earlier.
Some folks believe dogs go to heaven. I’m not sure but I’ll err on the side of believing that Lincoln is sitting quietly beside the pearly gates, a stately and dignified protector, making sure no bad guys get in.
