I’m not going to go on and on about the health of deerhounds.
I think everyone knows about their many health problems and very short average lifespan.
So I think that I am just going to say that I am happy that a not particularly flashy or exaggerated dog won.
After watching that peke try to trot around the ring a few times, I wanted the anti-peke.
A deerhound is a good anti-peke.
Deerhounds are supposed to be both dignified and rugged– living symbols of the Highlands, Alba, and Ancient Caledonia.
Every time I think of deerhounds, I think of this Robert Burns poem:
My heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My heart’s in the Highlands a-chasing the deer –
A-chasing the wild deer, and following the roe;
My heart’s in the Highlands, wherever I go.
Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North
The birth place of Valour, the country of Worth;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.
Farewell to the mountains high cover’d with snow;
Farewell to the straths and green valleys below;
Farewell to the forrests and wild-hanging woods;
Farwell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.
My heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My heart’s in the Highlands a-chasing the deer
Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe;
My heart’s in the Highlands, whereever I go.
I can see this dog in its native habitat, accompanying the deer stalkers as the pursue the red stag. The men are wearing their deerstalker caps and are dressed in their Harris tweeds. A rifle fires, and the shaggy deerhound is set loose. The dog bounds forward as if it were made of coiled springs. As it accelerates into full gallop, it becomes a gray blur. One wonders if one is looking at a dog or a shaggy gray cheetah that is advancing upon the shot stag. Within a few seconds, the great hound is upon the deer, and just as soon, the quarry is down. Two symbols of the Highland wild collide in a permutation of the ancient conflict between predator and prey. The primeval and the primitive meet in the shadowy mists of the Highland mountains.
That’s what I think of when I consider the deerhound.
Call me a romantic.
But that is the essence of this dog.
I can confirm that both you and Marcus called the Deerhound before the Italian judge gave him the honor.
I was sure that the Pantene goodness of the Beardie would be too much to pass up.
As long as we’re making predictions, I’m going out on a limb here and saying that within 5 years we’ll see Leonbergers at Westminster with as much hair as the Great Pyrenees, or perhaps even as much as they’ve got on the Newfoundlands. Feathers are all the rage.
This win put tears in my eyes the Scottish Deerhound and the Irish Wolfhound are both very special breeds to me. I grew up with them. The secret with both of these breeds is exercise. My parents got at least 11 years out of their Wolfhounds and 12-13 with the Deerhounds. several times a week we would take them out and run them behind a pickup truck I would be sitting on the open tail gate. We would run them at up to 30 mph with a total of about a mile at a slower speed. To see either of these two dogs at a full double suspended gallop chasing a Pronghorn antelope is a sight of wonder. Of course they could not catch the Pronghorn which was running away at 60 mph but that didn’t keep them from trying. Jack Rabbits where tough they could run them down but the Jack Rabbits could do 90 degree turns they could not follow. Cotton tails on the other hand where easy. they where trained with soft mouths and the would bring me these screaming bunnys which I would take from them for release later so they could chase them again. I love these two breeds but saddly I no longer live in the country,and in my present setting they would not live as long as they might so I have Irish Terriers a special breed of Redheads in their own right.
I could not agree more with both your sentiments regarding the Deerhound and those implied about the peke. What dog is left in that possessed-hassock packaging?