This isn’t the post I had planned to share today. But it’s too good not to. And it’s one of those things that I want recorded for posterity’s sake.
I’m not going to make you scroll and scroll, I’ll tell you the number 1 reason owning a Great Dane might not be for you, and then I’ll tell you my story.
The number 1 reason a Great Dane might not be the best dog for you, is because whilst playing with said 2 year old Great Dane (who at last weigh in several months ago was around 66kg), they might head butt you so hard, you end up with a mild concussion.
And if that’s not enough to persuade you to read on, here is a photo of said Great Dane (his name is Opie):
The story begins as I’m sure many do.
Wednesday 4pm.
I had just disconnected from discussing my depression, anxiety and trauma with my psychologist when Opie whined and whined and demanded that I play his favourite game. Fetch. Or rather fetch, then tug of war, then if I’m lucky I end up with the ball in question, I throw and so on and so forth. It’s a vicious cycle and we’re still not sure if he prefers the fetching or the tug of warring.
For reference, if you would be so kind as to ignore the filthy floor, this is the ball (it’s quite a good ball, really, so good that we now own two… a decision I have come to regret):
Sometimes, we humans get tired of the tug of war and just give up until Opie drops the ball and you beat him to it to throw it again. Per above, I had just finished with my psychologist and was in no mood to be treated so poorly by this creature that I brought into my home, that I feed, bathe (let sleep in the human bed most nights). So I bent over, to give his ‘big’ brother Bear the Boxer a bit of a cuddle and rile up. Because even at the ripe age of 9.5, Bear wants to play too.
This is beautiful Bear who has not once in the 5.5 years that I’ve known him caused me any injury:
Alas, Opie is a selfish, demanding puppy (yep, still a puppy at 2) and whilst I was bent over showing some love to his brother he came at me, ball in mouth, connecting with the left side of my face/temple with such force that I swear on all of my books, made me see stars.
The headache started pretty quickly, but I went about my plans of showering and getting ready for a lovely night in with my husband. But I just wasn’t feeling right. So I texted a friend who used to be a nurse and approached her with a ‘hypothetical situation’. Their response was to call nurse on call. Who in turn told me to go to the local ED.
Ever the rule follower, the moment my husband came home, I made him turn right back around and head to the ED. After a 4 hour wait (and 5 hours post ‘the incident’) I finally see a doctor. The doctor, was lovely and gave me the once over, confirmed that it was a mild concussion and because I was sitting in the ED for so long with no change they didn’t need to keep me for obs or run a CT scan.
I am grateful for the Australian healthcare system. But at that point I think I was qualified to say that I was probably fine. We finally got home at about 11pm to two dogs demanding their dinner, and wouldn’t you know it, a Great Dane who wanted to play fetch.
On a serious note, any blow to the head that leaves you feeling a bit not quite right, is definitely worth getting looked at. I’m still feeling pretty sore and sorry for myself 24 hours later.
Author’s Note: this post is obviously facetious but just in case you couldn’t tell, I thought I’d spell it out for you. This was entirely my fault and absolutely not a reason at all to not have the honour of loving and being loved by a Great Dane.