Well, it came that time again when Mason needed a good brush down. He would leave clumps after lying down, or even sitting down. I spent an hour brushing him out, and though I wasn't completely done, this is the amount of hair I got off of him. I would have normally brushed until little hair came out in the brush, but I was rapidly losing daylight, and couldn't hose him off when I was done. As you can see, the amount of hair was almost as big as he is. He hates being brushed out, but feels so much better when he is.
Mason is getting up there in years, 13 which is pretty old for a large breed dog. It has broken my heart to think that I have limited time with him on earth, and I don't look forward to the day when he moves on. I am proud to say that he's the first dog I've ever trained, raised from a puppy, and took care of myself. I couldn't afford to always keep up on his dental needs or vaccines, but have made sure he's been pretty healthy. I guess you could say he's living the "rags to riches" life in a dog's eye. He started out at the local animal shelter, and at the age of 2mo, walked into my life. Out of the 3 of them, he stood out from his siblings as he was a laid back pup, and won me over with those sad, brown eyes. Through the years, he's basically been my right hand man. When I was sick or sad, Mason would push his nose under my hand and see to it that I was comforted. When I got my Wisdom Teeth pulled, I remember falling asleep for 3 days, with Mason lying on the bed right next to me for those 3 days, without getting up to eat or for potty breaks. Mason isn't mans best friend, he's MY best friend, and I couldn't ask for a better dog.
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