Rufus 2
17/12/2004
Rufus

Chapter One - Part Two

The pup was a Staffie bitch (yes, Jennifer, the definition of the word is "a female canine") and she was our first lesson in the meaning of Staffordshire Bull Terrier, the finest of all breeds. That she was my introduction to the canine world was a chance so unlikely that it bordered on the impossible. She came from the first litter of pedigree Staffie pups born in South Africa. Although the breed had been present in South Africa from before the Boer War (and one, Jock, became so famous that a book* was written about him and a monument set above his grave) they were not recognized by the Kennel Club in England until 1935.

At the time of the pup's arrival amongst us, we were unaware of how fortunate we had been in her selection. To us she was just an adorable, chunky bundle of fun, an irrepressible character without fear, an indomitable spirit within a squat, tough little frame. We had much to learn.

My father named her Bunty, some forgotten reference to his years in India, I think. She remained always my father's dog but assumed an equality with the rest of the family that I now know to be typically Staffie. Bunty became my friend, my guardian and my tutor, although my memories of her youth are faint because I was so young and that time is so distant to me now.

The Staffie was bred as a fighting dog in the early 19th Century. Bull baiting became frowned upon and then outlawed in 1835. The miners and potteries workers of Staffordshire, the area known as the Black Country because the belching chimneys covered everything with soot, were hard-working, hard-playing men who had little but blood sports for entertainment, so the ban hit them hard. They decided to use the bull-baiting dogs (from which would be developed the bulldog of today) as fighting dogs, pitting them against each other for wagers. But these dogs were too slow and cumbersome for the task and owners began to cross them with the Old English Terrier (which no longer exists as a separate breed although its genes have contributed to many other types) in a race for greater speed and agility. By the 1850s the Staffie had emerged as the result.

We can look back now and deplore the cruel purpose for which the Staffie was bred. Other more sophisticated entertainments have become our preferred pursuits and we learn with horror the savageries of our ancestors when at play. It was a harder world then and little thought was given to the suffering of the participants in blood sports.

But its origins have made the Staffie a unique and special dog. It is a fighter, yes, but so aware of its superiority in this field to all other dogs that it will not fight unless forced to do so by the onslaught of another dog. Of course, once a Staffie does fight, the owner must intervene immediately. Staffies will fight to the death if not stopped. At a very early age I learned to wade into a dog fight to extract Bunty from the mayhem. I was never bitten, which is amazing only because the danger came not from the Staffie but the other dog, which will attempt to bite once you have freed it from the Staffie's stranglehold. Even in the depths of her fighting madness, Bunty knew somehow that I was not to be harmed.

You might hear that the Staffie is able to lock its jaw once it has a grip on another dog. This is utter nonsense. The Staffie's jaw is no different from any other dog's; it is the highly-developed musculature of the Staffie's jaw that enables it to hold on whatever happens. This also gives the Staffie its characteristic look, with bulging cheeks and muscles arching over the top of the skull to meet in a cleft or parting at the center.

Whether it is by intention or pure, happy accident, the Staffie is also the most intelligent of dogs. Staffies grow up between the ages of eighteen months and two years (the later, the better the Staffie). Before then the Staffie behaves much as any dog but at that age a change comes over it. It realizes that it is a Staffie. And it knows that the world divides into three creatures: humans, Staffies and everything else (in that order). With this knowledge the true Staffie temperament commences. It will love humans, its owner in particular, have respect for any other Staffie and treat the rest of creation with a condescending tolerance. In its eyes you will see an awareness of the order of things and an understanding that is so nearly human it makes very little difference.

When you combine this intelligence with the other Staffie qualities of courage, energy, playfulness and loyalty, you have a dog that could not bettered as a companion to a boy. Between the two of them they will devise more mischief and fun than any sane parent would desire. It was my good fortune that my father was as besotted with Bunty as I was and so I was able to grow up with her and others of her kind.

* Jock of the Bushveld by Sir Percy Fitzpatrick. If you see a copy, buy, steal or borrow it and read. It will tell you far more of the Staffordshire Bull Terrier than I can hope to.

Clive

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