From Kuba, with Love... or from a Kuvasz in Canada?
Updated: Jun 12
By Jordan Bartosek, White Wolf Kuvasz Kennel, Ontario, Canada
Greetings to all from around the world who may be reading this. My name is Jordan and I am from Ontario Canada. I have had the pleasure of owning and working with many Kuvasz for over ten years now. I was asked if I would like to share some of my experiences with the breed and I happily agreed, mostly because I am passionate about this breed and could talk for hours about how majestic and noble they are and partly because every Kuvasz owner has a story that needs to be told! I was going to tell the tale of my first Kuvasz from when I got him until he fulfilled his own dream and I thought I could cover it in a few hundred words, however, upon starting this literacy adventure, I was already at thousand words before the real adventures started! Well, I suppose I will have to do a three or four part essay to tell the whole story as to not leave anything important out on the way. Let’s have a go at it shall we…
I have always had dogs. Golden’s, Shepherds, Dobermans, and we mutually understood each other. We played, wrestled, interacted freely with all other dogs and life was good for both of us. Best friends, whether with another human or canine, eventually get to a point where you almost know what the other is thinking. We picked up on each others cues and seemed to role effortlessly through our daily routines without any real surprises or hair raising experiences. Predictability became the norm and I knew what to expect from them in almost any circumstance we found ourselves in.
When one dog would pass, I would get another dog of a different breed and I always found the end result the same. They would develop most of the behaviours that my past dogs did and life continued on with very little adjustment needed. Outside of abnormally
high veterinary services needed, which I found out later was common with the previously mentioned pure breeds, I had a system of companionship that worked! Now you may think, “if it’s not broke, don’t fix it” and part of me would want to agree with you but the other side of me that yearns for adventure and perplexing situations and skin tingling experiences and who was tired of forking over thousands of dollars each year at a vet said: “Nope, I want a challenge! I want a large breed with a long life expectancy and minimal health problems!!!” And you are probably a Kuvasz owner reading this so guess what challenge I took on for my next and final breed?!?
I grew up in household where nothing seemed to work the way it was supposed to. You either had to jiggle it, hold your tongue the right way to get it fit, or swear at it just a little to get it to start. Eventually you got the end result you wanted and in the process you learned about frustration management, perseverance, determination, persistence, and most of all patience. These virtues would help me tremendously some odd years later when my world got turned upside down by adopting, as you may have guessed, a KUVASZ! The rest is history as they say!
Ya, I researched the breed extensively before coming to my conclusion that I wanted a white little fluff ball. I talked to other owners, I spend hours on the phone with the breeder that I would eventually adopt from on what to expect, I even talked to other trainers about the Kuvasz’s behaviours and traits. On paper, (using my always trusty pro’s and con’s list) the evidence was piling up that becoming Kuvasz owner was completely opposite to what I was used too. You would think rationale would kick in and maybe I would pump the brakes a little and reassess if this breed was right for me! But no, no, no!
That’s not how my mentality works and the more potential challenges and scenarios I would fathom, the more solutions I would conjure up. Keep in mind something as well. During this whole decision process, with potential red flags lining up against my final choice of yay or neh, my gut instinct never wavered. Some may say making a decision against the evidence and believing more in intuition is just plain tomfoolery but Albert Einstein had a better message: “The only real valuable thing is intuition”. It would be unwise to argue with the logic of a genius. Intuition would, and continues to be a big part of my journey with Kuvaszok as I will allude too later in my story.
Then came the day I brought home my first Kuvasz that I named Kuba and life again was good. The name came to me weeks before in the middle of the night when the tea I had the night before decided to exit. I remember standing there half asleep quietly chanting “Kuba, Kuba Kuba”. The next morning I thought I better see if this stout word that was soon to be a name had a meaning. I have Polish lines in my background and perhaps I had heard the word as a kid because upon my research I discovered it was a Polish name based on the equivalent in English of that of Jacob. The name itself means protector or to be wise. When used as verb it also means to mischievously replace something with something else. I had no idea at the time that this name was so apropos to how Kuba’s personality was to blossom as he grew older. Perhaps my intuition was in overdrive that night I got up to pee!
(The first day I picked up my young son, soon to be my mentor!)
Early puppyhood was a lot like with my other pups from previous breeds: they eat, sleep, poop and make you laugh a lot. Kuba was no different in many aspects except for one. Those dark eyes that seem to hold a wisdom far beyond his years. It was in our quiet moments that I noticed he was starting to shift his eyes to the horizon more, it was if he was seeing something I wasn’t. I just assumed he was contemplating what I was cooking him for dinner! I socialized him whenever I got the chance. With my other dogs, they went with me everywhere; to friends, work, dog parks, hotels, vacations, and I started to do the same things with Kuba. Whenever I brought him around new people on walks or in the park, they would all have to stop and ask what kind of beautiful breed this was. It was like he was was wearing a neon flashing sign that said notice me!! And everyone did! I loved talking about him and I roughly calculated that only about one in twenty-five people knew what kind of dog he was. Apparently I loved the attention a lot more than he did as those big dark eyes were more focused on me rather than the pretty girl that was trying to get his attention!
(Kuba at the dog park watching a flock of geese land on the lake while all the other dogs
were sniffing rears and running circles)
Dog parks are fun until they are not. My first real litmus test on the majestic ways of a Kuvasz came in full display at a dog park. Let me clarify that dog parks serve a purpose for most other dogs and people to gather and let Barney and Chloe frolic around while they drink coffee and talk about their day and awe at how well their dogs play together.
Kuba at a dog park was like the kid at junior soccer who, while the play was going one way, was more content to run to the sidelines to see what was on the other side of field, oblivious to what was going on and on his own agenda. Good mannerisms are not learned at dog parks. Bad habits develop far too quickly, mostly due to the owners just accepting that bad behaviour from Barney and Chloe is just normal dog behaviour.
Kuba’s last trip to the dog park went a little like this. There was a bull dog cross that was extremely bullish to other dogs, especially the smaller ones. The owner thought it was acceptable behaviour and would chuckle when the smaller dog got knocked down and
got back up for more. Now the owner herself displayed some of the same characteristics that her dog did and it was easy to see that people were a little intimidated to say anything to get her stop her dog before some other dog got hurt. Tank was the dogs name (fitting, I know), and Tank never really gave Kuba any attention, until none of the other dogs wanted to play with him any more. On this day, Tank decided that Kuba should go through the hazing like all the other dogs did. What Tank didn’t know was that Kuba was not like other dogs. Tank went down to the far end of the fence where Kuba was gazing into the woods and he decided to try and mount him. Kuba growled and moved ten feet and continued on with his quiet meditation. Tank followed and tried it again. Kuba growled louder this time and it seemed to really upset Tank that Kuba would not cower to his bullish tactics. At this point, his owner was almost taunting Tank to play a bit harder, much to the dismay of the rest of the folks watching. Now I’ve seen enough in my days to know when a situation could boil over and this was one of them. I hollered for Kuba to come and he did, because it was time to split. As Kuba was trotting back to me I said to Miss Tank: “You’d best control your dog because this will not end well for Tank.”
The crowd went silent and I assumed she understood my point and that would be the end of it. I know better than to assume anything because it counters my gut feeling, my intuition! Then, much to my dismay, I hear “Get him Tank!!!” Game on. Kuba at this point was at my feet waiting to be leased and doesn’t Tank come full speed and completely bowl him over. The crowd gasps, Miss Tanks cheers, and all I can think of is uh oh here we go!. Kuba gets up, dusts himself off and assesses the situation. What happens next is a blur, but this is what I was told after by another dog owner. Kuba fixes a stare on Tank and slowly walks towards him, walk isn’t the right word. Kuba stalks his way over to Tank with his eyes never wavering from his target. Tank has made a grave mistake and has miscalculated that Kuba has had enough. Tank is rearing up and excited that he has a consensual combatant. Tank lunges at Kuba who, from what I am told, in a blink of an eye, steps to one side and as Tank has missed him, grabs the back of neck and flips him on his back and just stands over him with a low growl that could be felt by all who bared witness to this turn of the tide. As I put the leash on Kuba and exited the first gate I hear a quiet clap, then another and then another. The people had spoken and it was Kuba who had helped them find their voices and speak up against bullies and inadequate behaviour by both canine and adult.
I didn’t tell this story to promote violence or justice, or any kind of retribution. I told this story because it shows the traits in a Kuvasz that make them, in my opinion, the noblest of breeds. Kuba reacted as he did when he had too. He used his intelligence to diffuse a situation that could have been completely avoidable in the first place. His reaction was justified but he did not use that moment to let his adrenaline take over and lose control of the situation.
This experience also opened my eyes of how a typical Kuvasz, guided by natural intuition, will use their instincts to work a problem in a protective manner that ensures the safety of the “flock” as well as exerting just enough energy until the problem is solved. I learned a lot from him that day and I continued to learn and be amazed by his stoic ways in the years that followed. There are a few more adventures that I would like to share with you all soon. For now, I think its time to go give my magnificent Kuvasok some treats and some rubs because they deserve them!
(There is something in a Kuvasz eyes, especially Kuba’s, that let me know that I am
protected always)
Jordan and his Kuvasz pack
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