Giant

Kangal Mix, Gentle Giant

Giant was my very first rescue — long before the earthquake, long before the Farmhouse even existed. I found him in the city, exhausted and starving. A dog his size couldn’t survive on the streets for long: people would chase him off, throw stones, and there was no way he could find enough food to sustain himself.

It was obvious he’d had an owner once. He walked perfectly on a leash, stayed calmly by your side off-leash, and carried himself like a dog who’d known people. But he was skeptical — wary, as if he couldn’t quite believe he’d been abandoned. He bonded with Riley, my first rescue, and we started walking them together by the sea and in the garden.

When he got comfortable enough to sleep inside the building, the compound management noticed. They called animal control, and by pure chance, I saw him in the cage of the van as they tried to take him away. After a screaming match, I opened the door, let him out, and told them to deal with it. Of course, the management didn’t. So, he came with me to the farmhouse.

That’s when his real transformation began. He became playful, joyful, almost ridiculous — running like a horse across the fields, smacking us with his giant paws whenever he wanted affection (my legs are constantly bruised from his “love taps”). He knew he was intimidating and used it to his advantage, but beneath it all, he was soft. A true gentle giant.

In spring 2025, he gave me the biggest scare of my life. He collapsed, coughing blood, barely able to move. One vet told us he had a collapsed lung and might need to be euthanized. Something didn’t feel right. I wrote down his symptoms and treatments, researched, and sought a second opinion. It turned out to be ehrlichiosis and pneumonia — deadly, but treatable. After weeks of meds, care, and panic, he pulled through. Since then, he trusts me completely — lets me shove pills down his throat, push him, move him, and never resists. Pure trust.

Now he’s back to chasing wild boars with the pack, pawing for pets, and galloping around like the oversized horse-dog he is. He’s good with other dogs, great with people when introduced properly, and still knows how big and scary he looks — but if you look past the tough exterior, you’ll find nothing but love.