Shar Pei

The first thing that catches the eye with the Shar Pei is, of course, the folds — deep wrinkles with which the breed is so generously equipped that a puppy looks as if it had yet to grow into its own skin. The name “Shar Pei” means roughly “sand skin” and refers to the rough-to-the-touch, characteristic coat. This is one of the oldest breeds in the world, deriving from southern China, where for centuries it was a dog for everything: it guarded homes and property, helped in the field and with the animals. And this loose, wrinkled skin is not only a whim of beauty — in the past it made practical sense, because it was hard to firmly grip a dog that literally slips out of its own clothing. To complete the picture the Shar Pei throws in one more unexpected detail: a blue-black tongue, a rarity in the canine world that it shares with a few relatives.

The character suits this dignified, slightly gloomy physiognomy perfectly. The Shar Pei is a restrained, calm, and dignity-filled dog — one that greets your enthusiasm with the composure of a retired diplomat and does not intend to jump for joy just because someone entered the room. Toward strangers it can be cool and distrustful, scrutinizing newcomers with a calm, searching gaze, as if mentally filling out their assessment card. It also has a considerable dose of independence and its own opinion, so mindless obedience you should rather not expect from it — the Shar Pei prefers first to consider whether your idea really is worth it. And despite all this seriousness it can disarm you: when all those folds arrange into the expression of a dignitary who has serious reservations about the world but is too well-bred to voice them aloud, it really is hard to hold back a smile — though the Shar Pei itself certainly sees nothing amusing in it.

This reserve must not, however, be mistaken for coldness, because that would be quite a mistake. The Shar Pei loves its family deeply and faithfully, only it does so entirely in its own way: not effusively and not noisily, but quietly, surely, and without reserve. This dog itself chooses the people to whom it gives its heart, and attaches itself to them with all the strength of its dignified nature — it follows them discreetly, watches over everything from a slight distance, and if needed will stand in their defense without a moment's hesitation, never, however, making a spectacle of it. Its devotion does not demand applause or constant confirmation; it simply endures, as unshakable as it is itself. And this is precisely why a bond with a Shar Pei gives so much satisfaction: you have to honestly earn it, and once you win it, it stays with you like something truly precious — discreet, loyal, and given once and for all.

All this characteristic beauty has, however, its price, which is paid with care for the skin — and diet plays a leading role in it.

The Shar Pei is not a dog for everyone — and it is perfectly aware of this itself. It is a dignified individualist that does not court anyone's favor and does not pretend to be someone it is not; it takes life with the dignity and calm of an old soul enclosed in a wrinkled body.

If you care for its skin, eyes, and health, respect its need for dignity, and patiently earn its trust, it will reveal to you what strangers do not see: a warm, devoted companion who from behind its restrained mask loves surely and for life. Because the Shar Pei does not grant itself to just anyone — but the one it does choose receives a faithfulness so quiet and so deep that it does not need to be announced to the world. It is enough that the two of you know about it.