Gastric dilatation–volvulus (GDV), commonly referred to as bloat, has become so prevalent in modern Great Danes that prophylactic gastropexy is often presented as routine or even expected care. When a life‑threatening surgical emergency becomes normalized within a breed, it is worth asking a deeper question: how did a dog historically relied upon for physically demanding, high‑risk work arrive at a point where catastrophic digestive failure is anticipated rather than questioned?
This article examines GDV in Great Danes through a historical and biological lens rather than a purely modern medical one. It is also informed by personal experience. My family has bred and worked large guardian and protection dogs for generations, beginning with Dobermans and Rottweilers in the mid‑20th century and continuing through nearly two decades of breeding functional working Bandogs. That long-term, hands-on exposure to dogs selected for real-world durability has shaped how I view health, structure, and survivability. The goal is not to deny the existence of bloat in the past, nor to dismiss contemporary veterinary knowledge, but to explore whether the frequency with which it now occurs is compatible with the way functional working dogs were once bred, fed, and selected.
Historically, large working dogs were not companions or status symbols. They were tools, investments, and necessities. Dogs that failed structurally, broke down under stress, could not tolerate dietary variability, or died young represented a financial and functional loss. Such animals were not preserved through intervention, nor were their weaknesses accommodated through management. They were replaced. Over time, this process exerted relentless selection pressure in favor of durability, adaptability, and survivability.
Within that context, it becomes difficult to accept that a condition occurring at modern rates would have persisted unchecked. Occasional sudden deaths undoubtedly occurred, and gastric distension or torsion may not have been well understood or named. However, a failure that repeatedly removed valuable working dogs from service would have been noticed and acted upon. Rare failures are tolerated in functional systems; common failures are eliminated. The widespread expectation of GDV seen in modern Great Danes suggests a population that is no longer governed by the same selective forces.
One of the most visible changes between historical working Danes and modern Great Danes lies in structure. Early depictions and descriptions of boarhounds and estate dogs show animals with broad rib cages, strong rib spring, moderate chest depth, compact loins, and balanced proportions. These dogs were athletic and mechanically stable. Modern Danes, particularly those shaped by show‑driven selection, often display extreme vertical chest depth combined with narrow width, slab‑sided rib cages, elongated abdomens, and exaggerated silhouettes. This configuration alters the physical environment of the stomach, increasing mobility and mechanical instability. A deep, narrow thorax allows the stomach to hang lower and rotate more easily, placing greater strain on its supporting ligaments over time. This is not a neutral change; it is the direct result of human preference supplanting functional necessity.
Diet represents another profound shift. Historically, large working dogs were fed meat scraps, fat, bones, offal, and household leftovers, often once daily and rarely in measured or uniform portions. These foods produced a dense, heavy gastric load with relatively predictable digestion. Modern dogs are commonly fed highly processed, starch‑heavy kibble designed for convenience rather than biological resilience. Such diets are more fermentable, more prone to gas production, and often consumed rapidly with significant air intake. Within this modern feeding model, a single large meal may indeed increase risk. However, this does not mean that meal frequency itself is inherently pathological. The critical variable is not how often dogs eat, but what they are eating and how that food behaves within the stomach.
Alongside structural and dietary changes has come a widespread loss of digestive and systemic hardiness. When I first began breeding large working dogs, I noticed that many modern dogs reacted poorly to even minor changes in diet or environment. Digestive upset was common. Skin issues were widespread. Stress intolerance was often treated as an individual problem rather than a population-level warning sign. Food sensitivities, chronic skin conditions, gastrointestinal instability, and stress‑related illness have become common enough to be considered normal. These traits persist because modern breeding culture increasingly replaces selection with management. Dogs that struggle are supported through specialized diets, medications, environmental control, or surgical intervention and are often bred regardless of underlying weakness. In my own program, I took a different approach. I transitioned my dogs to biologically appropriate raw diets and removed from breeding any individuals that failed to stabilize. Over time, the difference became unmistakable. Digestive resilience improved. Skin and coat issues resolved. Dogs that remained were capable of handling dietary variation, environmental stress, and physical demand without chronic management. By contrast, the modern reliance on accommodation and intervention preserves fragility rather than eliminating it.
Prophylactic gastropexy illustrates this shift clearly. While the procedure can reduce mortality from GDV, its routine recommendation reflects a deeper problem. Rather than asking why a breed requires surgical alteration to survive ordinary life, the intervention itself has become normalized. Historically, the dog would have been replaced. Today, the dog is managed, and the population remains unchanged.
Similar patterns can be observed in other working breeds that transitioned into show‑dominated populations. Early Dobermans, for example, were shorter, heavier boned, broader, and built for endurance and confrontation. Modern Dobermans are often taller, narrower, more fragile, and burdened by systemic health issues. The Great Dane followed a comparable trajectory, magnified by extreme size. In both cases, the removal of functional selection allowed structural exaggeration and health fragility to accumulate.
The modern prevalence of GDV in Great Danes is therefore unlikely to be the result of a single cause. It is more plausibly explained by a convergence of factors: structural exaggeration away from mechanical stability, radical dietary change, elimination of meaningful culling, closed breeding populations that concentrate weakness, and a cultural shift toward medical management in place of selection. This is not evolution in the biological sense. It is artificial survival.
here these historical principles are applied deliberately. This philosophy is a direct extension of what I observed growing up around true working dogs. The Dobermans my grandparents bred and worked were shorter, broader, more substantial animals than many seen today. They were fed simple meals, often once daily, consisting largely of meat and household leftovers. They were expected to work, to endure, and to remain sound. Dogs that could not meet those expectations were not preserved. The aim is not to preserve a name or replicate a show silhouette, but to restore the selection pressures that once produced durable working dogs. Functional structure is prioritized over exaggerated type. Diets are chosen to promote digestive resilience rather than accommodate fragility. Dogs are exposed to environmental variability instead of being insulated from stress, and those that fail to remain stable, adaptable, and physically sound are removed from the breeding program. This approach is not innovative; it is traditional. It reflects the same forces that shaped working dogs for centuries, applied consciously within a modern context.
Great Danes were once powerful, adaptable, and capable animals. The normalization of GDV today is not an inevitable consequence of size, but a consequence of how humans changed the breed. When selection pressure is removed, weakness accumulates. When structure is exaggerated, mechanics fail. When diet is altered, physiology suffers. Reclaiming functional large working dogs requires the willingness to question modern norms and the discipline to restore principles that once governed survival. The dogs themselves provide the evidence, if we are willing to listen.
Glickman, L. T., et al. (1997). Incidence of and breed‑related risk factors for gastric dilatation‑volvulus in dogs. Journal of the American Veterinary Medical Association.
Glickman, L. T., et al. (2000). Risk factors for gastric dilatation‑volvulus in dogs. Journal of the American Veterinary Medical Association.
Hall, J. A., et al. (1995). Dietary factors associated with gastric dilatation‑volvulus in dogs. Journal of the American Veterinary Medical Association.
Fossum, T. W. (2018). Small Animal Surgery (5th ed.). Elsevier.
Van Kruiningen, H. J., et al. (2013). Gastric dilatation‑volvulus in dogs: Pathophysiology and prevention. Veterinary Clinics of North America: Small Animal Practice.
Youatt, W. (1845). The Dog. London: Charles Knight.
Turner, C. (1908). The Great Dane. London: L. Upcott Gill.
We use cookies to analyze website traffic and optimize your website experience. By accepting our use of cookies, your data will be aggregated with all other user data.