Going for the Blue (2 page)
It is a fair assumption that cave people had totems in the fabric of their beliefs. Perhaps it was a white wolf, a black one,
or a yellow one, but it is likely that one form or another was considered sacred in some primitive way. They couldn’t be killed
without taking great risks with the powerful ones who lived in the mists on the mountain or in the face of the storm. If cave
families A and B both had gentler-than-usual maturing wolves of the same color, those wolves would eventually have the opportunity
to mate, and breed differentiation would be unavoidable within the deme over time. Time was one thing there was plenty of,
time and the incredible elasticity of the wolf-dog gene.
As noted, all dogs belong to the same species (
Canis familiaris
) no matter what their breed. The wolf-dog gene package has proven to be remarkably flexible, capable of startling diversity
and adjustment. Consider this logical comparison: All domestic cat breeds, descendants of the North African wildcat, also
belong to a single species,
Felis catus
. Excepting the occasional obese individual, our domestic cats generally weigh between eight and twenty pounds, that is, the
largest normal cat weighs two and one-half times as much as the smallest normal cat. Among dogs the case is amazingly different.
A Saint Bernard or a Newfoundland can weigh some thirty-three times as much as a fully mature Chihuahua. That is flexibility!
In fact, it is awesome. If we had a two-hundred-pound Siamese cat we would need a backhoe to handle the litter box and Valium
for ourselves. Such cats would make nervous wrecks of our canaries, not to mention the local mice. Only at battalion strength
could our dogs worry such cats. Which cushion in the sun could such a cat claim? Every one in the house.
What do we know of the first breeds? There were Greyhound-like dogs in the Middle East and Mastiff-like dogs in Tibet. We
speak of both the Greyhound and the Mastiff today as foundation breeds. Indeed, they are. There were also lap dogs and what
were apparently herding dogs. The very early dates we hear postulated wouldn’t apply to herding dogs. There was nothing for
them to herd until roughly fifteen thousand years ago, where most students still date dog emergence, close to the domestication
of goats, sheep, and reindeer. And so the mystery goes on. How did dogs get to Tibet to become Mastiff-like, from whence they
came back to fight as gladiators in Rome and then helped the legions invade central Europe and the British Isles as war dogs?
(When the Romans got to the British Isles with their Mastiffs, they found the inhabitants there already had a Mastiff of their
own. That latter dog is the ancestor of our Mastiffs today. The Roman dogs we refer to as Neopolitan Mastiffs, or Neos, and
they are not recognized by the American Kennel Club.)
The early distinguishable breeds were essentially utilitarian except for the lap dogs—which were that as well, but in a special
way. Dogs were tools. In time of famine, evolving dogs (unlike totemic or preferentially colored wolves) could be eaten. They
were also noisy and territorial when gigantic cave bears, lions, or strange people from another valley approached the stronghold.
They could assist in hunting because wolves are natural herders and pack workers just as human beings are. If you question
whether the wolf’s herding instinct came down through time to reside in our dogs today, watch Border Collies at work. You
are seeing controlled aggression coupled with amazing intelligence perform near-miracles of cooperation.
So there we have the pattern and the path. By ten thousand years ago true dogs had evolved that could assume any utilitarian
role we can imagine, although, presumably, aesthetics was not yet a factor. Of course, none of us has lived a caveman’s life,
with its ancient imperatives, and there could be elements to the dog-man equation we simply haven’t guessed at. What we do
know is that in the nineteenth century a beauty contest was launched in many breeds, without any diminution of utilitarian
concerns.
Some dogs were singled out for one job only, companionship. The Toy Group (we will be getting to the groups in the chapters
ahead) is made up of what are essentially miniaturized dogs whose task is both emotional and aesthetic. They are joy givers
as companions. Dogs like the Miniature Pinscher, the Yorkshire Terrier, the Pug, and the Maltese have few other assignments
now besides getting and giving love. It is interesting that despite the fact that we know so little about very early men and
women as individuals, we do know that way back at some phase of the Stone Age they had lap dogs. Without this one clue we
would be loath to think of a hairy-shouldered, club-swinging caveman as a sentimental snuggler. Some lap dogs, we can suppose,
were snacks, but somehow I think not all, except in that, as today, they fed their owners’ souls.
In the seemingly hodgepodge miscellany called the Nonsporting Group, breeds like the Standard and Miniature Poodles, French
Bulldog, Dalmatian, Chow Chow, and Boston Terrier are short on anything other than emotional and aesthetic assignments. That
is not true of Border Collies, Labrador Retrievers, Australian Cattle Dogs, and many other guard, farm, and field dogs. In
a good many places they work for a living, but still, in our time they are also expected to attain a high level of beauty
in their conformation. Just when beauty became important and why it began to matter is probably a whole aspect of our own
evolution that we cannot readily decipher. The dogs were our canvases with their incredibly malleable genes, but we were and
still are the artists.
Today man’s concern with dogs is very different from what it was long ago. We are, after all, not talking about the Neolithic,
the New Stone Age—or even the Mesolithic, the Middle Stone Age—but the Paleolithic, the
Old
Stone Age. From then till now many facets of our relationship with dogs have changed. But, then, what hasn’t?
T
here are estimated to be more than twenty million purebred dogs in the United States today. Not 10 percent of these dogs are
likely to see the inside of a show ring. And relatively few of those that are launched by novice and perhaps overexcited owners
will stay there for very long. In most cases one of two things will happen. Either it will quickly become apparent that the
dog (technically
dog
refers only to the male, but the term will be used generically hereafter, with a few exceptions) or bitch (female—and they
don’t call them that for nothing!) does not stand a chance against the really heavy hitters that are lying in wait for someone
with the temerity to challenge them, or the time and cost of continuing or finishing will prove prohibitive. (Finishing means
getting a championship. In an average year the AKC—American Kennel Club—records close to twenty-one thousand new champions,
dogs that have earned enough points to finish.)
Stardom is a lovely concept and an intriguing goal, but it can be a costly state to achieve. It is possible—a little unusual
but possible—to end up with a six-figure tab for just one year of showing, or campaigning, as the search for stardom is generally
called. Add to that the time and the wear and tear of travel on your dog and yourself and you are into one heavy-duty hobby.
This is industrial-weight “fun.” The next steps up from there in the costly Fun department could be a private jet (crew or
owner driven) or perhaps a sports franchise or, of course, a stable full of Thoroughbreds. Still, the dog thing can be done
for less, indeed a lot less if that is the goal. Surprisingly, a great many thousands of people show their dogs to their own
satisfaction for a fraction of that six-figure cost. However, campaigning is never really cheap, and eventually, if you have
the right dog and you are stubborn enough, you may have to dig in and pay out a great deal of money to realize your goals
for your dog—who may love the whole showing gig but does not have goals or ambitions himself.
A purebred dog, very simply, is a member of a breed recognized by the AKC that has achieved a high degree of genetic stability.
There are many dogs of this description that are recognized as breeds in other countries but not in the United States. When
two dogs of one breed are given an opportunity to mate, the puppies that result will look reasonably like their parents and
each other. That, certainly, is the plan. And that reasonable level of predictability is terribly important to some people,
whether or not they are going to show their very good friend. There are standards for each breed (we will be getting to them
soon enough), and those puppies between sixteen and roughly fifty-two weeks of age that appear to be up to the standard, or
at least close to it, can be considered at least potential show dogs. It is a matter of opinion. Those who fall very far short
are considered pet-quality purebred dogs. They can make wonderful pets, they can give and get love along with the best of
them, and, in fact, they may still be very handsome animals. It is just that somehow they don’t conform or aren’t close enough
to the way the standard says they have to look. The shortfall in majestic good looks or movement may not even be discernible
to the layman. The glitch can be so arcane that only breeders, handlers, and judges can pick up on it.
Standards are unforgiving. A dog may be superb at aiding the physically impaired, or fantastic at rescue work or in detecting
guns, bombs, and drugs in luggage, but if it misses meeting the standards by even just a little, it will have no hope in the
ring. There are just too many dogs out there that don’t miss the standards to offer the wanna-be much hope for time in the
spotlight. If you are a dog lover, this really should not matter—loving, after all, is loving. Show-quality purebred dogs
are no better for hugging and tennis-ball chasing than pet-quality purebreds—or random-breds, for that matter.
To indicate how unforgiving the standards can be, I’ll give you some examples of the kinds of things that can go wrong, according
to the official published AKC standards. These are only the briefest samples.
They say that no one is perfect, and so it is with dogs. Each breed has some potential flaws. They are designated as faults
in the standard, and rarely is this beauty test very much easier for one breed with its potential faults than for another.
The Soft-Coated Wheaten Terrier (Terrier Group), for example, must have a nose that is uniformly black and large for the size
of the dog. The eyes must be hazel or brown and have black rims. They had better be. The judges know all these things, and
they will be looking. (When it comes to dog-show judges, by the way, “he” is just as likely to be “she.” That is also true
for handlers.)
The Bulldog (Nonsporting Group) is often erroneously, but without evil intent, referred to as the English Bulldog. There is
no such breed. The Bulldog’s standard says his coat must be straight, short, flat, close, of fine texture, smooth, and glossy
with no fringe, feather, or curl. I love my kids and grandchildren and they are all beautiful and brilliant (of course), but
they couldn’t pass such a stringent test of consistency! The rest of the Bulldog standard reveals that its coat is the easiest
of the hurdles it has to clear. I love Bulldogs, but God love them, a Bulldog is an ambulatory bundle of improbabilities.
The Akita (Working Group) must have lips that are black and not pendulous; the tongue is pink. The tail is large and full,
set high and carried over the back or against the flank in a three-quarter, full, or double curl, always dipping to or below
the level of the back. On a three-quarter curl the tip droops well down the flank. The root is large and strong, as is the
dog itself. The tailbone reaches the hock when it is let down. The hair on the tail must be coarse, straight, and full, with
no appearance of a plume.
The Afghan Hound (Hound Group), according to the standards, has eyes that are almond shaped (almost triangular) and never
full or bulgy, and they must be dark in color. The ears are long and are set approximately on the level of the outer corners
of the eyes. The leather (the meaty, flesh-and-cartilage part of the ear) reaches nearly to the end of the dog’s nose and
is covered with long silky hair. The stipulation that the ears reach
nearly
to the end of the dog’s nose does give the judge a little wiggle room, room for interpretation. What, after all, does
nearly
mean? It is a judgment call, and that is what judges do: they pass judgment. One judge’s “nearly” is another judge’s clean
miss. Any memorialized latitude like that could lay the groundwork for politics and favoritism.
Could
doesn’t mean
does
, but the opportunity is there and so is the history.
…AND NOT SO PURE
In this book we talk a good deal about breeding and puppies, yet we live in this tragic throw-away society where every year
dogs (and cats) by the millions are put to sleep because there aren’t enough good homes for them. Why breed more?
First of all, no pet-quality dog (or cat), purebred or random-bred, should ever be allowed to reproduce. There is no rational
argument for breeding dogs whose genes are not needed to improve the genetic package of its breed. On the other hand, bear
in mind that a dog that has been spayed or neutered can’t show in conformation, so neutering is a serious, permanent decision.
There is no going back. The show-quality dogs we are talking about here don’t end up on the surplus rolls. People are waiting
in line for them. If those people want a show dog or just a pet dog of a specific breed, it is a personal choice accomplished
with their own discretionary funds. In shelters across the country, the number of purebred dogs runs only 18 to 20 percent
of the total shelter-dog population. The other dogs are random-bred and can make super pets—all dogs are potentially outstanding
companions whether purebred or not.
The purebred dogs found in shelters rarely come from the kind of kennels we will be talking about. It’s more likely they were
purchased at an exorbitant price in a pet shop (which usually charges much more than a top kennel would), which in turn bought
them from a middleman who got them from a puppy mill. The whole business is both sordid and profitable. This mass production
of dogs is nevertheless licensed by the federal government, with a sanction from the AKC. All these puppies, however badly
off they may be, still get AKC papers.