American dogs

I recently saw an article warning the public that Wire-Haired terriers are close to extinction. Apparently, fewer than 300 puppies were born last year. You might recognize a wire-hair terrier. Snowy from Tin-Tin was one. So was Asta from The Thin Man movies (or Bringing up Baby, or other movies, he was a busy dog). They were remarkably popular in the 1940s, but now we may run out of them. It’s interesting how dog breeds come into and go out of fashion. It might also be possible tell part of the story of the United States in the popularity of dog breeds.

In the beginning, were pre-Columbian dogs. There were dogs across the Americas. Some of the breeds from back then we still have today. These include the Inuit Sled Dog, Alaskan Malamute, the Chihuahua, and the Carolina Dog. Dogs have long been close companions to people everywhere except Australia, where humans’ favorite canids had to be imported less than 1000 years ago. Many pre-Columbian dogs were working dogs and, like dogs everywhere, highly adapted to their environment and surrounding human culture.

Most Native American dog breeds were eventually wiped out by European arrival. Europeans also brought their own dogs with them. What good is a continent without dogs? And the dog breeds that have risen and fallen in prominence on our continent since Columbus say a lot about our culture.

Consider the colonial era, and George Washington’s hounds. Washington had all kinds of dogs, but he notably kept a pack of hounds for fox-hunting. Washington was part of a Virginia culture that partially mirrored itself on British nobility. Fox hunting hounds were part of the pastoral image of the British landowning elite. George Washington not only had a pack of hounds, he was interested in the breeding of dogs.

Not only did the colonies soon distinguish themselves from Great Britain, the place of hounds changed in our culture, as well. As imitation of the British declined, so did the class connotations of hounds. Now hounds are “country,” they aren’t owned by local elites, but by small boys in books like Where the Red Fern Grows. You don’t use them to chase foxes on horseback, you use them to chase racoons through the woods. There are exceptions, but you don’t see many rich people with packs of fox hounds or fox hounds on the streets of New York.

George Washington didn’t make fox hounds famous, but many dog breeds have become popular due to association with celebrities. Franklin Roosevelt had a Scottish Terrier named Fala. My grandmother still talks about Fala and about the two Scotties her family owned as a result. Many celebrities had Scotties, including Humphrey Bogart and Bette Davis. Toto, from Wizard of Oz, was a Cairn Terrier, which has a similar appearance.

The first half of the twentieth century seemed full of small, clever dogs. Like Asta from The Thin Man, many of the dogs of the early years seemed to be nearly as capable of repartee as the quick-talking stars of screwball comedies. Asta, actually named Skippy, had roles in numerous movies and was the subject of a disputed divorce in The Awful Truth. One small dog, a silver grey toy poodle named Pulaski’s Masterpiece, was not only famous but famously dognapped in the 1950s. These small, smart dogs were somewhat sophisticated. The Boston Terrier was very popular in the 1930s and he looks a bit like he’s wearing a suit.

In the heyday of Hollywood, specific acting dogs could also become celebrities. Rin Tin Tin was brought back to America from a French battlefield by a WWI veteran. He became an incredibly successful acting dog and the inspiration behind dozens of fictional narratives. His real-life story was also compelling enough that Susan Orlean wrote a book about him in 2011. Rin Tin Tin helped popularize German Shepherds in the 1920s. Rin Tin Tin was not the only large breed dog celebrity. Lassie began as a fictional Collie in a short story, but soon enough became a television mainstay. Lassie remains a cultural reference point for many generations.

A dog need not be real to be a celebrity. Snoopy, the beagle, is one of the most beloved characters from Charles Schulz’s Peanuts. Though he does not talk, he is expressive, smart, and incredibly imaginative. He fought the Red Baron and he inspired many people to purchase beagles. There is a lot of nostalgia around Snoopy for people who grew up watching Charlie Brown’s Christmas, but his days of influence are far from over. According to some sources, Snoopy is becoming iconic for Gen Z.

If the first half of the twentieth century placed a good deal of value on small, clever dogs, the second half and the beginning of the twenty-first century turned to big dogs, not necessarily known for intelligence. Since the 1990s, who hasn’t known many a Labrador Retriever or Golden Retriever? These breeds are both prized for being known to be good with families. They look wonderful on Christmas cards. They rarely bite. Tom Hanks’ Barkley in You’ve Got Mail is a beautiful dog, great for walking, but probably not much good in a caper. The Golden Retriever in Marley and Me is not known for his mastery of tricks or even commands. These dogs don’t have their own adventures, like Rin Tin Tin or Snoopy, they are accessories. They exist primarily for emotional support. Since the 2000s, if you want a movie about a kid and a scrappy dog, you probably set it in the past—see My Dog Skip.

Small dogs have not disappeared. Sex & the City helped popularize the Cavalier King Charles, a very classy dog. Many people started buying chihuahuas at the peak of Paris Hilton’s fame. The English Bulldog was extremely popular for a moment. Americans just don’t go after many foxes these days, but we do enjoy shooting ducks and other birds. If you are going to find yourself in a Garden & Gun photoshoot wearing a waxed canvas jacket, there may be a Labrador nearby. People still like nice bird dog for hunting and even a Cocker Spaniel can be a great help—consider Calvin, who got the cover of Garden & Gun.

Newer trends in dog ownership are taking us even further away from dogs with distinct personalities and heroic tendencies (or character flaws) and making them even more accommodating to humans than ever before. People seek “hypoallergenic” dogs. Everyone has allergies now and all dogs have to live inside. New breeds are created all the time. Designer breeds. No one just has a “mutt” these days. People are less likely to take home the next Benji. Instead, they have a Malti-poo or a Labradoodle or a Puggle or a Schnoodle. Dr. Seuss couldn’t keep up.

All of this is only the surface of the American relationship with dogs. Where does Air Bud fit in,, you ask? What about the dog who was part of the Little Rascals crew? What about the 1990s Homeward Bound? But there still seem to be some observable trends.

Americans have become more interested in bigger dogs. Joe Biden’s infamous German Shepherd is no doubt much bigger than Richard Nixon’s infamous Cocker Spaniel. Families, especially, seem to enjoy having bigger dogs. Some people blame the decline of the Wired-Hair Terrier on that. These dogs are not prized for their smart or personalities. We like them because they are supposed to be easy and they provide some emotional support.

As probably everywhere, we are increasingly less interested in working dogs. People still love Border Collies and Australian Shepherds, but they often have to give them up because they can’t handle them. Most of us just don’t have real jobs for dogs to do. Neither do we seem to want dogs that might be seen as “blue collar.” People rarely even use the term “mutt” these days. We want designer dogs. We want high end dogs. We want something that has been overbred only for the purpose of sitting on our laps or fitting under the airplane seat. We want dogs whose genetics we can bore people with.

It also seems that American dog preferences reflect many American preferences in that they are heavily influenced by celebrity and highly susceptible to trends. People see a dog on a television show or in a cartoon strip and they decide it’s the dog for them. People see a celebrity they like with a pet and decide they should have the same one. Winning the annual Dog Show on Thanksgiving can give a breed a popularity boost.

Here are my hot takes: Our tastes in dog breeds have followed a trend of rising sophistication in certain respects. People don’t want “a dog,” they want a specific breed with what they hope is a predictable personality that promises to be a good match with their allergen panel. In the past, only celebrities could afford Pulaski’s poodles, but now we all seek them. This failure to take dogs as they are, to just find a dog in a bombed kennel and keep it, like Rin Tin Tin’s owner did, means that we are ending up with dogs that are less sophisticated in other ways. They have less personality and are distinguished almost only by designer breed. But a dog with a real personality is a real treasure and provides a kind of companionship that other canines can’t. People still talk about George Washington’s “mischievous” hound, Vulcan. Dogs that are less made to order and are picked for their abilities and personality rather than looks and breed popularity, are just better for us. As with opportunities, and people, and life generally—it’s good to take things as they are and not over-engineer them.