Doggy-Dogs and Dog-Dogs

Since my last post, I have decided to designate my two general categories of kinds of dogs as Dog-Dogs and Doggy-Dogs, the first being narrated in my previous post about Penny, a definitive Dog-Dog.




In this dog portrait, Penny sits, relatively indifferent to my camera, really not giving a shit, her attention directed to where she will roam, humanless, once she is released from this imposition which promises a treat. Indeed, one wonders if she would sit and stay so obediently otherwise. In others, she seems pained to have to sit, yet again, an attitude I also experienced when photographing an American Bulldog, aptly named Kain where, by the end of the shoot, he was still 'cooperating,' but, if he could roll his eyes, he certainly would have. And, behold Kain, in the same disinterested position as Penny, his focus detached from the human, the longing to roam tugging his attention beyond the frame.



Yes, I did surround him romantically with Hydrangeas (I wonder if he would approve), but Kain is definitely not of 'the flower breed.'

And then there is Timber. He is half Wolf, half Husky with a touch of German Shepherd. Due to the Wild of the Wolf still surging in his genes, never has a dog gazed so intensely into my lens. Timber is a self-contained creature. His far-sightedness for hunting in the wild reflects and flashes in his eyes, especially when he is shot head-on. Even when his gaze is not directed at the lens, this reflection into the power of his retina is still recorded by the camera. My lighting set up was exactly the same as with all the other dogs I have photographed in studio, and I have never had such results before.






Timber is also extremely intelligent and was fascinated by what I was doing with the lights, moving backdrops, and with my camera. I think that if he had hands, he would have jumped up and assisted me!

Now onward to the Doggy-Dog or the lapdog. Doggy-Dogs are part of the Toy Group and were bred to "be small enough to be held in the arms or lie comfortably on a person's lap and temperamentally predisposed to do so." Who are some of the most obvious examples that are currently all sporting stylish rain-coats or colourful sweaters on Vancouver's more affluent streets? The Shih Tzu named after the most beautiful woman in China and also known as the Chrysanthemum dog? But of course. The Pomeranian, so fluffy and elegant? Oh, yes! The Lhasa Apso with the flowing locks? Certainly. The Havanese whose tail swishes and curls to one side and funny bangs that require a pony-tail if the deep brown dreamy eyes are to be seen? Definitely! And, in economically privileged urban centres, the list goes on and on.

So, what do all of the Doggy-Dogs have in common? Well, size, of course: they must be small enough to be picked up, carried around, held close to an adoring human face and beheld as 'So, cute! You're SO cute!' But what about their attitude and disposition in contrast with the Dog-Dog? For, example, would Penny, Kain or Timber ever be seen in Yaletown's "Pawsh Dog Spa"? I would wager thousands that they would not. This is a regular haunt of Yorkies, Bichon Frise and, of course, the luxurious Maltese. Whenever I poke my head into the clipping or massaging area of a Dog Spa, these dogs are thoroughly enjoying themselves! They have happy, satisfied little faces panting and smiling amicably. Would Timber, Kain or Penny be doing the same? No, they would be bolting for the door.

Now, I must say that Doggy-Dogs are often pure-breds. And, they are very easy to photograph in the studio (most don't even require treats as incentive to make them sit and stay in a relatively small space). It is as though they know they cost $2000. Check out Oscar, an adorable 8 month old Havanese.



Oscar made a quick home of the furry blanket, exposing his slipper feet and adorable pink paw pads. OMG! He's SO cute!

Here he is again (I have so many amazing shots of Oscar. He is very easy to photograph in the studio).



Why are two strands of his muzzle hair symmetrically curved and tucked into either side of his mouth? Oscar, did you plan that? Or have such acts of aesthetic perfection just been bred into you over the centuries, unlike Timber's continued ability to see deep into the night.

Now, Teddy is a Doggy-Dog phenomenon unto himself. Perhaps that is because he is a combination breed: half Pekingese, half Maltese. His name says it all in terms of cuddle-ability. He is kept well clipped and his funny, floppy ears are blunt cut. His pink tongue is regularly exposed demonstrating a 'Oh, you're SO cute' predisposition (which is often remarked upon as he ambles in Ambleside).



Teddy also has a most Doggy-Dog preference to pavement or sidewalks over grass and dirt. He is a quintessentially urban poochy. Check him out here, strutting off-leash through Park Royal Village (his 'hood), swishy tail a-swish, sometimes popping into The Gap for a little browse.



Recently, rescue dogs from Mexico and Southern California have become a way of obtaining your best friend. This particular little guy is named 'Punk' and, even though his breed is uncertain, he is definitely a Doggy-Dog. Yesterday, he was seen in a multi-coloured sweater and, in this portrait, he has a feather in his hair.



Punk is also often carried in a baby sling, regularly desiring absolute contact with his human companion.

But, what about the Jack Russell with their intelligence, fearlessness, and athletic abilities? It is noted that Jack Russells will become moody and destructive if not adequately exercised and have the ability to create their own fun. Or, the Welsh Terrier who was originally bred for hunting and, although today they are mainly show dogs, still retain their terrier strength of character. However, the Welsh Terrier can be spotted in Dog Spas, having its coat characteristically clipped in order to maintain the status and shape of its breed and I think I have seen a Jack Russell in a rain coat ... an inconspicuous shade of beige, though.

As the Jack Russell and Terrier examples demonstrate, in any attempt at binaric classification, there are always slippages and blurred boundaries. But, at the same time, generalizations and stereotypes are rooted in reality. Doggy-Dogs are more dependent, have the tendency to provide a deeper satisfaction to their human companions and are often treated as surrogate babies or children. Cute little Doggy-Dogs also possess an aesthetic that must be regularly attended to and can provide an animate accessory for their human companion.

Dog-Dogs, on the other hand, live to roam independently, their unkempt snouts lustily devouring every scent and texture of the earth. Dog-Dogs are more challenging to photograph in a studio and, even outdoors, do best in action shots.

But again, the impossibility of the binary as fixed is demonstrated through Molly, a pure-bred Havanese who was once destined for breeding but, having an imperfect knee joint, became a family dog. Not coddled or obsessively clipped, she is often dragged around by a four-year-old in most uncomfortable and unflattering positions. And Molly runs like the wind when unleashed, fetching a tennis ball that is bigger than her little pure-bred mouth. Molly's independent bliss exposes the wild (or the Timber) at the heart of all dogs, Dog-Dog and Doggy alike where, even those who have been bred for centuries to sit exquisitely on our laps can 'let loose.'

Penny: A Real Dog-Dog

What's the difference between a Dog-Dog and a Dog?

Over Christmas I hung out with Penny, a red/golden retriever who my Dad walks in Lantzville on Vancouver Island. Penny lives behind my parents and, because my Mother (you know, women really do rule the roost) doesn't want a dog, my dog-loving Dad doesn't have one. Enter Penny: a fabulous wild (yet obedient) dog who my Dad can walk whenever he wants and my Mom doesn't have to have anything to do with.

Whenever I go to the Island to see my folks, my Dad and I walk Penny together ... and this 'walk' is not just for her, it is for us as well and is certainly not a typical urban instance of going out to walk the dog. Dog and Human are completely equal on these walks that in all reality are really hikes. My parents live on the edge of a mountain and this is the wonderland where we 'walk the dog.'

Before unleashed into the forest that teams with smells and textures and adventure, Penny must be escorted across the road (where maybe a car goes by every 5 minutes maximum) on a leash. She knows the routine and does her best to quell her trembling anticipation and heel up. (An aside: the last time Penny and I went for a walk, she had already been for two walks that day! And the fact that she should have been tired or maybe even want to loll about on some furry matt made no difference at all to the intensity of her excitement at the fact that she was going to the forest ... again).

Penny is led across the road and a little ways up the trail and then told to sit, which she does on command because, even though she runs wild through the undergrowth, she is disciplined. Perhaps paradoxically, this 'discipline' is what gives her freedom. If she did not sit when told to, heel up, and come when she is called, she would not have the joys and freedom of being off leash. She would be out of control and would, therefore, always have to be (attempted) to be controlled on a leash, tugging and straining and dragging the irked 'owner.'

After Penny sits, she is given a treat, pat excessively, the leash unhooked and then: "Off you Go!" And off she goes, bursting with so much pure alive bliss that puts a smile on any onlooker's face. Penny doesn't believe in trails. It is as though the trail is just come across every now and then, something to bound over and then back, zig-zagging where ever her nose leads. A dog-dog uses their millions of olfactory senses to the maximum and, when you photograph a dog-dog and compare its nose (magnified 100%) to a dog, the nose is almost abject in the excess and development of its 220 million olfactory receptors. In contrast, non-dog-dogs noses are much more clean and contained, their olfactory receptors having the look of an aesthetic texture rather than a teaming organ.

Sometimes Penny's wild forages willy-nilly through the bush lead her quite far from her human companions. We call her and call her and she always comes, thrashing out of some dense BC undergrowth, branches stuck to her fluffy tail, drool gooping from her mouth and nose that just devoured the forest, and the world, raw.

Penny is, indeed, a dog-dog. And dog-dogs don't have to be big; but they are always best photographed outdoors.