“White power!”
When I was a child, I was a connoisseur of all breed dog books. (I am sure that shocks you all).
I often had a hard time pronouncing names. For example, I called the papillon “the pap-pillion.”
And I called the white Russian herding spitz a “Samoid.”
After all, doesn’t that sound like a more reasonable pronunciation of a word that is spell “Samoyed.”
But Samoid sounds like some kind of disease you might catch, so I always thought it was a bit strange.
I knew from the breed books that this name meant “self-eater” in Russian, but virtually every book mentioned that the name was wrong. The Samoyed was a nice dog.
However, one day, I learned that the actual pronunciation is “Samma-yed.”
I thought nothing of the name after that.
It was only when I started discussing laikas breeds with Dave that I asked a very simple question:
Where did the Samoyed come from? I thought there was some connection between the word Samoyed and the Sami people of Fenno-Scandinavia and Russia’s Kola Peninsula.
Through a little Google search, I discovered that the both Nenets and Sami spoke a Uralic language.
And that was enough for me.
However, I wondered about the Russian word “Samoyed” that meant “self-eater.”
It was only when I did a little more research that something disturbing hit me.
Samoyed is word that does apply to the Nenets.
However, it is a word that applies to the Nenets in much the same way the n-word applies to African-Americans.
The Canadian broadcaster and etymologist Bill Casselman writes about this word:
Samoyed was the Russian word for these peoples [the Nenets and their close relatives, the Selkups, the Enets, and the Nganasans] and their group of languages. It had entered Russian as a word by the 16th century, and is certainly never used by these peoples themselves or by educated Russians today, since Samoyed means self-eater or cannibal in Russian. Many English speakers forget or never knew that Slavic languages like Russian descend from the same ancient source as English, namely a language called Indo-European or sometimes Proto-Indo-European. In the word Samoyed, the Russian root samo ‘self’ is directly related to the English word same and the Russian verbal root yed- ‘eat’ is a cognate of the English verb to eat.
So all this time, we’ve been calling this dog by the racial epithet bestowed upon them by their colonizers.
The dog we call the Samoyed is, of course, entirely a Western invention.
The Nenets herding laika comes in many different colors, not just white and “biscuit” or cream-colors.
If one would like to see photos of Nenets herding laikas in their natural habitat, check out these photos by Bryan and Cherry Alexander. These photos were all taken in the Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug in Siberia, the same place where the dogs that founded the Western Samoyed breed originated.
The Russian-American dog expert and zoologist Vladimir Beregovoy traveled to the Yamal Peninsula in 1961, where he encountered the Nenets and their dogs. He writes about how they were used:
In the Arctic Ural area, Yamal Peninsula and further to the east longhair aboriginal dogs similar to the Samoyed are used for herding reindeer. When herding, these dogs help to keep deer herd together on the move to better pastures. In winter, dogs help to trail and find lost reindeer. When dogs find stray reindeer far away from people they stay with them for a long time, sometimes even for few days without food guarding the deer. Dogs are barking a lot that helps their master to find where they are. Endurance, courage and determination of these dogs are amazing.
Another common form of using of aboriginal dogs of Nenets people is hunting. When hunting, these dogs act like bark pointers helping to find and tree grouse, squirrel and other small game. Despite the long coat, some of these dogs are trained and work well as duck retrievers. They do not hesitate to swim or wade in water at a subfreezing temperature. I purchased a two year old male who made an excellent hunting dog.
So these dogs are not entirely different from the other laikas of the region. They were used for a wide variety of tasks– almost all of which were life and death for their owners. (Beregovoy includes photos of a white laika named Noho. Noho’s name meant “Hunter” in Nenets, which tells you he wasn’t just rounding up the deer for his people.)
The history of the Western Samoyed breed begins with a British timber magnate named Ernest Kilburn Scott.
Scott imported the first dogs from Russia and exhibiting them at dog shows, and it was he who made the decision that the breed should be white, cream-colored, or “biscuit.” It was his wife, Clara, who essentially created the breed as we know it the West.
The founding population of these dogs was not particularly large, and this might go a long way to explaining why this breed has several issues with autoimmune disorders and a peculiar renal disorder called Samoyed Hereditary Glomerulopathy. The breed had issues with genetic diversity for most of its time as a fancy breed, but now through more science-based breeding practices, the inbreeding coefficients have been reduced.
However, it doesn’t change the fact that these dogs were founded by a finite number of founders, and the only genes in these dogs are those of their founders.
When I suggested to a Samoyed breeder on Facebook that she consider breeding her dogs to Nenets herding laikas, she was apoplectic.
She claimed that I was telling her to cross two different breeds!
Which is cardinal sin in the blood purity cult that is the modern dog fancy.
Never mind that these dogs and the Nenets breed are exactly the same breed. They are about as different as European golden retrievers that have been bred for the bench are from those that have been bred for hunting.
But of course, the Nenets dogs come in more colors besides white and cream, and therefore, they aren’t the same dog.
Never mind that the Nenets were breeding these dogs for centuries before the so-called dog fancy cult got its mitts on them. The Nenets were breeding their dogs to do things and live in much harsher conditions than you can find in the United States or Western Europe.
With aboriginal dogs, there is always the assumption that the European-based dog fancy was always superior to their “barbaric” owners in their motherlands.
Of course, in the West, most Samoyeds don’t do anything resembling what their ancestors did or what their cousins still do for the Nenets.
One could count on one hand the number of fanciers at dog shows all the dog shows in history who have ever relied upon dogs for survival.
So with this breed, we have everything that is wrong when Western cultural imperialism runs headlong into the world of dogs.
Here have a dog breed that is given a name that is a racial epithet for their original breeders and that has been selectively bred out of a much more diverse landrace based upon one European couple’s ideal of beauty is.
And as if to add poetry to all this racialism, the preferred color of this dog is white.
The Western Samoyed is really a white power dog!
I think the first thing that has to be changed about this dog is its name. The alternative name for this breed is “bjelkier.”
I’d prefer to call it the Nenets laika.
But I know now that I will NEVER use the word “Samoyed” for this breed.
In recent years, the oldsquaw duck has disappeared from bird books.
You cannot find it.
The current name is “long-tailed duck,” and the reason why the name was changed is because the word “Squaw” is offensive to Native Americans.
Now, I know that political correctness has run amok among our discourse as a society, but if you’re part of a club that is being attacked for racialism– as the Western dog fancy clearly is– you’d think you’d try to clean up names like Samoyed.
But because being a reactionary turkey brain is a very common condition among Western dog fanciers, I bet that many don’t care. I bet some of them even like that they call this dog by a racial pejorative.
That might be the reaction, but it’s not good PR.
I happen to like this breed very much, but I think as it exists in the West is a caricature of what it actually is in its homeland.
I would certainly hate if other laika breeds went this road, and this story should be a cautionary tale to anyone wanting to bring aboriginal breeds into the West.
The Western fancy isn’t designed for dogs like these.
It wants to sequester gene pools and standardize everything.
An aboriginal dog cannot exist under such a regime. Not a single one of these aboriginal dogs was founded in the way that the Western fancy founds breeds, and not a single dog is maintained the way aboriginal strains are.
So let’s hope that the West Siberian laika and the Telomian stay way from this bunch.
The Samoyed as it exists now has a sustainable gene pool now, but the breed as it exists now is a fiction.
A fiction.
A fiction that is easily debunked once one reads something about the Nenets and their amazing dogs.
Very interesting; thanks for sharing this.
They’ve even begun reimporting these dogs. Last year the Swedish Lapphund was recognized by the AKC. Its a Samoyed in color.
Regardless of the breed’s past, many of the present-day Sammies are really nice dogs. My friend who has suffered with MUltiple Sclerosis for many years is helped immensely by her Service Dog, a Samoyed. Actually, he’s the second Sammy that she’s had assisting her; without them, her life would be very different. And yes, they both were from that “showdog” breeding so often disparaged. I think that my friend would say that in many ways, she does rely on her dog for survival…or at least giving her the ability to live independently.
I didn’t say I didn’t like this breed.
At least some of the folks in the Canadian Inuit Dog community has enough sense to change the name from “Canadian Eskimo Dog”.
I had NO idea! Fascinating stuff! This is why I love this blog. You’re an even bigger dog nerd than I am.
To paraphrase Romney, I’m a severely nerdy person.
I love these husky types! Also, our daughter Rebecca, as an infant, referred to “Allstations”
Do you have Yakutian Laikas in the US? The first Swiss-bred YL-litter will be born in a couple weeks here. I wonder what’ll happen to those dogs if they become more popular.
We do not have Yakutian laikss yet.
Here’s the thing, I like working versions of breeds and would always prefer to have that than the artificial version. But isn’t the show type often easier to live with as a pet?
E;g working lab/retriever types don’t usually do well as house dogs with minimal exercise (Marley and me for example), the show type tends to be a lot easier going and better for this purpose.
Should people just not have certain types of dog as low energy pets then?
Adam
A neighbor is having just this experience as we write. She has had 2 beagles in the past and really loved them, so she bought another. But this time she bought it from a farmer who breeds rabbit dogs. The new dog wants to hunt and when she can’t hunt she howls and causes mischief.
So yes, when somebody buys a dog of a certain breed (s)he needs to consider whether they want a companion or a working dog. That’s not to say that some working dogs don’t also make great companions, but they need an appropriate outlet for that energy and drive.
This is why I’m skeptical of the line of thinking that swears that breeding only working dogs will solve the problems dogs have. Working bred dogs very often are too much dog for the average person.
Then you have the problem with small companion dogs. They have no work, but people want them. If your standard is that a dog must be conformed to its purpose, how can you say that a pug is not conformed to its purpose?
Being a pet is a job – and a difficult one. Many dogs “flunk out” at being pets. If the pug is a lousy pet, it’s not conformed to its purpose. And, unfortunately, many are lousy pets – I’ve met a few that were downright nasty.
Here’s a breed standard for the pet dog: It should be free of conditions that lead to vet bills or discomfort (skin/joint/eye problems, allergies). It should be easily socialized and habituated. It should have a calm, stable temperament, be safe with children and readily accepting of all people. It should be able to run, jump, and play free of pain. It should be easy to groom and keep neat (even among hairy breeds like my rough collies, some dogs are unmanageable hairballs who need to be shaved, others go their entire life with nary a mat and shed burrs easily).
I can see that type of thing in this little Patterdale I have. She was bred to hunt, and all she wants to do is hunt, hunt, hunt. She’d drive a normal person crazy. When I take her out to pee before bedtime, I must spend a half hour or more letting her hunt every nook and cranny before she settles down enough to do her business. She’s a great little dog, but most people couldn’t handle a ball of energy like she is. She’ll tire out my wolf pack of wolfhounds playing.
For people who want just a family pet I see no problem with breeding “show” dogs that aren’t quite up to par with their herding, hunting, or retrieving ancestors or counterparts; not everyone needs an actual working or hunting dog. What I feel is wrong is developing dogs with no muzzles, no legs, no hips or a plethora of other physical maladies caused by the show ring mind-set. The dog sleeping on your couch that is expected to do no more than be your kids loving pet or your pseudo child doesn’t have to be the active, valuable asset to survival its ancestors were, but it should still be able to breath, walk and if desirable, even reproduce naturally as an animal should. If someone wants to make outrageous fashion statements let them design hand bags or hats for Lady GaGa, but leave dogs alone.
The two breeds I’m most familiar with where there is a huge split are Jack Russells and golden retrievers. Working type golden retrievers are the border collies of gun dogs, and they will retrieve until they are exhausted. The working strains of Jack Russell, which isn’t all of them BTW, will hunt groundhogs all day long. My grandpa had one that hunted all day every other day. She just wore herself out hunting them and needed a day to rest.
But you can get toned down strains of Jack Russell–often with the verboten short legs– that are much calmer and more suitable for the home. The nonworking strains of golden retriever are much easier to live with than the working strain ones, which if not stimulated enough will start figuring out ways to entertain themselves– like opening doors and running off.
Patterdales are extremely popular round here. They are, to a dog, livewires who look like they are going to explode in 360 different directions all at once. Almost every owner I’ve talked to got them from a rescue or off someone who couldn’t handle them and have some regrets about taking them on as a pet. The only dog I know that’s anything to do with a patterdale is one that’s crossed with a pug and is a very nice little dog in looks and temperament.
This is my first experience with a Patterdale. I’ve had cairns, rat terriers and a Jack Russell in the distant past to control vermin around my stables (and my first dog was a rat terrier I “inherited” from my older brother when he outgrew her), so I knew what to expect when I bought her. I have chicken coops, pigeon lofts and shed and barns, and a few years ago I realized I had a growing rat problem (after being rat free for many years, I assume they migrated here from farms only a half mile away, though to do so they had to travel through uncultivated forest from any direction). Though my big dogs kill rats with enthusiasm, along with whatever raccoons and opossums that are foolish enough to investigate my bird pens, and squirrels that get in our (wild) bird feeders, they’re too big to get into tight places, and under some pigeon lofts I built up on blocks. I don’t like using poisons, so I decided to get a terrier that could take the battle to the rats where they live and hide.
I chose a Patterdale since they aren’t being bred for the show ring, but for their hunting abilities. Since there are no breeders of Patterdales in my area (New England and northern New York) that I know of, I ordered a pup from a breeder in the Great Lakes (U.S.A.) area, and had her delivered by a guy who carries dogs around the country. When we got Sophie, as we named her, at around four months old, I was surprised by how thin and fine her coat was; very little protection from either the environment or prey. The next thing I discovered was that she wasn’t just the mindless little hunting machine I had expected, but was a very bright dog (and I am surrounded by bright dogs). The people who bred and raised her had definitely taught her what “No” meant, and to me, that’s the most important command a dog can know. She was already housebroken when she came here, and the first night we had her we took her to bed with us (who could resist that tiny black puppy?), and that’s where she has slept ever since.
By six months old she was killing rats on her own, and probably would have even younger had her I allowed her to hunt, but I wanted her totally under my verbal control before I just set her free. At first she showed as much interest in killing my free-ranging chickens as she did rats, but I immediately broke her of that just by using the command “No”; she’s very sensitive to my moods, and it actually bothers her when I sound angry. She’s a little hyper in the house, especially when she’s playing with MacTavish, a ¾ Irish wolfhound, ¼ Alaskan malamute pup we’re raising, but she’s not a “barker”, and actually listens to every command I give her, and will stop whatever she’s doing and sit calmly when I tell her to: just not for long. If she and MacTavish get too rambunctious, I simply say, “Hey!” rather loudly, and they’ll both stop and look at me, and I’ll send Mac to his bed for some “time out”, and tell Sophie to get on the couch (she’s the only dog allowed on any furniture other than the “dog couch”). They’ll both settle down for a few minutes, but soon one or the other will slip across the room and entice the other into play once more. If that’s a dog’s worse offense, I can live with that.
When company arrives and the dogs get a little too friendly, I’ll send the wolfhounds to their beds, and tell Sophie to get in her crate (where we keep her when we leave the house for any length of time), and she’ll trot over and get in it and stay there with the door open.
I have all my dogs trained not to go out a door until invited (called by name), except for the first thing in the morning; then when I open the door after a long night in the house, the dogs burst out like horses out of a starting gate, something I rather enjoy. Sophie quickly learned to wait at a door, and as impatience as she is to get out and hunt (and that’s basically what she lives for; too hunt), she’ll stand at the threshold of an open door as I call the wolfhounds (Branigan, Grizzly, Boudicca and MacTavish), and Maggie, the old Labrador, and Czara, the Caucasian Ovcharka (yes, those are our house dogs) out one at a time by name. If she’s not called out with the rest of the dogs, she’ll lean out and look around the corner of the door frame as the big dogs tromp (as opposed to Sophie’s little pitter-patter trot) down the length of the porch, but pulls her head back when I say, “Look out.” and close the door. I never have to worry about her trying to rush out past me.
The one thing that amazes me the most, though, is Sophie’s ability to shut down in the house, something I’ve never observed in a terrier before. She lies quite calmly on the couch next to my chair, as I sit in front of my computer desk and work on a writing project at night, occasionally tapping my arm with a front foot to let me know when she has to go out (if she does it more than once every couple hours she’s lying, and just wants to hunt rats), but as long as Mac doesn’t entice her into a round of wrestling, she’s content to stay next to me and chew on one of her many chew-toys (she destroys them fast, though). When it’s time to go to bed she knows what I’m doing, and will trot to the stairs and wait for me about six steps up. As soon as I start up the stairs she runs on ahead of me, and when I enter the bed room she’ll be sitting on the bed watching me. She’ll sit there like that as I go about my before bed routine, brushing my teeth, undressing, etc., and when I slide under the covers she’ll come up to my pillow, turn towards the foot of the bed and slide her nose under the top covering (we like a cool bedroom, and it’s still rather cool here in Vermont, so we have a heavy quilt on top of the blanket and sheets on the bed), and wait for me to lift it up for her. She’ll then crawl under the quilt, settle down as close to me as she can get, and stay there the rest of the night, perhaps changing position now and then, but basically sleeping the night through. Catherine, my other bed-mate, is not thrilled with this little dog constantly between us at night, but she loves Sophie, too, so puts up with it. In the morning I’ll usually wake to find Sophie has slid up to my shoulder and has her head on my pillow or arm. As soon as she knows I’m awake, she’ll come to my face and give me some kisses until I say “Stop”, and if I choose to go back to sleep for a few minutes, she’ll curl back up and wait for me. If I go to the bathroom during the night she remains in bed, and doesn’t even come out from under the covers.
Once I get up and start doing my morning routine (teeth, clothes, etc.), she’ll hop off the bed and greet Branigan and Grizzly, who sleep on their own beds at the side of mine, but as soon as I slide my feet into the Crocs that are my house shoes, she’s up on the bed and standing on her hind feet, waving her front feet in the air and anxiously waiting for me to pick her up and carry her downstairs (a routine we established when she was just a pup and still continue). Bran and Grizzly will also rise off their beds when I slide my feet into those shoes, and precede us downstairs (I learned long ago not to try to go down stairs in front of a pair of wolfhounds).
If at any time during the day I decide to take a quick nap, and flop onto the (human) couch, Sophie will jump up with me and snuggle close, and won’t move until I get up.
If I have one complaint about this little dog, it is that she is so intent on hunting rats that whenever I take her out to do her business, I have to give her at least a half hour of hunting around the porches and flower beds before she’ll settle down and actually tend to business. But all in all, this is a tremendous little dog that almost anyone, not just a “Dog Nut” like me could live with.
But Sophie is the only example of the Patterdale breed I know, so I can’t say the entire breed is as good as she, and I’m sure they’re not.
Funnily enough, every one that I know well locally is a male and to be honest I don’t think their breeders are that particular what they breed for and who they sell to as patterdales seem to be the in dog of the moment round my part of the north of England. Staffies are the number one, but the patterdales are catching up with the very popular jack russells in numbers. I seem to get to know patterdale owners as my bearcoat has a thing for patterdales – she likes a bit of rough and they seem to like blondes – he-he! The usual regrets are they didn’t realize how much exercise they need and how pugnacious they are with dogs of the same sex. But to be fair, I know an inordinate number of patterdales that have had at least one previous home.
Sophie sounds lovely and she’s getting her full quota of exercise and mental stimulation that she needs with you. Is she smooth coated? I say that because of how you explained her. Did her coat grow in harsher and denser as she got older? The ones round here are mostly black and broken or rough coats, but the smooths – hell, nothing about a patterdale even looks soft, not even their coat – he-he!
Sophie is a black smooth coat with very fine and short hair. Just the little rubbing from her rolled leather collar has almost worn her throat bare; not her neck, just a patch right under her jaw. She’s very muscular and solid, but has rather fine bone, and almost looks like she has some whippet in her (she has that coursing hound ear-set). She’s very well-mannered with my other females, but doesn’t take any grief from any of them, and has a growl for a dog three times her size. Of course, most of the brutes I have here could eat her in one bite, so I make sure there’s no chance for conflict.
As I said, Sophie is the first Patterdale I’ve ever seen, to say nothing of owned, but from what I know of the breed by my association with her, I’d advise almost anyone I know looking for a good, small dog to get one. But of course, there are all types of personalities in every breed, and I can’t make a sound judgement based on just one dog. Sophie may just be unique, and I would be sure to tell that to anyone questioning me about what kind of pets they make.
As I write this Sophie is curled up on a blanket on the couch not two feet from me. If I leave the room she follows, and when I come back to this chair she jumps back on the couch and curls up. She’s as loyal as a dog can be, and even in a room full of people there’s no doubt that I’m her man. The only time she’s a little wild in the house is when she plays with that six month old, 90 lb. puppy, and then she wears him out before they’re done.
But get her out amongst the pens and sheds and she’s all hunt. You can tell this little dog was bred to hunt. I haven’t hunted myself in years; I have a bad knee that makes traveling through the woods difficult, but I just may take up squirrel hunting again just to give Sophie an outlet for her energies; at least for part of the year. I know she’d make a great squirrel dog.
She could be part whippet as patterdales are working dogs and terrier outcrossing to whippets is a classic recipe. I should imagine there are a lot fewer patterdales in the USA than my part of the UK as I live the other side of the Pennines from where they were developed. I’d think that patterdales in the USA would be impossible to sustain without some judicious outcrossing at some point as there can’t be that many.
Betcha they have Italian Greyhound behind them. Not that certain terrier people would want to admit to this.
I have a foster dog right now who, except for a tail, could be mistaken for a Patterdale. She has more bone and muscle across the shoulders than your average IG, and her chest is not as deep. “Onyx” on the following page:
http://www.igrescueohio.org/dogs.php
Excuse me, that was supposed to be “my whole pack of wolfhounds playing”. I need a proof reader.
I’m pretty sure I missed half a sentence out of my first post. Or mixed the order up. Something happened between my brain and fingers that no proofreader could help me with. I was thinking how cute the patterpug we meet is and scrambled my brain.
What this blog’s author has done, is take a few bits and pieces of factual information…mixed it with a bunch of misinformation…then added his own wild theories and speculations into the mix.
It is a shame some readers are finding this “fascinating,” as it is far from accurate.
Unfortunately, many breed historians from Europe would agree with the writer. Most people already know that Samoyeds are a show-fancy version of the Nenets Herding Laikas.
Translation: “I don’t like what you said. I can’t actually identify anything inaccurate. So I’ll insinuate you are a liar but won’t actually prove you are lying or present one piece of counter evidence. When challenged, I’ll leave a long angry comment that still will not provide any facts, but will claim that I have no time to provide facts, just provide insults.”
Debz, what information in the blog post is wrong? If you can enlighten us, please do.
I’m not sure what the author’s true motivation is. It seems (to me) that he has a gripe against anyone who owns modern dogs. He attempts to justify that stand by piling criticism on those who exported the dogs from their original stock, anyone who developed the various breeds, anyone who doesn’t use the dogs for their original purposes, etc.
He has a lot of different criticisms, running off in all sorts of different directions, including (but not limited to) the breed’s name in the Western world. Seems to me that he is going along with the current trend for “political correctness.” Personally, I consider this trend a large load of manure.
That said, let us start by exploring a bit of the history of the name “Samoyed.” The author opines that he will never call one of these dogs a Samoyed again, due (apparently) to his perception that it lacks the element of “political correctness” so many these days require.
At any rate, here are some of the varying theories behind the origins and meaning of the word our blog author so greatly despises:
The Samoyedic languages ( /sæmɵˈjɛdɨk/ or /ˈsæmɵjɛd/) are spoken on both sides of the Ural mountains, in northernmost Eurasia, by approximately 30,000 speakers altogether.
The Samoyedic languages derive from a common ancestral language called Proto-Samoyedic, and they form a branch of the Uralic languages. They are not a diverse group of languages, having separated perhaps in the last centuries BC (Janhunen 1998), and are traditionally considered to be an outgroup, branching off first from the other Uralic languages.
The term Samoyedic is derived from the Russian term samoyed (Russian: самоед) for some indigenous peoples of Siberia. It is sometimes considered derogatory because its etymology has been interpreted as originating from Russian: Samo-yed: “self-eater”.Therefore sometimes the word Samodeic is suggested by some ethnologists. Other interpretations of Samoyedic etymology suggest that the term originates from an expression same-edne, meaning the Land of the Sami peoples.
Another interpretation is as follows:
The name Samoyed comes from the Samoyedes, a semi-nomadic people of Asian decent. Historians tell us that, as the population of Asia grew, larger tribes drove others (with their families, their herds, and their dogs) away to other regions, so there would be enough natural food found for those remaining. The Samoyed peoples “of the family of Sayantsi” were part of this migration, and they moved northwest. In the late 1800’s European exploreres and historians described them as a race in the transition stage between the “Mongol pure and the Finn”. The name “Samoyede” translates to “living off themselves” which reflects their strong, self-sufficient culture. The two principle Samoyede groups are the Nentsy and the Entsy.
I would offer the opinion that we may never know for sure the etymology and intent of the word Samoyed. As far as the naming scheme for the breed of dog, I would suggest it was entirely without malice on the part of those Europeans who originally brought specimens of the breed out of Siberia.
What, then, would the author suggest we call these dogs? Bjelkier? How about Samoan Husky? That is one popular alternative we hear quite often. Personally, I call mine B.W.F.F.s.
Another attempt at that same one. NO etymologist agrees with that interpretation.
My view is that the dog should be called a Nenets laika and the entire landrace combined into a single “breed.”
Why did the Russians stop using that word for the Nenets people if it were nothing more than that?
No one can answer that question without understanding that this word is a pejorative. It’s not a noble savage piece of hokem.
So to take your comments further, I being from a long line of the human should stop going to the grocery store and stop using my car. I should start doing what my ancestors did which is hunt for all my food? Where should I live in a make shift lean to in my back yard? Better yet, next to the highway right?
Times change and so do people. Be careful what you wish for. Times change and so do items. I don’t recall seeing images of computers drawn on cave walls. Please correct me if I’m wrong (no need to, I’m right).
You have a choice in life; accept change or complain to others. I see which way you have gone. If you don’t like the way the Western life has changed then don’t pay attention. Get off the “World Wide Web” and stick to your own journal.
It’s great that you know how to use Google but do you know how to use a book?
It’s great that you know all about this type of dog. Where did you learn it, in a school?
Hmm, I think we have someone that doesn’t like the way Western “people” have made life better for themselves. It’s our life leave us alone. Go back to your rocks and sticks and mind your own business.
You talk about political correctness but yet you “choose” to complain about a life style you obviously wish for yourself.
We don’t need your complaints in our land. We have enough people complaining already. Bring the world your knowledge to improve (the world) but leave your whining in the trashcan where it belongs.
If I wanted to hunt for my food, I would not have a show dog.
If I wanted to herd my reindeer, I would not have a show dog.
If I wanted to enjoy my dog and everything it represents or represented, I choose to do so.
Your research contains great information. Too bad your ruined it with your personal opinions and thoughts. Next time keep your personal opinions and thoughts to yourself and maybe you will see your hard work pay off. Oh, I guess I should need to tell you this as you are better than us dumb and spoiled “Western” people…
By the way; No need to respond. Your comments don’t mean a thing as you cannot keep to the facts of your research.
That’s entirely a misreading of what I wrote.
All I was saying is that Western dog breeders, going way back, always looked down on aboriginal dog breeders and always assumed they “improved” them through Western breeding practices. I merely saying that these aboriginal people knew how to produce very high quality dogs, and they still produce them today.
Because they had to.
It not just isolated to aboriginals, but also within our own society.
Kennel-men thought they had to create uniform-looking dogs from original working stock, then they turned around and resold those dogs back to the farmers or hunters because pedigreed dogs were supposedly superior. You see this in the early history of many breeds.
In the case of the Samoyeds, early kennel-men took the aboriginal dogs, re-developed them and sold them to mushers who were looking for working dogs under the guise papered dogs are superior.
Also, this is a fact: This breed is based upon what one couple thought was ideal. They selected from a much more morphologically distinct landrace to create a breed.
Opinion: This is stupid.
Can you tell the difference?
Speaking of the one couple’s ideals, it’s interesting that they decided that white is the “best” color. Coppinger mentioned white being a preferred color of certain shepherds for their flock guardians. Entire breeds have been founded on whiteness.
It seems to be a human thing, rather than a Eurocentric thing, to assign special meaning to white animals – elephants, buffaloes, camels. Maybe because white is less common, and because it stands out against the more “natural” palette?
In response to Jana’s mentioning white dogs being the preferred color: I’ve long wondered if shepherds preference for white dogs may have simply been because they sheared their dogs when they sheared their sheep, and just mixed the dog hair in with the wool. In countries where there was an abundance of water, which could be used to die wool, white wool and white dog hair were preferred because they could be dyed any color. But in areas with little water to spare, they raised colored sheep and dogs (including white), and simply wove cloth of the wool/hair color they had. I have done no research on this, but it seems like it would make sense. Anyone know anything about the facts?
Most flock guardians are white; herders, required to move the stock, are colored more like a predator. The Samoyed herded by staying with the stock when the tribe moved and protecting it from predators who would pick off stragglers. Today, stock moves off a properly working Samoyed much as they will move for the guarding Pyr or Komondork
Not true, actually. The European breeds like the Great Pyrenees & the Maremma Sheepdog are white & those & the other related BWD (Big White Dog) breeds (Polish Tatra Sheepdog, Slovak Cuvac, Hungarian Kuvasz, etc.) tend to be the only ones most people in the west have ever heard of. But there are over 30 breeds of livestock guardian dogs, & most of them come in many other colors, including white but also black, black & tan, brindle, sable, agouti, particolor, ticked, gray, fawn, red, blue, liver, etc., & can be any of these with any varying degrees of white markings or no white at all. So pretty much every color found in dogdom except merle. Some, like the Tibetan Mastiff, are almost never white. I have four Central Asian Shepherds & none of them are white. One is fawn & black (like a Dane) with a small white cross on her chest, one is red & black brindle with white badger markings, one is black brindle with black sable & a little bit of white on her chest & toes, & one is black brindle with a tiny white snip, white under her chest, & a tiny bit on her rear toes. Our import puppy that we are getting soon is Irish-marked gray fawn (I think, lol. His coat is still changing color. He won’t be white, though.)
The funny thing about Tibetan Mastiffs is you would expect white ones to be especially sought after due to the folklore and traditions in Tibet. The TM’s historical significance is intricately bound to the mythical white snow lion which adorns the flag. Yet the dogs held in highest esteem are all black (most TMs in ancient artworks are black), black and tan (one of their nicknames is four eyes as they always look awake) and vibrant gold coloured dogs. In fact, the only place white was desirable is a small mark on the chest as it was a sign of a brave dog. White toes and especially tail tips were quite undesirable. Yet the white ones appear to have come about when the Chinese hijacked the breed and started crossing in all sorts of other dogs.
DAC, I don’t know if any LGDs are traditionally sheared along with the sheep (shame on me – need to do more research on this). I should imagine their coats have developed to be self shedding and as free from any grooming being needed as possible, though I could imagine maybe the corded coated dogs getting a crop in summer.
The Mongolian nomads reputedly highly value their Bankhar’s undercoat rather than mixing it in with the sheep. They called it dog cashmere and it supposedly knitted up into very warm socks and vests. I have some of my TM’s coat from his last spring moult (both breeds are the same landrace and only moult once a year). I can attest to it being beautifully soft and warm to the touch as well as odourless and non greasy. If only I could spin wool or knit, I’d use it.
Nope, they’re not. A correct LGD coat requires no grooming at all, not even brushing. There is a harsh guard coat similar in texture to a wolf & a dense woolly undercoat which is shed completely in warm weather. The exception is the Komondor, which either has to be carefully corded (a HUGE amount of work) or clipped off. Probably why Komondors are not very popular working dogs. Everyone I know using Koms as LGDs keep them cut short & while they love their dogs, for me that is *way* too much work. Coats which mat excessively are becoming a problem in Pyrs but a *correct* Pyr coat is self shedding, self cleaning, water-repellant, & non-matting, just like every other LGD out there, long or short (some breeds come in both long & short coats, such as CAS, CO, TMs, & Gamprs).
Phew! I thought that might be the case. I love my TM’s coat and it’s one of the breed’s many positives to my eye. He’s so easy to groom. In fact, for 11 months of the year I barely touch him other than with my hands just to make sure there’s nothing lurking underneath and because we both love the contact. Or with a microfibre cloth to get any mud off, which he’s not as keen on. It would dry and drop out naturally in an hour or so, but I’d rather get it off him than my floors, walls and furniture.
Sounds familiar:
http://cynoanarchist.wordpress.com/2011/01/05/zardin/
The landraces had such variety, and typical doesn’t have to mean template. It seems to be a feature of most breed histories, though, that at one point a certain dog is singled out as “the one” that the look of the entire breed is based upon.
The old collie landrace had plenty of variety – some had more narrow heads than others. No need to mix borzoi in there, just like there was no need to mix a heavy-coated dog with an afghan. Just breed the most extreme examples you can find and you can change the look of the breed in a few generations.
I also suspect the invention of the hair dryer made dogs like Zardin more popular in the show ring :) His coat looks thinner along the backline. Does an afghan’s coat grow that way, or does it need clipped?
“The landraces had such variety, and typical doesn’t have to mean template. It seems to be a feature of most breed histories, though, that at one point a certain dog is singled out as “the one” that the look of the entire breed is based upon.”
In the histories of Afghans and Salukis I have read, invariably, the upper class British who were ‘establishing’ the dog in the West felt that they knew what should be considered ‘typical.’ Typical invariably meant, “the dogs that I have/like.” (There were people who thought black and tan Salukis were ‘impure’, for instance, because the grand dame who was one of the first breeders in England had only red/gold/cream dogs.) Amps is especially hypocritical in singling out Zardin (and by extension, her own dog Sirdar of Ghazni) as typical, because she also owned dogs that were of the leggy, almost naked, so-called ‘desert type.’ I would note, also, that she did not hold up her own heavily coated Khan of Ghazni as the second coming of Zardin, probably because Khan was a rather ugly looking, unremarkable dog. He did not have the presence that Zardin and Sirdar had.
Sirdar of Ghazni, btw, was a wonderful looking dog, every bit worth his hype, and would be considered sparsely coated today.
“I also suspect the invention of the hair dryer made dogs like Zardin more popular in the show ring :) His coat looks thinner along the backline. Does an afghan’s coat grow that way, or does it need clipped?”
The coat of the Afghan hound is supposed to be ‘…shown in its natural state; the coat is not clipped or trimmed.’ Afghans have a short haired ‘saddle’ down the back; some have short hair on the lower legs, known as patterning. The saddle is supposed to be natural, in reality, it is often clipped or stripped, because breeding for more coat means the natural saddle carries a lot of fuzz on it. Of my own dogs, the only ones who have a natural saddle all the time are heavily patterned, most of the others have fuzzy saddles. Afghan pups will not develop a true saddle until they have shed the puppy coat. In bitches, this happens after the first heat, in dogs, it make take several years. If you see a young Afghan with a smooth short saddle, it has been clipped or stripped.
Amusing article about developing a natural coat here:
http://www.afghanhoundtimes.com/fairy.htm
If you would like to see many pictures of modern show Afghans, go here:
http://afghansonline.com/front.htm
Contrast these dogs with modern native Afghans (this film company is producing a documentary on the dogs and their owners, there are many pics on their timeline):
https://www.facebook.com/KuchiFilms
IOW, ‘typical’ has many definitions, depending on who is deciding what is typical. Sir Terence Clark, who has seen native dogs in many, many countries, uses ‘typical’ to mean that the dog fits in with others in the same locality. As in, not an outlier. This is quite the definition that I prefer.
The problem with your statement is most of these developed breeds only became strictly as show-dogs after the 1970s. Before the 1970s, kennel-people tried to sell their pedigreed dogs as working dogs. Obviously, some still do nowadays, but the advertising is not as predominant as it used to be.
I suspect that many names are derived from some other group’s epithet for them (many Amerindian tribal names are this way). And more than one Groenendael was called “devil” or some other epithet as the original name. Sami seems to be the accepted name of (one of ) the pastoral peoples who have these dogs in the original and a name derived from their name would be just as good as Laika. So some modification to “dog of the Sami” would seem ok.
I know a few breeders of these dogs and not all are fixated on “never cross to the original” or never cross to color. The problem seems to be that the Russians removed many native dogs during the USSR period and replaced them with “officially acceptable” dogs — some of which had no relationship to the original dogs and some that didn’t do the original dog’s jobs either. So I think some are trying to find out more information about the dogs before taking ‘the leap” — I know a lot of assertions are made about former iron curtain breeds regarding health, etc that just ain’t so — the dogs don’t appear to have genetic problems because the reporting and testing isn’t always reliable. The first step would be to determine how widespread the problem is with Sams and how hard to remove it without outcrossing. That some breeders (even in the AKC world) CAN and WILL take that leap is evidenced by the Basenji project and the (at long last) acceptance into registration of the Dalmatian/Pointer project dogs. But yes, the roadblocks are significant and it takes one or two really devoted breeders to do it.
Yes, a lot of dogs that are “sport” or professional dogs are too much for many people. But it isn’t a case that one has to have “all one or all the other” — there are dogs that have midrange “intensity” (I dislike that word as it isn’t really correct) and will happily spend the day hunting when you want to hunt and loafing when you want to do that. There are a few Sami out in the herding venues and more that do sledding/weight pull and carting on a “functional but not obsessional” level.
It’s not a dog of the Sami. The Sami are not Nenets. They speak a related language, but are not the same people.
so what are the dogs shown here? http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Nordic_Sami_people_Lavvu_1900-1920.jpg
or here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/28772513@N07/6963738273/
(the latter site has a number of photos of dogs).
Is it your conclusion that the existing dogs have no relation to these, but to the Nenet dogs instead?
Those a Lapphunds. It’s actually not clear if the Nenets dogs are related to the Lapphunds. I will tell you this: Nenets and Sami (Lapps) do speak a related language. But the Sami are clearly European people and the Nenets are Asians.
The Samoyed and the KC Swedish Lapphund have very different mtDNA sequences.
But that doesn’t meant hat much.
Mu guess is the Nenets dogs are actually more closely related to the West Siberian laika than to the Swedish or Finnish Lapphund.
One question we would have to ask is how likely Nenets and Sami people had indirect contact with each others. How likely it is a dog derived from stock of Nenets territories to eventually being traded with someone from Lapland.
I am not a historian in the matter, so I don’t know how long travels take and how goods change hands. We could have a case similar to Mantle site, but how likely is that?
The problem with pet bred dogs is that I suspect very few people are actually breed dogs to be good pets. There is just more incentive to claim such but to really be chasing some other goal. Ribbons, colors that sell for more money, etc.
Well, long before the fancy was established, the toy spaniels, for example, were an established (unpedigreed) race, and had been bred for pet since the rise of the middle classes extended the market for little pet dogs beyond the ladies of the court. I suspect selection would have been quite harsh, and companion dog characteristics – loyalty, sweet nature, being very attentive to what humans do and want – would have been what was selected for, and these qualities have remained despite the efforts of the show people to breed for beauty, winning or whatever..
‘Good pet’ is extremely subjective. A person who love the people loving, obedience personality of a lab is not going to consider a very remote, independent Saluki or Afghan a good pet. I find them outstanding pets, but a dog that kept looking to me directions would drive me insane.
I just finished reading “SOS Dog” by Johan and Edith Galant – very good book and it discusses the history of the Samoyed as you have written. They also say that the name of the basenji stems from a pejorative term. In Swahili (the language of the Bantu people), shenzi/senji refers to uncultured people – aka hunter/gatherers like the Pygmies.
Fantastic book. I know many people don’t agree with the Gallants, based on personal convictions, but their view-points are still valid.
Here’s the thing its probably hard to breed for pets cause pets is so varied.
Take two people I’m working with atm. Both live in urban areas and have dogs as pets.
Person 1 walks the dog minimum of three hours off leash everyday. Has a strong interest in training so also trains the dog a lot. Dog goes to a variety of locations and mingles with huge numbers of other dogs.
Person 2 walks dog a maximum of 1 hour a day. Tends to go to the same place and until recently didn’t let dog off as couldn’t control it (can now) has minimal interest in training and basically just wants a dog that isn’t much effort.
So these 2 pet owners give the dogs different lifestyles and different levels of stimulation. A dog that suits person 1 maybe too much of a handful for person 2.
Re white animals. I know some sheepdog people say sheep don’t respect a white collie. Maybe an lgd that is white is better accepted by the sheep. Also might be a way of spooking predators (huge ”sheep that” attacks them).
Re Samoyed’s, I think all show dogs have come from land race stock and been made artificial for the show ring. That is showing for you. I like the original dogs but tbh I like dogs that are a bit different in looks (not extreme if anything I like dogs that look like they have just evolved that way) plus I like working type dogs.
I don’t have an issue with people having/breeding show dogs as long as the dogs welfare isn’t effected.
Adam
There have been breeds developed as attempts to breed the perfect pet dog. I’m thinking of the Eurasier. But like you say even in one breed, as people are different they are going to have different criteria on what the ideal pet dog is. My Tibetan Mastiff is my ideal dog, but I would NEVER recommend the breed to anybody. I’m the same with shar-pei as what’s ideal for me is not necessarily ideal for the people I bump into that think both my dogs are lovely to look at and know nothing else. Buying on looks rather than function is the single biggest cause of dogs ending up in rescue.
Well, while I have been out running my dogs through the fields and marshes of the Dead Creek Wildlife Management Area I see much has been going on here on this blog (not to mention Boston, unfortunately. My sympathies to those involved in that outrageous act).
In response to landauer and Adam, it’s true that not many people are breeding dogs solely to be pets. But that’s exactly what I do. I have no other goal than to produce sound, healthy, intelligent dogs that have no other purpose on earth than to be the companion of one or more people, and participate in their lives in a rewarding way. As Adam noted, not every “pet dog” fits everyone’s circumstances. The term “family pet” alone encompasses such a wide spectrum of needs no one breed (or crossbreed) could possibly hope to satisfy all who are looking for a dog that falls under that label. While I breed “pets”, I breed them for a specific type of person. My dogs work best when living with active people; especially people who hike in the mountains, cross-country ski, or just get out and participate in outdoor activities that a healthy dog can also participate in. I also like big dogs (and at times very small dogs doing a job; I love my little Patterdale), and believe a dog should have good legs under it, so that has influenced the type of dog I chose to breed. No selection by man can build an animal to the physical perfection nature has produced through evolution, so I try to breed my dogs as close to the wolf (skeletal) build as possible. And since my dogs are also expected to be able to tolerate extremes in temperature, I wanted a fuller, yet easily cleaned outer coat, with a good woolly undercoat. I personally like smaller ears on a dog, so that also went into my equation, and, second only to health and physical soundness, is trainability. So I decided to cross Irish wolfhound (legs, coat, small ears and size) with Alaskan malamute (winter hardy coat, but with legs appearing to get shorter and shorter in some examples of the breed, but a good, all-around athletic dog). This could have raised questions of trainability, but as fate sometimes has it, I bought Denali, my Alaskan malamute from Cascade Kennel lines as a pup, and discovered as she matured that, unlike most of her breed, she was as trainable as any good shepherd I’ve ever known. I then purchased Branigan, my male Irish wolfhound, and discovered he was also an incredibly intelligent animal. By crossing these two wonderful dogs I have produced some great dogs I call my ‘Alaskan wolfhounds’ (I had to call them something), but when anyone comes to look at my puppies I don’t try to convince them that I’m creating a new breed, and explain to them that they’re just a crossbreed; just a mutt, but a carefully thought out and planned mutt. I don’t expect my dogs to be the founding stock of any continuing breeding program; they’re a one or two generation cross (I have bred some ¾ Irish wolfhound, ¼ malamutes). And I’m not jumping on the “Designer Dog” band wagon either. Most of those dogs are bred simply because the combination of the two parent breeds names makes a cute new name such a Puggle or Cockapoo (or worse yet, Taco-wiener) to suck in potential buyers who are looking for “cuteness”, I am just crossbreeding two distinctly different breeds of dog in the hope that the genetic diversity will make a healthier and sounder dog, and the phenotypes of the two will blend as planned and produce a dog along the lines I am looking for. From the reports I get from people who have gotten pups from me, I have at least partially succeeded (the jury is still out on length of life).
True, my dogs are not for everyone; and though several people who own my dogs claim they are also great couch potatoes who are like a nanny with their kids, that is not the population I am breeding dogs for. But if you want a big, powerful dog that (will hopefully) live longer than the average Great Dane or pure Irish wolfhound, have little inbred health problems, and can be a great companion on your outdoor, back-country ventures, then I have the dog for you.
And one further thing: I am not situated in NYC or some other big city and producing dogs for city dwellers who walk their dogs twice a day. I’m up here in Vermont, and have no trouble finding homes for the (very) limited number of pups I produce amongst the many people who both love dogs, and enjoy the year around outdoor activities this state offers, and want their dogs to be an everyday, active part of their lives. Many of the cross-country skiers who own my dogs love the fact that at the end of a long, often grueling day on the trails, their dogs are right there beside them, ready to do another run if possible. These are the people I breed my dogs for.
I can’t correct all that is wrong in the “dog world”, but I can do a small part by creating a few dogs that were bred with no thought to show rings or ribbons as a goal.
Interesting, but I don’t know about that etymology. According to my dictionaries and my favorite Russian speaker (my Russian wife), the usual words for cannibal are ‘cannibal’ and ‘lyudoyed’ (‘people eater’). ‘Samoyed’ could indeed mean ‘self-eater’, but the etymmologies I’ve found suggest that’s questionable, and the word may well come from sami or a similar root (suomi?). The Nenets lived far away from most Russians, and it wouldn’t surprise me if Russians used a word for a more familiar group of far northern reindeer herders. Kind of the way many people use “Inuit” nowadays for all eskimos, without distinguishing between Yup’ik and Inuit.
Sorry, don’t mean to get too nerdy. It’s just that I’ve become an eager Russian student over the past few years, since I married and found that not understanding the language took all the joy out of eavesdropping.
There are a few pieces that suggest it, but it seems to me that it’s more of a colonizer’s pejorative.
Russia was not a country built upon love, peace, and understanding. For most of its history, it was the story of subjugation and deliberate incitement of racial and ethnic hatred to benefit the master class.
I don’t believe the term is used anymore. It’s definitely not used for the Nenets.
If you call people cannibals, it doesn’t matter whether they are or not.
People will believe it, and it’s one of the oldest pejoratives that colonizers have used to defame the colonized and justify their colonization.
This goes all the way back to Christopher Columbus claiming that Caribs were cannibals.
There are Sami in Russia. I don’t think anyone confuses them. They may speak a related language, but they are very different people.
Sami and Suomi are related words. Suomi refers to swamp dwelling people.
Oh, I agree — linguists can debate ‘uncertain’ etymologies all they want, but if the word is likely to be understood as an insult, I won’t use it. Unfortunately, the insulting meaning is not always obvious in a word borrowed from another language. Love, peace and understanding are somewhat scarce commodities everywhere, so insulting terms are not uncommon.
came across an interesting site on Samoyed history here: http://www.snowangelssamoyeds.com/The_Samoyed.html — I include it as it has a different interpretation of the name (“living off themselves” which the writer argues means “self sufficient”) and a photo of one of the Kilburn Scott dogs — which happens to be other than white (in the photo it looks black, but it could be a dark cream).
Given the migrations of various folk and that the Sami and Nenets are related, I’d consider that the dogs might be too. If one were trying to increase the genetic gene pool, the dogs of Finland and Sweden (of whatever color) might be a good choice.
As for the name, I think the intent was to call the dogs after the Sami people. A lot of names for groups of folk are not complimentary (apparently Mohawk” is a Narraganset name, meaning “flesh eaters.” ).
I don’t believe any linguists agree with that etymology.
[…] What is a samoyed? […]
A wonderful blog post, as usual. Yes, even primitive, healthy dog types can suffer from inbreeding depression if based on a tiny founding population. Again, this is why I have always had dogs of mixed lineage. The 5-month-old pup we have now is part “Samoyed,” part Alaskan husky, and part yellow Labrador retriever. With this mix, he should be able to avoid the genetic disorders found in inbred populations, such as landraces-turned-purebreeds here in the West.
I am 60. My parents liked Samoyeds so I grew up with them. As I became an adult, I decided that I preferred Samoyed mixes. I have had mixes with Yellow Lab, German Shepherds (white and mixed), and Golden Retriever. I was amazed to find how many ‘accidental’ crosses were available. I do not know what my present Sammy/mix is crossed with. He looks like a white Samoyed but has golden eyes, plus he weighs 75 lbs (a little unusual for purebreds). Also he does not dig holes, or bark at other animals, including dogs. He barks only at me when he fancies his dinner is late, or at his female companion when he wants to play. I have always had great luck with the mixed breeds and cannot imagine owning a “Purebred” again.
My sister got a Samoyed because she wanted a dog and her roommate fancied the idea…well during school my mom and I ended up taking care of him allot. He’s a little devil simply put….but I LOVE him! He has more energy than our mini-schnauzer and while that may seam like a bad mix he is super protective of her, and she’s actually been channeling his inner eye-stalk-chase-kill instincts and they have been working together on the numerous chipmunks that tease them! Initially when my sister got the dog my family was like “this dog is going to be allot of work” and yeah he has been! He sometimes has minor bowel issues and has to go out at 3AM but someone in my house is always awake. He tore up his crate, all the bedding and then ate my moms expensive coat jacket buttons, and I’ve stepped in his poop on the living room carpet more than once….but through training and familiarization he’s gotten better…definitely takes allot of patient and allot of blood, sweat, tears and quite frankly misery but he’s learned our more relaxed schedule and knows he’ll get his work outs in and of course snuggling at night. He (his name is Jax) is a great companion, very loyal and becoming a pretty good listener. Its always a blast to hook him to a harness and go rollerblading or even riding a scooter (Hint: Sled dog in him is very very strong!). Overall I love the little guy and even when he tears up half the house that sammie smile keeps him from getting in too much trouble!