Our four-legged friends have been stealing the spotlight for thousands of years. From the second-century BC Cave Canem mosaic found at Pompeii, to Boo the pomeranian pup with nearly 17 million Facebook followers, history is littered with tales of dogs having their day.
Cave paintings from 12,000BC show humans alongside domesticated dogs – think of it as the Neolithic version of Dogs of Instagram. And although ancient Egyptians were known for having a serious cat thing, records show that one pharaoh’s hunting dog, Abuwtiyuw, received a grand state burial involving fine linens and incense. But that’s nothing compared with the pampered pooches of historic Chinese emperors; they were said to have had human wet nurses and their own servants.
According to legend, a dog called Saurr even sat (and rolled over, presumably) as the king of Trondheim, Norway, in the 11th century. He wore gold collars, was carried by courtiers and “ruled” the land for three years until his assassination by wolves. Elsewhere in Europe, dogs didn’t really hit the big time until the 13th to 15th centuries, when pet-keeping was popular among the aristocracy and senior clergy. Noble ladies doted on lap dogs, while the lords preferred animals they deemed useful, such as hunting hounds. Think of Portrait of a Noblewoman, painted by Lavinia Fontana in around 1580, which depicts a young Bolognese noblewoman dripping with jewels, accessorised with a tiny pup, or the disappointed-looking pack of hunting dogs that steal the show in Pieter Bruegel the Elder’s Hunters in the Snow (1565).
Beyond the Renaissance and into the 18th century, dogs were taking centre stage in portraits (Hogarth’s pug being a prime example) and, by the Victorian times, miniature breeds had become the ultimate status symbol. But the affection went beyond fashion, cementing the concept of man’s best friend – case in point Greyfriars Bobby, the Skye terrier who spent 14 years guarding the grave of his late owner in 19th-century Edinburgh. Indeed, the Victorian obsession with all things puppy-powered extended to Queen Victoria herself, who entered six pomeranians into the first Crufts dog show in 1891 and was firmly in the dogs-over-humans camp – she once said: “If it were not for the honest faces of dogs, we should forget the very existence of sincerity.”
Of course, royal dogs have a history all of their own worth barking about. King Charles II had a couple of the spaniels that took his name (it would be rude not to) and insisted they be allowed in the Houses of Parliament. King Edward VII had a beloved wire fox terrier named Caesar of Notts who visitors found to be highly-strung and referred to as “stinky”. King George VI is responsible for introducing corgis to the royal family, a fondness which continues with Queen Elizabeth’s three pups – who have their own stockings at Christmas. Meanwhile, Kate and William are bringing up the next generation of royal hound – a black cocker spaniel called Lupo (or HRH Lupo to us).
Military history as far back as Roman times has been peppered with stories of brave pooches becoming a soldier’s best friend. Honourable mentions go to Moustache, a black poodle who cornered an Austrian spy in 1805’s Battle of Austerlitz, and Sgt Stubby, a stray boston terrier who snuck his way on to the French battlefields in the first world war and went on to use his nose to save his American regiment from surprise mustard gas attacks and become the most decorated dog in history.
Off the battlefield, we’ve long relied on dogs to lend a helping paw, from Barry the barrel-wearing St Bernard, who racked up more than 40 Swiss mountain rescues over his 12 years of service in the 1800s, to Trakr, a German shepherd detection dog who found the last survivor of the World Trade Center attack. Most recently, a labrador called Frida made global headlines for saving more than 52 lives following the earthquakes in Mexico.
Of course, some dogs are born great, but others have greatness thrust upon them by their celebrity owners. Who could forget Tinkerbell Hilton, Paris’s teacup chihuahua who had her own puppy palace? Or Mariah Carey’s jack russell, the imaginatively-named Jack, who had jacuzzi baths with her? Then there’s German shepherd Gunther IV who has amassed a wealth of $400m (£280m), inherited from his father’s owner – the German countess and multi-millionaire Karlotta Liebenstein. That’s a lot of chew toys.
When it comes to a life of puppy privilege, the White House kennels have also had some memorable incumbents. Notable presidential pets include Fala, Roosevelt’s black Scottie who accompanied him everywhere, Checkers, Nixon’s cocker spaniel, namechecked in his famous speech, and Bo, Obama’s Portuguese water dog, star of his own children’s book. Breaking with tradition, Trump will not be adding a four-legged member to the first family. He lived with a poodle, Chappy, with his first wife, Ivana, who wrote that: “Donald was not a dog fan.”
Of course, the internet age has given birth to a whole new breed of pup-stars. One of the first tail-waggers to go viral was the smartly turned out pomeranian Mr Winkle, who arguably outshone Sarah Jessica Parker in Sex and the City. No doubt Boo – the ball of fluff with millions of social media followers dubbed “the most famous dog alive today” – owes a lot to Mr Winkle’s pioneering work. And proving that the “talking dog” trick never gets old, Mishka the Siberian husky racked up more than 104m YouTube views for barking “I love you”. Finally, there’s
@dogsofinstagram: almost 6,000 pup pics (plus a book deal and daily doggy calendar) and more than 4.1 million devoted followers – true testament to the power of puppy on every platform, in every era.
Alongside the evolution of star pups, what we feed our dogs has changed and improved over time: from unhealthy human fare and leftovers to dog-appropriate food, on to feeding tailored to a dog’s specific needs. Founded in 1968, Royal Canin was the first pet food manufacturer to produce age-, breed- and size-specific food for dog development and nutrition
