As a child I remember sitting cross-legged in the assembly hall – having recently learned about dogs' good hearing – whispering my chihuahua’s name and hoping she’d come running down the street to me like an animal extra in 101 Dalmatians. In actuality this wasn’t so farfetched (minus the Disney part), if I had yelled out the window she probably would have heard, Canberra is pretty small.
But I admire my (now long gone) childlike optimism, and if Pixi had heard me I’m sure she would have come through. In fact, lap dogs have been a source of comfort for people for centuries. Bred to be our confidants, lap dogs are rewarded by us in return. But despite their positive qualities, there are a lot of negative stereotypes surrounding both them and the people – especially women – that care for them.
When Paris Hilton’s sextape was leaked in 2003 I was 12 and my dog was 6. Suddenly popular culture was saturated with parodies and ‘heiress’ stereotypes: Blonde, air-headed women, teetering around with effete dogs in designer purses. Suddenly small dogs, already relegated by society to women, became objects of ridicule. The handbag dog became a punchline in tabloid magazines, Far Side comics, South Park and reality tv.
By the release of Sofia Coppola’s The Bling Ring in 2013, this joke had nearly come full circle and was thrown back at us, slightly more tongue-in-cheek. But these jokes still came at the expense of the ‘wrong kind’ of women; their clothes were not conservative enough, their pursuits too unacademic, their dogs too miniature. But despite negative views of these dogs as status symbols and punchlines, they also have a rich history of companionship and protection.
In 1957 Jerry Dantzig photographed Billie Holiday with her chihuahuas, lovingly holding them, feeding them, taking care of them. An outcast of society, abused, criticised, drug-dependent and subjected to racist and exclusionary behaviour, Billie’s life was not a simple one. But the joy portrayed in these photographs is undeniable. This unconditional affection is evident time and time again. When I started high school truly my only friend was my dog. When I was struck with anxiety and insomnia the only one to stay up with me was her. Dogs regularly are our lifelines when no humans are listening.
In Ancient China pekingese were a popular breed among royalty. They were especially popular with women and were often hidden in their owners' sleeves – sometimes after being colour coordinated to their outfits – where in the case of danger they could be released to ward off attackers. Still notoriously protective, these dogs are now known as ‘sleeve pekingese’ and I imagine, with the right tailoring, they could serve the same purpose. In fact, many small dogs would do the same for their owners.
We got Pixi in 1997, she lived to be 18 years old. We were both capricorns and I loved her. As a young queer kid, scared and isolated, she helped me feel a little less alone. Too often people pick on the small and the vulnerable. But the mutual respect that we learn from owning a dog nurtures us and them alike, getting us through the times when we are at our lowest. Dogs are a part of our chosen family, and the smallest of them can become our greatest allies.
Comments