Trust me, ‘pup politics’ isn’t just for Number 10
As the two Downing Street pooches meet, Helen Kirwan-taylor says that we’re no longer top dog in our own homes
If you want to stoke political fire, talk about dogs. It’s very telling that Rishi Sunak’s answer to the PM’S leg-humping, scrappy, rescue dog Dilyn is the sleek labrador puppy Nova, purchased so thoughtfully for the “children” (as in, nuclear family). The canine neighbours met for the first time last week in the Downing Street garden and “got on famously”, apparently, but dogs always afford a wonderful opportunity to compete. Sunak’s choice of a lab (dependable, untrendy, family spirited, can also go on shoots) suggests middle-of-the road conservatism. Johnson’s Jack Russell-cross rescue screams urban elite (Londoners can’t be bothered to deal with puppies and also want to feel “virtuous”).
Pooch politics is not limited to Downing Street. We can’t fight over Brexit anymore (if we want to stay friends) so we do it over dogs – their breed, behaviour, kit. My Instagram feed used to feature pictures of puppies looking for new owners; now it’s the other way around. We are thinking of getting another puppy, in addition to Wilson, our Cairn terrier: get in line, I am told.
The combination of lockdown and social media has cemented a growing suspicion that things have got completely out of hand. According to the ONS, roughly 3.2 million households acquired a pet since the start of the pandemic and in 2020, we spent £7.9 million on dog products, an increase of 170 per cent since 2005. I don’t know if you’ve been to Daylesford or Mungo and Maud recently but let’s just say buying a matching leather collar and lead (hand-beaded by third generation craftsmen on a mountain top in Kenya), will set you back £200.
Don’t even get me started on dog beds or “thrones” as they are now called. I’ve seen entire closets dedicated to dog clothes; even a dog wet room with built-in hairdryers and towelled beds for relaxation. People used to ask if they could bring their dogs to lunch: now they just arrive with their two huskapoos and a car full of kit. Several of my friends’ dogs sit at the table. I’m not kidding. They perch upright on chairs, their owners absentmindedly feeding them from your plate.
Plummeting human birth rates in the West mean dogs really are the new children – “fur babies” referred to by their prefix (eg. Mr Pips or Ms Blonde) – and anyone hoping for a break from the relentless rat race that is parenting in today’s competitive world needs to think again. We may tutor and torture our children for a while but then they’re off (if we’re lucky). With dogs, the helicopter never lands. Thanks to a diet of raw filet mignon and organic vegetables, many are now living well into their twenties. Wilson gets cards from his dentist at Christmas and is ‘‘hand stripped’’ at the groomers, making my highlights cheap as chips by comparison.
We once had a visitor whose dog is named after a Hollywood star. She discussed the pooch’s schooling, summer camps, wardrobe, diet, open-hearted personality, adorable smile. It was only halfway through lunch that our horrified (dogless) neighbour clocked she wasn’t talking about a child. I’m used to it. When people talk about boarding school now, I assume it’s the four-legged kind.
We sent Wilson to Eton, aka the Dog House in Wales, 11 years ago. Its three-week puppy course which “sets you up for success” (and set you back £1,600 even then) now has such a long waiting list that people put their dogs down before they have been conceived. Wilson took chicken socialisation classes (so he can be trusted in the countryside) and, according to his 12-page report, “was extremely motivated by play and not too enthusiastic about squirrels”.
‘‘Dannies’’ (dog nannies) walk the length of my west London street every morning. I recently met an architect who now looks after one dog full-time. Perks of the job include flying his charge to meet his owner on the family PJ (which have gone up in popularity because no one in their right mind puts their dogs in crates in the hold).
When dogs were dogs, certain behaviours were excused. Not anymore. When Wilson takes another dog’s ball, he is now expected to apologise. I have been lectured several times on “consideration” in Holland Park. In the course of an average morning, I hear owners telling their dogs to “play nicely” and “remember what Mummy taught you”. They expect the German Shepherd to “be gentle” with the Chihuahua dressed in a pink tutu and when he isn’t, they call the park police. So much as a bark is now considered
Asbo behaviour. I was once told that Wilson should be banned because he had the audacity to chase a child’s football (in the dog bit of the park). The owner expected me to persuade Wilson to “give it back”. I handed him the lead and said “good luck” and walked off. His face...
We presume to understand dogs’ feelings and they, ours. When they confuse us by exhibiting animal behaviour, we send them to a shrink. “I think it’s a real indication of society, this humanisation of pets,” says Gillian Quek, co-owner of the Dog House. “It’s appalling how big names across social media platforms (for example, Pooch of NYC – an Instagram account sharing the antics of a maltipoo ‘petfluencer’ called Agador) are dressing their dogs in ridiculous outfits. You can’t treat your dog as a human. I keep hearing how many of the pandemic dogs have been sent to rescue centres. Dogs will not fill vacuums in people’s lives or fix mental issues. Dogs should fit in with your life, not the other way around.” (Certainly they should not be used for political point scoring.)
Sadly, dog-centred parenting is the current behavioural model. I recently went to lunch with a friend whose puppy was being raised without “nos” (only good behaviour was acknowledged). When he jumped up on every child, she giggled. A swell of irritation came over me; just as it used to when friends brought exhausted toddlers to dinner parties because they didn’t “do” bed time. One friend expects her puppy to “communicate” verbally whenever she wants to go potty, which is generally on their expensive oriental carpet.
When a friend’s dog behaves badly you don’t say a word. I once lost a Prada handbag to a teething puppy. My husband had his favourite Anderson & Sheppard jacket chewed to a pulp (the owner’s response was “sorry”). If one’s own dog behaves badly, for example, poos in someone’s dining room as Wilson once did, you must offer to replace the rug immediately. I was so ashamed I called the great vet himself, Bruce Fogle, who explained that Wilson was simply marking his territory in the most flattering of forms and for God’s sake, get over yourself. But dogs now do yoga (doga) and dance on two legs on social media, which makes people very disappointed when theirs won’t. When the dog in question turns around and bites their owner because they’ve had enough, they’re put down.
Country folks used to roll their eyes at all this but dogs fill as many conversations here in Gloucestershire, too. Many have multiple breeds, all with exotic names which you’re supposed to remember when addressing Christmas cards. They also expect their dogs, whatever absurd new fusion breed they happen to be, to double as “hunting” dogs even though they’re “vegan”. We’ve been on shoots where the day was spent retrieving the dogs rather than the dogs retrieving the birds. Villagers gossip about dogs behind their back – if one dog so much as growls at another, a local Whatsapp group is immediately set up to discuss.
Betcha in six months’ time, however, Nova will walk the corridors of 10 Downing Street without so much as a collar. If your dog can be trusted off lead it means she’s 100 per cent reliable, consistent – and clearly destined for the top job.