EXCERPT
Chapter One
WHATEVER HAPPENED TO MODERATION?
I had invited Jim, who wanted to add Saint Bernards to his judging license, to come and watch the Saint judging with me, because the judge that day had considerable experience with the breed. It turned out to be the day of the fat dog, and the more pounds any particular dog was packing, the higher was his award. Finally, as the last of the winners waddled over to their place markers, Jim turned to me and asked if there were any Saint Bernard exhibitors who could tell the difference between conditioning a dog for the showring and getting him ready for butchering. “Sure there are!” I replied. “It’s just that everyone knows that this judge likes to see dogs with a lot of substance.” “Its too bad,” responded Jim laughingly, “that somebody doesn’t explain to these people the difference between substance and lard. You know, you Saint Bernard people seem to go in for a lot of exaggeration in your dogs.”
At first I was offended by Jim’s comments, but then I had to admit that his remarks hit pretty close to the mark. Jim’s words gave form to something that had been nagging at the back of my mind for a long time. I realized that the hallmark of the Saint Bernard fancy was that almost everyone had the one common goal of “too much.”
Not that everyone wants too much of the same feature. Each person seems to have his own pet. virtue that he wants to exaggerate. If you just think about it, you will realize that almost every one of the respected Saint Bernard people advocate taking some particular feature or virtue to excess. You would he hard pressed to find a fancier or judge who did not look for a dog that represented some quality carried to an extreme—be it. head type, substance (bone), angulation, size, or whatever.
Do we have a problem here? You bet we do! The ancient Greek philosophers made a wonderful case for the path to perfection—called “moderation in all things.” This ancient wisdom would have you appreciate the beauty of the “golden mean.” Those who have the interest of Saint Bernards at heart need to understand and accept this bit of wisdom. We need to decry the siren call of “too much of a good thing” or at the end of this road lie only bad things for the breed. Let me share some of the reasons I feel this way.
Consider someone, either a breeder or judge, who claims to like a dog with “a lot of bone.” This individual is trying to establish that the larger the diameter of the dog’s legs, the more correct he considers that dog to be. The extreme of this characteristic, of course, is a dog with legs like those of an elephant.
What is so great about fat legs? Do thick legs enable a dog to function better? The answer, of course, is a resounding “No!” In fact, it should he obvious that extremely fat legs are an encumbrance. The argument has been presented that the words of the Standard calling for legs to be powerful dictate this obsession for fat legs. But that is fallacious, because the tissue that creates these gigantic legs is not muscle tissue. Fat legs are not as strong as more normal legs that are simply well muscled. You will never see elephant legs on any dog athletic enough to perform the breed’s historical calling. Well, then, are fat legs prettier to look at? Obviously some people think so! However, in my definition, pretty legs should he trim, firm, well shaped, and well proportioned.
Any feature taken to an extreme does not contribute to function; in fact, it tends to have only a negative value in this regard. And while beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder, it takes a strange kind of person to think that an exaggeration is beautiful. True beauty must lie closer to what is normal for the function for which the breed was originated. The historical function of the Saint Bernard was that of a mountain rescue dog. So let’s discuss the famous historical functions of the breed and some of the characteristics of the dogs that were valued by the early breeders.
While there is some confusion between the facts and fables concerning the original purposes of the hospice dogs, there cannot he much argument about the aspect of the breed that has attracted the majority of fanciers. There can be little doubt that the dogs were first brought to the hospice to act as guard dogs, except. that any large dog would have been satisfactory for that job. If being a guard dog was the major rise of those animals, there never would have been a Saint Bernard breed as such. It is the glamour and the glory of rescuing people that has made our breed endure, and it is the ability to perform that function that must be preserved.
I can relate a number of stories that demonstrate that our dogs still retain the instinct to help victims in snowy conditions. One case in particular happened during a Snow Trial of the Saint Bernard Club of Puget Sound. After the trial, a few of us were walking with our dogs away from the main ski area to watch some people sledding. While we stood there at the top of the hill watching, a young lady endeavored to go down a very steep slope, and she crashed and screamed in pain—she had broken her leg. Even though on lead, three of the dogs broke away and ran down that steep slope to her side. The victim saw them coming and cried out to keep them away, because they would jostle her broken leg. The dogs paid no attention to the commands to come back. Two of the dogs lay down gently, one on each side of the victim, and the third dog stood there barking up the hill at all of the people watching. Some of us went for help, and the rest tried to get the dogs to return, but they wouldn’t leave or quit barking until the ski patrol arrived to take the victim to the ambulance. A spectator who was watching asked why the dogs behaved so strangely. The answer was, “They’re just doing what they were bred to do—they think that that is their job!”
On another occasion, I wanted to see my dogs reaction to my being covered with snow. I found an overhanging snowbank and pulled it down so that I was covered with a foot or two of snow. To my surprise, two dogs had me uncovered almost before the snow had stopped falling. Over the years, I have heard numerous other Saint Bernard owners relate similar stories about their dogs. The reaction is always the same—utter amazement that these dogs still have the instinct and will to do their historic tasks.
We don’t know how the dogs came by these abilities and instincts, and we can only speculate about how they were discovered and exploited when the breed began.
I would imagine that the monks first started taking the dogs with them on their sweeps through the pass to look for lost or fallen travelers as some sort of combination guard and companion. We do know that the early monks soon came to value the dogs for their uncanny ability to sense an impending avalanche—a talent that was much needed and often used. This skill, while sufficient by itself to earn them their keep, was enhanced by the dogs’ ability to find people buried under the snow, by their capacity to thrive in the mountainous, snow-covered environment, and by their eagerness to perform the tasks taught to them by those early hospice monks.
It eventually became the practice of the monks to send the dogs out without accompaniment in packs of two or three to make the searches for lost or fallen travelers so that the dogs could lead them back to the hospice if they could travel. If the traveler was down and not able to he aroused, one of the dogs would go back for the monks while the rest tried to arouse the downed traveler by licking and nudging his body Failing to arouse the victim the dogs would lie beside him to help keep him warm By the way, only males were used for this work because the work was thought to he too arduous for the bitches.
Contemplate the temperament demanded of these dogs. First, they needed to tend to business; rather than indulge in squabbles, and they needed to seek out people and try to befriend these strangers. They had to be friendly, gregarious, and people-oriented or they could never perform the jobs that they were asked to accomplish.
Also note that the demand for great size was nonexistent, because the dogs were never asked to perform as draft animals or to physically move the bodies that they found in the snow. They needed the stamina to endure a hard life, but they were not asked to perform feats of strength. Now ask your self what these functions have to do with the traits sought after by the majority of judges and breeders The ability to sense impending avalanches, the keen nose for finding the people buried under the snowdrifts, and the eagerness to serve as mountain rescue dogs are not traits that are desired by most breeders, and, obviously, no judge can look for them in the showring.
Some lip service is given to seeking the physical attributes that would enhance a dog’s ability to serve and function in an alpine environment, however. I happen to live relatively close to an area similar to the hospice setting and I have taken a lot of Saint Bernards to the mountains for a romp in the snow. Let me relate a few observations concerning deep snow, high altitude, and very cold weather as they affect Saint Bernards.
The first time we took our dogs to spend a winter day in the mountains, I was shocked to find that the body type I thought to be the most desirable was absolutely unsuitable for this environment, A wide chest is no asset when plowing through a snowdrift. Short legs, no matter how well angulated, are a disaster in the snow. A too-long back is a hindrance to the rearing/leaping mode that is necessary for successfully traversing deep snow. An exception to this, of course, is the very small and light-boned dog that stays on top of the snow crust. However, once a small dog breaks through the surface crust, he cannot keep up with a large dog. The most surprising discovery was that the very largest males seemed to tire the most quickly from the continual leaping and sinking back into the snow.
To my amazement, the big-chested, heavy-boned, massive dogs that win a lot in the showring were good for only a very short distance in the deep snow. Actually, the body style and proportions of the leaner and racier dogs seem to function best here. Of course, strength, desire, and conditioning play a big part in how any dog handles deep snow and steep terrain—even more than do aspects of the dog’s conformation, Nevertheless, the dog’s anatomy and some of the ways in which the dog is mechanically assembled can represent a terrible handicap in deep snow and steep terrain.
If you envision this traveling through the snow as an athletic endeavor, you soon come to appreciate the body that is best suited for the performance. Strength is required, but the less mass the dog has to lift over the snow with each leap, the better, Size is important, but too small seems to he as bad as too big—the middle ground is best. Proportions are a factor, because short legs are a big handicap, as is being too long or weak in the back. Both the overangulated and the underangulated dogs tire too quickly. It seems that a moderate dog—that is, one of medium, height and medium girth and width, with moderate angulation—is really the one best suited for deep snow in an alpine environment.
Let me note a few additional observations that I made while watching our dogs play in the snow. Feet that are not tight soon pack with snow or ice. The longer and finer the hair, the sooner the dog is back in the car. Ears with very thin leather decrease the dog’s willingness to stay out in the cold for long periods of time. Small Saint Bernards dig deeper and faster than big ones (I haven’t been able to figure out why, or if it is significant). It takes a real nut to take ten Saint Bernards up to the mountains for a romp in the snow, but it is a fine learning experience.
In my opinion, what is fashionable today tends to be a rather cloddish animal that greatly lacks the attributes sought after by the originators of the breed. I feel that the Saint Bernard should he built more toward a picture of strength and grace than a creature of unwieldy mass and useless bulk.
I find it terribly sad that in today’s scenario, technology has removed the Saint Bernard breed from the field of avalanche rescue. When the breed originated, the dogs needed to have a certain amount of mass to keep from freezing, to be of a reasonable size to get up and over very rough terrain, and to be big enough to warm up a downed traveler, Being big was an asset! Today, the dogs have to travel to the scene of the avalanche in a helicopter while sitting on the handlers lap. Great size is now a negative feature, amid being the size of a Saint Bernard is prohibitive. The only reason to have a dog at the scene of an avalanche or at any other disaster is for the dog’s nose and his intelligence, which can come in a lap-sized package. The long and the short of the situation is that the dogs no longer get themselves to the scene, and once they get there, they only have to locate the victim. Even though the Saint Bernard retains the ability and instincts for the job, the great size of our beloved dogs has put them out of work,
This brings us to the question, “So what?” Since no one employs Saint Bernards to rescue avalanche victims or to dig out snow-covered foot travelers anymore, why not let fashion and fad dictate what is desirable in our breed? The answers are not obvious, but they are real. It is important to really understand and accept them,
One problem is that no single breeder can keep up with all of the changes that occur when a philosophy of letting fads dictate correct type is adopted. This year the rage will be some sort of monstrous size. Next year it will he some specific kind of marking that is required to be a winner. The following year will see everybody looking for extreme rear angulation. We end up with a contemporary breed type that is changed for reasons of silly fashion, but less able to perform his original tasks. Over time, the breed changes until it is hardly recognizable by the earlier breeders.
Another problem is that you cannot expect any sort of consistency in the performance of the judges if the breeders are forever changing the dogs. Many judges use the original function of a breed as a guiding principle to lead them to the breed’s proper type. If the function is abandoned, so is all hope of correct type being rewarded in the majority of showrings.
Perhaps the most insidious of the problems is the loss of a certain style or sense of elegance that happens when some feature is exaggerated. We all know outstanding successful show dogs that estabablished great winning records by virtue of the fact that they had one particular feature that was noticeable to the point of exaggeration. Indeed, some actually were promoted by advertising, drawing our attention to the very fact that the subject dog had the most wonderful something or another, be it head, bone, angulation, or whatever. While the dog may, in fact have been a good specimen of the breed, the overaccentuated focal point may have, if we looked at him objectively, thrown him out of balance.
So where does this leave us? If we can agree that we have a problem and that there are certain consequences for ignoring it, then we are left with a need for some course of action. We need a plan, and I would like to suggest one. Each person involved with the breed must make a personal decision as to whether or not the breed is headed in the right direction. If you can accept the concept of the Saint Bernard’s original function as being a rescue dog in the hazardous alpine environment, and if you believe that our dogs ought to he able to perform that function, then you cannot like what is fashionable today in the showring. Perhaps it is time for you to make a really concerted effort to seek a little moderation in your breeding, judging, or whatever it is that you do for the breed.
Please remember that the art of appreciating excellence in dogs is knowing how much is enough, and that too much is as bad as too little. One of the most difficult challenges that faces our fancy is the appreciation of the optimum—the beauty of moderation.
