Bloodlines

Sally Brand. The dogs’ black noses were wet, their muzzles white and dry, their expressions happy and innocent. When the sugar bowl is licked clean, the culprit is apt to be Rowdy. The shredded remains of a grease-soaked pizza carton mean that Kimi’s raided the trash. She’s usually the one who removes the ripening bananas and tomatoes from the kitchen windowsills, but Rowdy shares her spoils. I can even identify who’s eaten what where: Kimi swallows the tomatoes whole, but Rowdy leaves a puddle of juice and seeds. Rowdy is fantastically adept at peeling bananas; a slimy brown and yellow mess bearing visible tooth marks means Kimi. An empty teacup, though, can be either one. When I warn prospective adopters that Alaskan malamutes are big, strong dogs that shed, I should probably add that they’re opportunistic predators as well. On the other hand, they are highly intelligent listeners.
    “So,” I went on, “all I do is go take a look, and then I call Siberian Husky Rescue and break the news, and then, too bad, but it’s their problem, not mine.”
    Have I lost you? Most pet shop dogs get flown in from the Midwest. The puppies are in crates, the papers aren’t, and whoever picks up the pups at the airport matches up the puppies and papers. Got a fifty-five-pound pet shop “malamute” with pretty blue eyes? Well, now you know why. Don’t let it worry you, though. Siberians are great dogs, too. Oh, but you wanted a malamute ? What can I say? The obvious, I guess: You should have gone to a breeder.
    The dogs gazed soulfully at me. Objectively speaking, they really are beautiful. If you’re not used to our New England malamutes—Kotzebues—they’d look small to you, I guess, even though they’re considered big around here. Rowdy’s permanent diet usually keeps him reduced to eighty-five or ninety pounds, and Kimi weighs seventy-five, which happens to be ideal for a bitch. They’re both dark wolf gray with white undercoats and white trim—white feet, legs, underbellies, and the undersides of their tails—but Kimi has some pale beige-tan, too. Their faces, though, are distinct: Rowdy has what’s called an “open face.” Yes, I know. It sounds like a Danish topless sandwich, but it means all white, in contrast to black facial markings like Kimi’s. She has the works, a full mask: black cap, black bar down her nose, and black eye goggles. Her eyes are deep brown but slightly lighter than Rowdy’s. His are so dark that you have to look closely in good light to see the line between the pupil and the iris. I might also mention in Passing that Rowdy happens to have the ideal malamute
    head, rounded over the skull, with standard-epitomizing wedge-shaped ears set on the sides of his head precisely where they belong. Oh, and a nice blocky muzzle, too.; Thick bones. Great front. And rear. And you really ' should see him move. Very typey dog. Breed champion, finished easily. Have I digressed?
    Oh, yes. Puppy Luv. I’d never entered the place be- I fore. Ever since I’d started writing my monthly column for Dog’s Life, I’d been warning my readers that pet shops that sell dogs support the puppy mill industry, and I’d urged my readers and everyone else not to buy so much as a single toy-size dog biscuit at a place like Puppy Luv. Obviously, then, I wouldn’t have gone there to replenish my supply of food, collars, leads, Vari-Kennels, Redi-Liver, Souper-size Nylabones, Gumabone Plaque Attackers, Boodabones, Nylaflosses, chew-resistant Frisbees, undercoat rakes, wire slicker brushes, shampoos, coat conditioners, flea-control products, or any of the other bare necessities of life. In truth? I’d never entered the place because I’d been afraid to see a malamute puppy for sale there. Yes, I know. I should have been upset at the prospect of seeing any puppy of any breed sold to any dog-ignorant, dog-negligent, and maybe even dog-abusive credit card carrier who’d plunk down a Visa Gold. And I was distressed, too. But I cared more about my own breed than I did about the others. Not every human being values a great listener. Some people don’t want a fascinating companion who takes an active, intelligent interest in the world. Many people don’t enjoy a dog who’s a mental and emotional equal. The average person does not actually relish being dragged along the street like a sledge on the permafrost.
    In brief, the Alaskan malamute is the wrong breed for most people, and one of the worst breeds for