Atlanta tri-weekly journal. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1920-19??, 1921-03-08
Fashions In Dogs
r. ASHIONS in dogs, like fashions in
clothes and hobbies, in sports and art

clothes and hobbies, in sports and art
and society, vary with the years.
They change not so frequently, perhaps, as
The length of skirts and the style in sleeves
but change they do surely as human
tastes and whims.
Where are the pug dogs of yesterday, the
screw-tailed, black-faced pugs who shared with
the black-and-tans the place of honor on the
family hearth rug in the days of CRATES and
log fires, and the place in the arms Of the
lady with the bone bodice and the pronounced
hips in the tintype portrait with the man
who affected a piratical mustache and side
burns?
They vanished, all of them, when the New
foundland and The st. Bernard entered the
scene along with gas heaters and directoire
gowns and barber poles. And, in turn. the
st. Demands, after an era in which they were
constantly rescuing people from drowning
and runaway horses and perishing in the
snow, retired in dignified silence in the face
Of the sharp barks and cunning tricks of the
fox terrier. The fox terrier and the balloon
sleeve held their own bravely for at least
decade. And then people began to buy
burnt-wood boxes and bulldogs. The burnt
tables and the bulldogs were all the
burnt-wood boxes and all the magazine COW
ers-large, ferocious bulldogs, the uglier the
better, generally portrayed with Fisher and
Christy girls, who had pushed the Gibson girl
out of the way with her fox terrier. But
hardly had they vanquished the last of the
fox terriers before they, in turn, were showed
into the discard. The curtain rose on the
poodle, the Pomeranian and the Pekinese.
And now another type of dog is having
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dogs and Airdale and the Aberdeens, smack
ng of country clubs and sweaters and
wooden stockings-is the dog of the hour.
If it cannot be said that no home is COM
olete without one, at least it is true that no
advertisement of automobiles or young mems
suits lack an Airdale or police dog.
Apparently, the style cycle in dogs moves
in sizes, from small to large from large to
small and back again. The pug and the black
and tan resigned the lmelight to the st. Ber-
nard, the Newfoundland and the Great Dane.
The fox terrier routed these giants without
nalf trying. The bulldog growled once and
the fox terrier fled. But the bull, despite
its ferocity, was defeated by the wet snout
Of lap dog. What will follow the police
dog? midget of some sort, by all the
precedents of dogdom.
With all the fads and fickleness in the
upper strata of canine aristocracy, there is
one kind of dog that neither time nor style
IAN alter when it comes to the affections of
mankind. That is the breed of whom the
poet sang
He was sitting on a doorstep as I went
strolling by;
lonely little beggar with wistful, home
sick eye
And he wasn't what you'd borrow and he
wasn't what you'd steal
But I guessed his heart was breaking, so
whistled him to heel,
Yellow dog he was; but bless you-he was
just the chap for me!
For I'd rather have an inch of dog than
miles of pedigree!"
The yellow cur!-you can see him sitting
here on the doorstep with his 'wistful, home
sick eye," watching the parade of the pugs
and the st. Demands and the bulldogs and
the Pekingese, cooking one ear a bit because
nobody wants him, smiling satirically as one
breed succeeds another, wagging his tail
through 1t all, until somebody comes along
who would rather have an inch Of dog than
mile of pedigree, and then sticking to that
master until death does them part.