My mother-in-law breeds border terriers. Or more specifically, her dog Julie has given birth to three litters, the results of which have been sorted into the categories “show dogs” and “pets” depending on the puppies’ demonstration of certain breed characteristics. The art of showing dogs is partly about handling and personality, and partly about whether a dog possesses the right bite, head shape, proportions, gait, coloration, etc. It can feel a biiiiit eugenicist, and a bit like adherence to some kind of strict artistic standard. A conductor can interpret a Beethoven symphony however they like, but not really however they like—the score is the score, and there’s only so far someone can deviate from it before a given performance stops being that symphony. Similarly, there’s a particular narrative of what a border terrier is, and what it must be like, that makes it an acceptable, understandable, legible border terrier and not some mere random dog.
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