We associate the word ‘purebred’ with foreign breeds—while the term ‘Indian’ dog is a synonym for streeties. But India has a long and proud tradition of native breeds. In part one, we offer a historical guide to dogs in Indian culture—and why they fell from favour. In part two, we introduce you to these native breeds and the attempts to save them from extinction. Many are staging a serious comeback—and help has come from the most unexpected quarters.
First, a historical guide to dogs in India
The ancient Indian dog: The earliest depictions of dogs in Indian art are 9000 years old—found on the walls of the Bhimbetka Rock Shelters near Bhopal. A detailed study of the prehistoric art identified 41 drawings—classified as Sight Hounds, Scent-Hunters, Shepherd Dogs and Giant Dogs.
Excavations reveal the close relationship between humans and dogs during the Indus Valley Civilisation:
From the period of the Indus Valley Civilisation, some representations of dogs have survived that indicate their high level of domestication: they wear collars and are sometimes depicted in poses that may indicate that they were very close to people (e.g. retrieving, sitting on 2 hind legs)... At the archaeological site in Ropar, the remains of a dog were discovered buried alongside a person, which undoubtedly indicates its great importance in the life of the owner.
A global sensation: Indian dogs were in great demand in places as distant as Greece. Pliny the Elder (23-79 CE) is supposed to have said: “Animals grow biggest in India. From India comes the dog that is larger than all others.” When Alexander the Great invaded us, King Sopeithes of Gandhara gifted him 150 hunting dogs. Most astonishingly:
Researchers like Alan Cooper, director of this centre, say that the dingoes, which most closely resemble the Indian dog, probably arrived with some people from the Indian subcontinent around 4,300 years ago. He says that there is evidence of migration from mainland India to Australia at this time although the numbers may have been small.
But, but, but: Dogs do not have a hallowed place in Vedic texts—unlike the elephant and the cow. They are described as close companions in the Rig Veda—including Sarama who was the “loyal assistant” of Indra. But dogs fell out of favour by the time of the Upanishads—which declares, “those who have been of bad conduct here attain evil birth, the birth of a dog, the birth of a hog, or the birth of Chandala.”
Just a “dirty dog”: Brahmanical tradition viewed dogs as impure—associated with “unclean” lower castes:
A drastic change in the approach to dogs is evident in the brahminical tradition, especially in the texts on dharma. There, these animals are given the lowest possible status. As Wendy Doniger remarks “to the Indian, the dog is the most unclean of all animals, a polluted scavenger, the very image of evil”). Dogs appear in a number of contexts that indicate their contaminating nature. Although dogs kept for sport and entertainment were mentioned in the Manusmriti, their guardians were called Chandals, or non-caste, i.e. Unclean.
FYI: The gaze of a dog could make food unfit for consumption. But they were oddly used in astrology—where all sorts of omens were ascribed to where a dog urinated. That said, to this day, dogs are associated with Bhairava—a manifestation of Siva.
Return to royal favour: The dogs first rehabilitated themselves in the medieval era—and shed their ‘unclean’ status. Chola temples in south India feature dog paintings. There are ancient temples dedicated to canines—like the Kukkura Math temple in Dindori, Madhya Pradesh (9th-10th century). In later centuries, they found favour as hunting animals—both with Hindu and Mughal kings. Akbar is said to have a favourite companion pooch named Mahuwa.
Mughal miniatures feature dogs in the company of high-ranking courtiers—like this one:
Or this 1735 Pahari painting of Raja Medini Pal:
But, but, but: Not all these dogs were Indian—given Indian royalty’s penchant for foreign breeds. This is a late eighteenth century painting of a trainer with two greyhounds:
That preference for vilayati breeds grew even stronger during the colonial era.
Colonial India: Phoren is best
As with other British accoutrements, the colonial sahibs brought their breeds to India. They also brought with them a very different view of dogs—as beloved members of the family. Company School paintings were commissioned by British officials from Indian artists. Most notable of these were works by Maratha artist Gangaram Cintaman Tambat for Charles Warre Malet (1753–1815) of the Bombay Civil Service. For instance, here is portrait of Malet’s dog Chuba:
The Indian assimilation: Dogs also became a way to imitate the British—to affect a certain kind of Western sophistication. They were common in the depictions of idyllic family life—like this one of an Anglo-Indian family titled ‘The Breakfast’ by William Tayler:
Even the great Raja Ravi Varma painted ‘There Comes Papa’—with an Indian woman, baby and dog marking the arrival of the man of the house:
Ravi Varma’s desire to reflect a very British notion of domesticity is striking:
To create this work, the artist used a photograph of his daughter and granddaughter — interestingly, there is no dog there. So this animal was added in the final version of the work. This painting is thematically related to British works showing family scenes, often centred around the “angel in the house” — the heart of the house – the ideal woman, wife and mother. In works presenting this subject, the lady of the house’s pet was often featured. It seems that the artist may have taken the figure of the animal from these works.
The importance of pedigree
Sadly, the English love for dogs was accompanied with an obsession with purity—like the Brahmins—but of a different kind:
The idea that ‘legitimate’ dogs must belong to a breed based on appearance and conformation to physical standards comes from mid-19th century Britain, including the upper-class fox-hunting kennels and the working- and middle-class penchant for ‘dog fancy’ shows.
These standards were based purely on looks—“based not on how well a dog rounds up sheep or retrieves dead birds but on the animal’s physical appearance.”
The Indian Kennel Clubs: Sadly, the British introduced these strict rules and obsession with appearance in India, as well:
In colonial India, the British imported ‘pure breed’ dogs, establishing Kennel Clubs and dog shows that allowed British and local elites to mingle; although some Indian dogs were entered into competitions, they were dominated by British and European breeds.
The Indian Kennel Clubs then “set a cultural precedent for what kind of dogs are celebrated and for what.”
Creation of the ‘pariah’: The British did have one other thing in common with the Brahmins—a conflation of Indian dogs with lower castes. Especially those which roamed freely in the streets—with appalling disregard for genetic purity:
Labelled ‘pariahs’ by the British, street dogs were viewed and treated as outcast in the colonial period. The term’s etymology lay in Paraiyar, the former name of a caste-oppressed community (who are now known as Adi Dravida) from southern India (in what is now Tamil Nadu, Kerala and Sri Lanka) who drummed at weddings, funerals and other occasions, alongside performing other menial tasks (‘drum’ in Tamil is parai). Framing this group as victims of caste oppression, the British nonetheless disdained the Paraiyars’ supposed immorality, drunkenness and brutishness, and used the term ‘pariah’ to refer to outcasts, human and nonhuman alike.
Below is an 1891 sketch by John Lockwood Kipling of a leper with street dog—a visual representation of their shared outcast status:
Point to note: The British also introduced the term “stray” dogs—and the policy of killing these Indian threats to “protect” their foreign-bred pets:
The British introduced this term into Indian law, and saw ‘stray dogs’ as fundamentally illegitimate, in contrast with the pet dogs they brought with them. Dog-care books of the era encouraged British dog owners to keep their pets within their home; and municipal authorities, goaded on by newspapers, introduced legislation that subjected free-living dogs to impoundment and slaughter.
Irony alert: There was little interest in the colonial government in maintaining the purity of Indian breeds. The rajas were far too interested in foreign breeds to care. The task then fell to British dog enthusiasts who developed an affection for indigenous breeds—especially those found in the Himalayas. But once they left, there were very few to carry the baton.
The bottomline: We leave you with this telling bit of data: A Frenchman identified 50 Indian breeds in the eighteenth century. Today, there are only 25.
Coming up: In part two, we introduce you to the amazing Indian breeds and the efforts to save them from extinction. Help has come from the most unexpected quarters.
Reading list
The best read on dogs in the Indian cultural cosmos is a paper titled ‘Multiple Roles of Dogs in India’ by Dorota Kaminska-Jones. Also worth your time: an excerpt in Scroll from Theodore Bhaskaran’s book titled ‘The Book of Indian Dogs’. We also recommend Aeon’s excellent read on Indian streeties. Swaddle spotlights Indians’ obsession with foreign breeds. We republished a delightful visual essay from The Heritage Lab on dogs in Indian art. If you want a taste of colonial attitudes toward dogs and other animals in India, we highly recommend John Lockwood Kipling’s ‘Beast and Man in India’.
