Have you ever thought of how a dog got a name?

Have you ever thought of how a dog got a name? No, I don’t mean Fido or Rover, the kind of usual name we tend to give dogs in England, I mean the breed name that appears in the Kennel Club’s official registers or say Crufts. You know, dachshund or basset hound etc.

Well the dachshund is originally from Germany and the word means “badger dog” and it was used to hunt badgers, and other burrowing animals as its short legs enabled it to get into holes.

Meantime in France they had another short legged dog that was handy in rabbit or hare hunting plus its long ears enhanced its scenting its prey. This dog is called a basset hound, The name Basset is derived from the French word bas, meaning "low", with the attenuating suffix -et, together meaning "rather low".

My story is about how this all might come about, this naming a new type of dog, and how we missed an opportunity to have a new breed of working dog.

This tale starts in 1983 shortly after the sad death of Tina’s Dad following his long illness. I was in Newfoundland but Tina and Velia were in England with Nan until he died from a form of motor neuron disease. Velia was a bright seven year old girl at that time and with a child’s kind insight said “ He’ll be alright now, he won’t be bored anymore!”  

Nan saw an advert in the local paper that offered ‘puppies free to good home’ and took Velia to see them and they were beguiled by the scruffiest, smallest, and liveliest of the litter. The puppy had been born on the day Tina’s Dad died. And so the family acquired Bessie, the easiest dog ever to train, and a dog that beguiled everyone, and was part of the family for the next 17 years. It was Velia’s dog though really.

What kind of dog you ask? Heinz 57 varieties is the answer, however a vet of some repute in Shetland said that the ‘predominant breed in her was a bearded collie.’

Tina and Velia rejoined me in Newfoundland leaving Nan in England with Bessie.

The following year, 1984, Nan came for a holiday to Newfoundland and brought Bessie too! It was not a problem as Canada rated the UK rabies-free and dogs could be brought in from Britain without a quarantine. After the holiday I wrote to Nan and asked her to come and live with us in Newfoundland. She lived with us for the rest of her life. She was Tina’s Mum but she had become my Mum too from the 1950s - we loved her, we miss her.

Nan did not adjust to Newfoundland, she became a Newfie. She was a marvellous cook and was using moose meat, seal meat, she could do a jiggs dinner etc but she loved the people and the great outdoors. Leave her alone in a mall and you would return to find her with an audience chatting. I think that I get my storytelling from her!

Bessie thought that she had died and gone to heaven! A dog's brain is also specialized for identifying scents. The percentage of the dog's brain that is devoted to analyzing smells is actually 40 times larger than that of a human! And so here she was in this place that epitomised the great outdoors and people enjoyed going outdoors, they took her outdoors and then did what dogs do explore it. Yes it was a canine version of heaven.

We had many trips out to parks and trails. Holidays too, for example 1986 and 1987 we went to Eastport and stayed there. Bessie went too. Of course one of things we did each August/September was that great Newfoundland tradition of berry picking and then the dog was in seventh heaven. The family it loved rummaging in the woods - what fun! The prize berry in Newfoundland is the blueberry and it grows in great wild profusion.

Bessie would find the berries with us and quite frequently yaffle some so that her muzzle became blue stained from the juice. She was emulating the black bears in Newfoundland,  I have spotted them from a helicopter filling their face with these luscious berries preparing for hibernation.The dog could really find those berries.

One day I met up with another guy in the woods, a Newfoundlander, and we exchanged pleasantries as one does in that island, important things like fishing, the weather, hockey prospects, and similar stuff. Anyway Bessie was doing her thing, finding blueberries, getting her muzzle stained and being a happy dog. So the Newfoundlander asked me - what kind of dog?

Without thinking I said - “She’s a blueberry hound.”

And he replied - “Yes boy - a good dog to have.”

Now before you think that I am taking the mickey out of this guy you had better remember that Newfoundland is a beautiful lsland but it is tough, very tough, and you do not survive by being stupid. One premise that the Newfoundlander practices is “When I see a bird that walks like a duck and swims like a duck and quacks like a duck, I call that bird a duck.” In otherwords abductive reasoning, what you are seeing is what it is. This dog finds blueberries, can smell blueberries, eats blueberries, it’s a blueberry hound.

What a shame that Bessie was spayed, she might have been the first of a new breed of dogs - a blueberry hound. And before you think that I am daft just remember the Italians use dogs to find truffles that are worth huge money.So I leave you with this image of a dog in its heaven.