The Dog Merchants

by Kim Kavin

  Understanding the impact of forces like social contagion, and knowing what a big business dogs are, should prompt all dog lovers to think far more carefully about why we’re choosing a particular dog the next time we go shopping. If we’re buying a certain type of dog because we think it’s a cool idea, then we’re not asking ourselves, or the sellers, serious questions. Too many of us buyers are letting our subconscious rule, and we’re likely falling prey to marketing tricks or fads, and giving money to the worst sellers out there.

  Another sneaky tactic for which buyers tend to fall is the pixie dust phenomenon. A certain level of magic comes with being unattainable. Celebrities have it. So do kings and queens. When they endorse something, it’s as if they sprinkle their pixie dust on it—and they work hard to make sure they never lose their pixie dust supply. Consumers may know the celebrities’ names, and the biggest stars let the average folk see just enough of their world to maintain adoration, but hardly anyone knows anything real and true about these people. That’s the way they want it, because the more normal they become to consumers, the more their pixie dust fades. “Not many people know this,” writes Martin Lindstrom in Brandwashed, “but the reason many royals wear those long gloves isn’t just for elegance; it’s to create an intentional psychological distance from members of the public.”

  Think about the pageantry of purebred dogs. The crowning of champions. The tales of historic bloodlines. The gold-colored rope placed as a barrier around the winner of the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show. The fact that everyone can see the world’s most expensive dogs on television, but that trying to buy one, to an everyday person, is the equivalent of gaining access to Prince William and Kate Middleton’s youngest child for a play date. It’s all a way of ensuring that certain dogs possess pixie dust. It’s a way of increasing perceived value. If Affenpinschers were available in shelters on every corner, a dog like Banana Joe would look a lot less special standing in a winner’s circle. In fact, he’d seem totally out of context, and his value would plummet.

  Fear-based advertising is another common sales ploy in the world of dogs, a tactic that has worked with tons of products for generations. Everyone dousing her hands in sanitizers nowadays is the modern incarnation of Listerine customers in the 1920s. Back then, everybody had bad breath, and Listerine’s marketing team coined the scary-sounding term “chronic halitosis” to describe it. Suddenly, the public lived in fear of having chronic halitosis and started buying Listerine, to solve a problem that previously bothered few except the accountants calculating the mouthwash maker’s profits.

  Savvy marketers have long known that people want what is safe and clean, which is why dog marketing pitches like this one, from auctioneer Bob Hughes, hit home with so many people who decide to buy a purebred puppy: “If you’ve got a family and two children, and you go to the local shelter to get a pet, you have no history of where that dog came from. Let’s say that dog ate out of a Dumpster and a restaurant owner wore a red apron while chasing that dog away. Then your kid goes out in a red T-shirt and the dog bites your kid in the throat, because it’s been conditioned.”

  Note the lack of any sales pitch for the purebred puppy. He’s not talking about how what he’s selling is good; he’s talking about the fact that if we choose something else, we could be making a fatal mistake. That’s fear-based advertising. It often has nothing to do with the reality of the temperament of a dog in question, and feelings of fear often prevent us from even asking for other sides of the argument, be they temperament testing of puppies or considering an adult shelter dog whose personality is already well formed. As Julie Sanders of Four Paws in Britain puts it: “Some people say they don’t want a rescue dog because they don’t know its history. Well that’s fine, but go get a rescue puppy. It can start out with you.” There is always at least one other side to any sales pitch, and it’s our job as conscious consumers to find it.

  Fear-based advertising meshes perfectly with human desire to purchase products that are healthy. This is sort of the flip side of getting people to buy based on worry, only instead of scaring us, the seller offers a positive alternative that is perceived as healthier. For instance, many people believe that if they eat the fancy-brand protein bar instead of the average cupcake, they’ll be healthier, even though plenty of people who eat an occasional cupcake live perfectly long lives. Some people believe that if they drink water instead of wine, they’re doing something healthier, even though recent studies show a little red wine now and then can be a good thing. This same type of thinking leads us to believe that if we buy one type of dog instead of another, we will have the best chance of her being healthy, too.

  Advertisements for purebreds have long hinted that they are the healthier choice, but more and more research is proving this notion false, exposing it as nothing more than a marketing ploy. There is a reasonable argument to be made that a dog in a shelter may have different behavioral challenges than a purebred puppy—and that purebred puppies from different types of sellers may have their own variations of behavioral issues—but a dog’s health is a different issue. Documentaries like Jemima Harrison’s Pedigree Dogs Exposed are showing that modern breeding practices can actually make dogs less healthy, and research by people like The Genius of Dogs co-author Vanessa Woods is backing up what quite a few veterinarians have long said privately: dogs are individual living creatures, much like humans, and no matter where they originate, some of them are going to have more health problems in life than others. “It’s a DNA crapshoot, this game of genetics,” as veterinarian Patty Khuly wrote for Vetstreet. “Some win, some lose.”

  A sales trick that lends yet another note to this same song is what Lindstrom calls perceived justification symbols. These are things like certificates of authenticity that come with an athlete’s autographed baseball or an artist’s signed print, some type of “marketing moment” that reassures the buyer he has made the right purchase. Is there really any other reason to have a certificate of authenticity from a kennel club verifying a dog’s official registration? The paperwork that comes with some pooches has nothing to do with temperament, health, training, or anything else that makes a dog a great member of a family. If the buyer is not planning to breed more dogs, all the certificate usually means is that a premium has been paid for the pup, and that a piece of paper somehow justifies the extended outlay of cash.

  The notion of a certain purebred being “the best” can affect dog buyers for years, because once we decide a brand is worth paying for, we tend to stick with it. In Born to Buy, Juliet Schor writes that children who can recognize logos by eighteen months old—not even age two—grow up to prefer those brands. If a child is raised eating at McDonald’s, she will likely prefer it to Burger King all her life, and then she’ll take her own children to McDonald’s, furthering the brand relationship again. If we grow up in a family of Yale University graduates, we will forever cheer against Harvard University teams. And anyone who spends his youth playing with a Golden Retriever in the family living room is likely to buy a Golden Retriever when he gets his own dog as an adult, instead of even considering a Plott Hound or a mutt.

  “Look at the rise of designer fashions for the very young,” says Schor, who is a professor of sociology at Boston College. “You have six-, seven-, and eight-year-olds needing to have the ‘big’ names like Armani, Burberry, and Gucci.” Why would kids think of expensive purebred dogs as anything different? Adults sometimes have to work hard, as when shopping for a pooch, to recognize these types of beliefs as something that dates back to childhood.

  Dog buyers also have to work a bit extra as adult shoppers to get past another habit ingrained in us as kids, when we’re taught to believe what people in positions of authority say. As adults, people seem to apply a similar thought process with those considered experts—to the point that part of our cognitive process actually shuts down and we stop thinking for ourselves when a so-called expert offers buying advice.

  Such expert dependence was shown
to be true in 2009 research led by neuroeconomics and psychiatry professor Gregory Berns at the Emory University School of Medicine in Atlanta, Georgia. He and his team used brain-scanning technology to see what happens inside human skulls when people are asked to choose for themselves versus when they are asked to choose with the benefit of expert advice. “This study indicates that the brain relinquishes responsibility when a trusted authority provides expertise,” Berns states. “The problem with this tendency is that it can work to a person’s detriment if the trusted source turns out to be incompetent or corrupt.”

  Whom are dog lovers most likely to see as a person of authority? A breeder who commands $3,500 per puppy, perhaps? Or maybe someone like Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show spokesman David Frei, featured on the news year after year as the man with one dog who is better than all the rest? How might buyers perceive information about dogs coming from, say, a rescuer who fosters homeless puppies in her living room? Might we fail to challenge the big-money breeder and Westminster spokesman with the same types of questions we ask of the rescuer?

  The list of marketing and psychological traps that dog buyers face is far longer than most people imagine. We could spend our entire lives trying to spot them all, and we’d fail. The better approach for conscious consumers is to be aware that, even if a choice seems well researched, sometimes it is not—and to seek far more information from dog sellers than we ever have in the past, to try to break through the most common sales pitches that have maintained the status quo in the dog business for so long.

  “You can buy a purebred-registered, USDA-licensed-kennel puppy from the best breeder in the country, and the puppy can still have a problem. You can do the very best research possible, but the dog may not be perfect. Have you ever adopted a child? It’s never going to be perfect. You’re never going to genetically breed a perfect dog.”

  It may be surprising that those words were spoken not by a rescue advocate, but instead by dog auctioneer Bob Hughes, whose family has likely made more money buying and selling dogs than most other families in world history. Honest breeders, when asked, often say similar things, and they offer evidence of how they stand by the dogs if something goes wrong. Colleen Nicholson, for instance, selling show-quality Dobermans, raises the point about potential problems before buyers even question her, and she offers references from previous clients as proof of her commitment for the long term, along with stacks of paperwork documenting everything she can about every puppy she sells.

  Elizabeth Brinkley, the Sheltie breeder who stands up for breeding rights in her work with lawmakers, outright urges buyers to walk away from any breeder who is making a glowing sales pitch that seems too good to be true. “Get smart. Realize you are not always being told the truth—breeders and rescues,” Brinkley says. “Ask enough questions that you get a feel for the person as much as the dog. If the person showing you these dogs is pushing really hard and you’re getting bad vibes, don’t buy the dog. Use common sense. Don’t feel bad and think you have to get the dog out. All you’re doing is just keeping that guy in business.”

  Stefano Paolantoni, the breeder of Lhasa Apsos, Maltese, and Toy Poodles in Italy, says he would never advise buying a purebred dog from anyone who is selling them without any connections to other breeders. “In my opinion, a potential client should never buy from a breeder who is not showing his stock. A good breeder is the one who goes to shows and who wants to have comparison with other breeders,” he says. “And in my opinion, it is always better to go to visit the breeder and to see with your own eyes the conditions where the dogs are living.”

  Dave Miller, the commercial breeder of Newfoundlands, Beagles, Shiba Inus, Corgis, and Puggles, agrees with Paolantoni on the latter point: buyers should go and see the truth for themselves. As an example, he’s proud to show clients the amount of land on his farm that is devoted to each of his pooches. “Frankly, that’s one reason we raise Newfoundlands,” Miller says. “Not everybody is equipped to raise these big dogs.”

  Doing research before buying a dog does not mean looking at a website. It does not mean reading a book, or a catalog, of different purebred styles. To research something means to investigate it systematically. It means attempting to verify everything. It requires more effort than shopping for a new sweater. It demands that the buyer asks smart questions and listens hard to the answers, instead of hearing whatever it is she wants to hear.

  One of the best things to do in terms of research is arrive at the breeder’s kennel, the shelter’s facility, or the nonprofit’s foster home with printed-out questions in hand. Make a list. Write everything in advance. Everyone knows that the minute we see the dogs, our heartstrings start draining the blood flow away from our brains. If we go in prepared with open-ended questions that force the seller to fill in the blanks, we’re going to do a much better job of actually researching the source.

  Asking open-ended questions is key. They cannot be answered with a yes or no. They usually start with “how” or “why” or “please tell me about,” and they are designed to elicit the most information possible. There is a difference between asking, “Does this dog have a good temperament?” (of course the seller will answer yes) and asking, “How do you, Mr. Seller, know this dog has a good temperament?” The open-ended question will require the seller to explain why he thinks the dog is friendly—which can mean everything from relying on breed stereotypes (a red flag) to discussing temperament testing (better) to explaining how the dog has been living for the past month with three kids, two dogs, and a cat without any problems (ideal).

  The same practice of asking open-ended questions applies to, say, ensuring that every type of dog from a purebred puppy to a senior shelter mutt is free of socialization issues. The question “Have you socialized the dog properly?” is going to elicit a yes, while rephrasing the question as “Please explain what you have done to socialize the dog” is going to give buyers far more information, not only about the particular dog they’re thinking about buying but also about the seller’s beliefs on how dogs should be socialized in the first place.

  Asking open-ended questions almost always leads to more questions, because the more information the consumer can get, the more she is able to understand and think through the reality. That is how to do serious research—about a dog and his seller.

  Here are some additional questions that should be on every buyer’s list:

  When may I visit your kennel, shelter, or foster home? An outright never should be a big, flashing warning sign. Some breeders don’t want strangers inside their kennels because the adult dogs may get scared and puppies could get hurt, but responsible breeders will show us, at least from a distance, the conditions in which the dogs are being raised.

  How would you feel about the veterinarian or trainer of my choice coming with me to assess your dogs—not just the puppy I want, but his parents, too? The second part of this obviously applies to breeders instead of shelters, but it can also be enlightening to have a veterinarian or trainer by our side when we walk through a shelter or meet with a nonprofit rescuer. Any seller who refuses an independent examination of a dog (at our expense, not his) should raise serious questions in our minds.

  What protocols do you follow for making sure the dog is healthy and friendly? Good answers include things like health certificates and vaccine records from veterinarians, high-quality food, toys or activities, and socialization with adults, children, and other dogs. Ask for proof. Demand to see a stack of documents, as well as videos and photographs when available. Anyone buying a dog for the first time can call a veterinarian and ask what health papers should be provided with a puppy, to be sure the seller’s answer is a good one.

  What references can you provide from previous buyers? Having no references is a huge warning sign for breeders, shelters, and nonprofit rescuers alike. Who would eat at a restaurant without any good reviews, or hire a handyman, let alone buy a dog who is going to become a part of our lives for more than a decade?

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sp; How are you registered as a charity? This obviously applies to rescue groups and shelters. While it does not guarantee anything about the health or temperament of a dog, it does show that the organization is not fly-by-night, and that it is likely to be a known entity with the appropriate oversight agencies.

  What paperwork do you have on this dog’s history? Breeders should be able to offer paperwork not only about the dog in question, but also about the dog’s parents and perhaps several prior generations. Rescuers and shelters may be able to provide paperwork from other locations where the dog may have originated, or from a veterinarian who has seen the dog elsewhere, which lets buyers contact those people to see if they have any additional information about the dog.

  What do you know about the dog’s parents or siblings? Even rescuers sometimes know something about at least one of the dog’s parents. Not all dogs in shelters are strays or singles. Entire litters of puppies are taken to shelters, sometimes with the mother dog right alongside. Buyers might be able to meet the mother or at least talk to whoever adopted the other puppies in the litter, to get a sense of their health and temperament. When adopting a puppy, ask if the mother dog, too, is available for adoption. Even if we don’t want the older dog ourselves, we want to know the rescue organization is working to help more than just the fast-selling puppies.

  How many breeding females do you have, and how is your kennel licensed or inspected? In most parts of the world, a number greater than four to six females on the first question usually means we are dealing with a commercial breeder versus a hobby breeder. Knowing the truth helps to determine whether state and federal inspection records may exist (in the case of commercial breeders). Those records are usually available online, free of charge, from government agencies. Beware anyone breeding more than four to six females who says he is not licensed or inspected in any way.