By Michael Brandow
A provocative examine the "cult of pedigree" and an pleasing social heritage of purebred dogs
In this illuminating and pleasing social background, social critic Michael Brandow probes the "cult of pedigree" and lines the industrial upward thrust of the purebred puppy. Combining shopper reports with sharp remark, A subject of Breeding finds the sordid background of the puppy and exhibits how our brand-name pets—from Labs to French bulldogs and every little thing in between—pay the cost with devastatingly bad well-being.
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Extra info for A Matter of Breeding: A Biting History of Pedigree Dogs and How the Quest for Status Has Harmed Man's Best Friend
Now he noticed, or admitted the existence of, a dangling piece of lobe above his Adam’s apple, like those bits on turkeys, what ever they were called. Wattles. A muffled thump came from the landing outside the apartment as if someone had dropped something soft and heavy. The cicada outside crawled a few centimeters up the cracked bark, tried a few experimental clicks before striking up again and rapidly increasing the frequency to a level that seemed unsustainable. Then the doorbell rang. Arturo glanced around and picked his bathrobe off the towel rack, revealing Tommaso’s comically small one underneath.
As he returned the groceries back to the box, he marked them off against the receipt. Paoloni had been right: thirty-five items. When everything was back in, he discovered that two listed items seemed to be missing: one jar of Nutella (400 g) and one of “Crema arach” (250 g). Peanut butter! So they sold peanut butter in the shops up here. Maybe he’d buy some. His father had been a great believer in the goodness of peanut butter. Sometimes the three of them would make a special shopping trip to Castroni on Via Cola di Rienzo and stock up on peanut butter, Hershey bars, melting marshmallows, Jell-O, rice pudding, maple syrup, Paul Newman salad dressings, Mexican tortilla chips and taco shells, shortening, root beer, sweet mince.
Knife attack,” said Dorfmann, completely ignoring Paoloni. ” said Blume. Dorfmann continued. “Four wounds. Stomach, lower abdomen, throat, head—behind the orbital lobe. All of them potentially fatal. He was probably dead when the last blow came. The knife hand-guard left a sign in the lower abdomen, so it went in with some force. Probably right-handed. What are you doing here? I don’t see why I should repeat what I just told your dandy colleague. No evident bruising elsewhere, nothing sexual that I can see despite the open robe, though we’ll wait for the autopsy.
A Matter of Breeding: A Biting History of Pedigree Dogs and How the Quest for Status Has Harmed Man's Best Friend by Michael Brandow