This hasn't been a very productive July for me so far, in terms of herding progress. I've been sidelined by a torn hamstring, and then got sucked into a remodeling project on my house, and my dog has been rather idle as a result. Meanwhile my mind has rambled along on its own, as always, which led me to the thoughts below about the Aussie.

I can't think of another registered breed of dog that is more of a muddle than is my chosen one. From genetics to politics, it is a dauntingly confusing situation. Accidents of history and the cumulative decisions of many people have brought us to this point; what happens next is as unclear as the past. I sometimes wonder whether the Aussie is a breed at all.

The American Heritage Dictionary definition of a breed: “A group of organisms having common ancestors and certain distinguishable characteristics, especially a group within a species developed by artificial selection and maintained by controlled propagation.”

Distinguishable characteristics? When exactly do ‘distinguishable characteristics' become a breed? If the Aussie is described as a working breed, are those lines which characteristically show no interest or talent on stock, really Aussies? If the Aussie is described as an authoritative courageous cow dog, are those lines which are only strong enough to work sheep, really Aussies? What about those lines only big enough to herd ducks? If the Aussie is described as an upright, loose-eyed worker, are those lines which work with as much eye as a Border Collie, really Aussies? What about a dog who is describably Aussie in every other respect but happens to be sable, or some other “wrong” color? These are far from idle questions, but different people, with investments in different aspects of the breed, answer in opposing ways.

In an article titled Genetic Structure of the Purebred Domestic Dog , in the May 2004 issue of Science, researchers exploring purebred dog genomes stated that, of the 85 identified breeds tested, ‘dogs in only four breeds failed to consistently cluster with others of the same breed: Perro de Presa Canario, German Shorthaired Pointer, Australian Shepherd, and Chihuahua.' That is, randomly selected individuals all called “Australian Shepherd” are far more unrelated to each other than is true of the vast majority of other breeds of dogs.

So, if distinguishable characteristics means ‘genetic characteristics', then do we have a breed? I think that's a pretty good question. Yet, the situation makes perfect sense given the history of the Aussie versus that of most of the other tested breeds. Take as example a breed I'm familiar with, the Pembroke Welsh Corgi. This breed was isolated in a small area (Pembrokeshire, Wales), certainly since medieval times and probably longer. In the first half of the 20th century, a small sample was exported to the greater British Isles and then to the United States, from which the present population was derived by a group of devoted fanciers interested primarily in conformation showing. No surprise that geneticists found randomly selected corgis were all related to each other.

In contrast, from at least the nineteenth century up through the 1960's the Aussie was pretty much just another unregistered ranch dog, in a huge, rapidly changing country continually washed with tides of herding dogs drawn from all over the world. Nothing less isolated can be imagined. Genetic diversity with a vengeance!

Even after the Aussie became a breed with a studbook, the divergent ideas of what “distinguishing characteristics” were important soon began making divisions between types. I sure wonder what the pedigrees of those individual Aussies whose genetic relatedness was investigated by those researchers looked like, and what “kind” of Aussie they were.

The Aussie is a wonderful, special kind of dog, but is it a “breed”? A bunch of breeds called by the same name? No breed at all? Lots of questions, and, to my mind, no very clear answers. Perhaps the future will tell us.