The Chow Chow
An Ancient Blue Blood
By Rick Beauchamp

The absorbing myth of the chow's blue tongue is one of many that grace the origin of this beautiful and distinctive breed. No less whimsical is the myth about chows descending from bears, not wolves. Inconceivable as this may sound, a few similarities between the two are sufficient to make some people wonder if nature might not have lent a wry twist to the chow's evolution. How else to explain the chow's independent nature? Or its blue tongue (blue-black, according to the breed standard)? Or the stilted manner in which it moves? To say nothing of the wooly-mammoth resemblance of bear cubs to adult chows?

Arctic Origins

China embraces the chow as its own, yet the oldest physical evidence that links the breed to China is a bas-relief thought to have been created around 150 B.C. This artifact appears to confirm the chow's existence as a hunting dog in China more than 2,100 years ago. The earliest Chinese historical records, however, consistently refer to the chow as the "foreign chow," a reference that shores up the generally accepted theory that chows did not originate in China.

Indeed, some observers believe the chow resulted from crosses between Tibetan mastiffs and Samoyeds; but, say other observers, the chow's blue-black tongue ties knots in that theory because neither the mastiff nor the Samoyed has such a tongue. Instead, that second camp argues, the chow is probably one of the primordial breeds and was, more likely, one of the ancestors of the Samoyed, Norwegian elkhound, keeshond and Pomerian, all of which bear an external, if not a tongue-in-cheek, resemblance to one another.

Many people who think the chow originated outside of China suggest that the breed was forged in Arctic lands from whence it emigrated with barbarian tribes that invaded China in the 11th century B.C. To be sure, historical records reveal that these invaders were accompanied by huge dogs with black tongues. The dogs were reputedly strong enough to dispatch a person with no assistance and fierce enough to be more than happy to do so. These warlike dogs, which were said to resemble lions so closely it was impossible to tell one from the other, were different from any other breed. They had large, broad heads, short muzzles and tiny, deep-set eyes. Their lips touched without overlapping, giving them a distinctive, aloof expression.

Not a Victorian Secret

A pair of chows arrived in England in 1780 on a boat belonging to the East India Company. Gilbert White, rector of Selbourne, England, wrote a meticulous description of those dogs. It was published in Natural History and Antiques of Selbourne. The chow described by White does not differ much in appearance from the chow we know today.

Chows did not begin to appear in England in any number until sometime around 1880. Queen Victoria, the patron queen of many breeds, gave the chow a leg up in popularity when she took an interest in it. The queen's attention ultimately let to the formation of a chow club in England in 1895.

White House Chows

A chow named Takya, the first of its kind exhibited in this country, won third prize in the miscellaneous class at a Westminster Kennel Club show in New York in 1890; but the chow's ascendancy did not begin until people learned that President Calvin Coolidge, a plain-speaking, plain-living man, owned two of these wondrous dogs, Blackberry and Tiny Tim. The president's chows lived in the White House with Coolidge and his wife, Grace, during Coolidge's tenure, 1923-1929.

Rehabilitation and Regression

The presidential seal inspired unscrupulous sorts to attempt to capitalize on the resulting chow craze. As often happens when celebrityhood shines it unstinting spotlight on a breed, too many ill-bred, ill-tempered, nasty-spirited chows were foisted on unsuspecting, uneducated buyers. Their dismay earned the chow a reputation as not only untrustworthy but also, in some cases, dangerous.