Having a dog is one of those American dream things that, for the most part, remains undisputed: Marriage has been exposed for its mundane treachery, child-rearing has become fraught and expensive, and white picket fences? Not in this economy! Pet dogs, however, are regarded as a universally fulfilling experience, of which not a small part hinges upon what kind of dog you have.
Of all the nouveau status items in the orbit of our culture — the legendary lemons of Lulu, the Teslas, the Apples (non-fruit), and so much beige furniture — the only hindrance to having it all is one’s credit card limit and for some, allergies. At least, that seems to be the idea behind the prevalence of all these doodle dogs. It started with the labradoodle, and now countless dogs have been spiked with poodle DNA to create the cockapoo, goldendoodle, schnoodle, cavoodles, roodles, yorkiepoo, shihpoo, maltipoo, poochon, lhasapoo, and more (if you don’t immediately clock the portmanteau, well).
No dog is safe from being doodled — not when our collective allergies are at their worst, and our demand for designer dogs is at its highest. It used to be “adopt, don’t shop,” but that was before all these dogs got a success perm written into their genetics with the idea that curls are hypoallergenic (a common misconception).
I see these labradoodles (the original doodle™) all over the city, flopping around the dog parks, shuffling about the streets like some sort of bouclé upholstered AT-AT Walker, arms and legs too long for its body. You know that affirming joy of passing by a dog who looks you in the face and holds eye contact as if to say, “Hello, I am acknowledging your presence!”? When I look into the face of a labradoodle, I feel an ominous sense that this creature knows too much. They hold my gaze with the silently telegraphed plea of a wizard serving out a transfiguration sentence for wizard crimes inside the body of an off-brand canine. Those who are susceptible to the doodle may anthropomorphize human qualities unto them, and even give them human names like Steven or Daisy, but I know better. That is the pupillary distance of an apex predator. Or a wizard trapped in a dog’s body.
As they exist at the pleasure of our convenience, of course, there must be a kind of ironic wish-fulfillment curse about them. Even the breeder Wally Conran who first smanged a poodle and a labrador together for a client’s custom order has expressed remorse for his abomination. "So many people are just breeding for the money. So many of these dogs have physical problems, and a lot of them are just crazy.” I have never personally met a labradoodle who could read a room. They’re all over the place. It’s as if ADHD was bred into them. One thing is clear: we have got to stop doodling these dogs!
But none of this is the doodle’s fault. They are a product of human hubris, of too much mischievous hand-rubbing and too little regard for antihistamines. People who buy doodles cannot shut the fuck up about them. It’s like they’ve pulled one over on the system – the system that decides who is allergic to dogs and who could ostensibly just have a different pet instead.
Having a doodle has become a lifestyle the way having an air fryer is a lifestyle. They are meant to optimize one’s lifestyle and minimize friction while also being tedious to clean / always having the worst crusty eye boogers. These doodles possess the privilege of purebred, designer dogs, even though they are the offspring of an interracial relationship. Their very doodling makes them poseurs. But don’t tell that to someone who paid all that money for a doodle and its obedience training (that only worked with the trainer), just so they can smugly say “he’s a shmoodle” when asked by every third passerby on their daily walks in Williamsburg.
That’s generally the first thing people ask about dogs, isn’t it. What is he? (And why do we always assume it’s a “he?”) Meaning: what is the breed of your animal? I mean, that’s a pretty rude question, full stop. It’s like the human equivalent of where are you really from? (No wonder white people love asking both). But might we be taking this whole canine eugenics a bit far? You can’t just doodle your way out of minor inconveniences, like pet allergies or having a dog that looks like a dog and not a plushie toy. Poodles are not panaceas, just as doodles don’t actually deliver the status we think we can buy. Besides, when the doodle is eclipsed by the next trendy cross-breed, what will be left of these chaos muppets? As Wally Conran, the inventor of the labradoodle, has said, “It was a gimmick, and it went worldwide. It worked.” On a lot of us, it appears.
—Dr. Dooless
As one of the aforementioned dog allergy sufferers… justice for those of us who know that hypoallergenic dogs Do Not Exist and continue to have doodles shoved upon us with the naive (and presumptuous) assertion of “don’t worry he’s hypoallergenic!” IF HE LICKS ME I WILL INFLAME, JANET.
BOUCLE