Some people went to church on Sunday morning. Me, I drove to Aurora to meet a six-toed dog from Norway whose ancestor’s hobby was climbing cliffs to chow on puffin eggs.
As religious experiences go, I’m not suggesting that laying eyes on the dog beat sitting in a church pew. Still, owners of Norwegian lundehunds border on rapture when talking about the breed.
“They really are remarkable dogs,” said Kay Dahlinger, who had just taken Elle, a world champion lundehund, from her crate at Exposition Park for the Bark in the Park canine fest. “They’re very much a family dog and love to snuggle. Even today, people in Norway use them as bedwarmers.”
Given that only 1,200 to 1,500 of the dogs exist in the world — 20 in metro Denver — those are privileged feet curling up against the lundehunds, a spitz-like breed that stands about a foot high and has a sharp, intelligent face.
Did I mention they have six toes on each splayed paw, two more than you find in other breeds?
Lundehunds have a remarkable history. They are Ice Age survivors who fed on puffin eggs — “lunde” is Norse for puffin, and “hund” means hound — and also ate fish and shellfish. Hyper-flexible animals, they can twist their heads and forelegs in ways that would make an Olympic gymnast lie down and quit, which is what gives them an edge in the dog-versus-puffin sweepstakes.
Settlers domesticated them in the Middle Ages, training them to hunt and bring back live puffins from the rocky Norwegian cliffs on the cusp of the Arctic Circle. The birds’ meat sustained people through the winter; the feathers were used for trade.
It was a swell arrangement for all parties — except the puffin.
But disease nearly wiped out the dogs by World War II. Only careful breeding brought them back. Paul Ross, a lundehund fancier in Palisade, brought the first pair to Colorado in the mid-1980s.
Kat Rainesalo huddled under a tent at Exposition Park with Keija, her lundehund. It was a chilly day, but the dog, with its coarse outer coat and silky undercoat, seemed a happy camper.
“I first saw one at a show in 2005, and just fell in love with them,” Rainesalo told me. “They’re friendly, they like people, and they’re a beta dog. They’ll hide before they go out and fight.”
Her husband, Rick, cradled their female, Amber, in the crook of his arm.
“I got dragged to a lundehund show and Kat decided she wanted one,” he said. “The first thing I asked was why we were getting involved with a dog with such a small population worldwide.”
But he knows something about strategy and defense — the man is retired from the Army — and soon enough lundehunds had joined the household.
Back at her display tent, Dahlinger scratched Elle behind the ears. “They still have some of that survivalist in them, some of that feralness,” she said.
Elle wagged her tail. Visitors arrived, marveling at her six toes. Not for nothing had Aurora Mayor Ed Tauer declared Sunday Norwegian Lundehund Day.
A teenage girl walked up to check out the fuss. Her eyes bugged out. “That is so cool!”
The lundehund didn’t know it, but praise from teenage girls doesn’t get much higher. All in all, though, you knew the dog would prefer a puffin egg any day.
William Porter writes Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Reach him at wporter@denverpost.com or 303-954-1977.
