Now extinct, the Coast Salish Woolly Dog was a beloved companion, sacred kin and valuable textile source as its silky, light-coloured, wooly coat provided exceptional fibre. These dogs became so rare around the beginning of the 20th century, they were declared a lost breed.

(Harbour $36.95)

Review by Odette Auger

One of the last of this breed was collected as a specimen in the later 1800s and held in the Smithsonian in Washington DC with the nickname, “Mutton,” as detailed in this book.

But Sqʷəmey̓ (pronounced “skwum ey”) would be a more appropriate title for this book. As contributor xʷə ́ lməxʷ Kerrie Charnley (Katzie) notes of the use of “Mutton”: “this name is questionable and not appropriate within the Coast Salish People’s knowledge system and protocols.”

The repetition in explaining the obvious origins of the collector who nicknamed one of these special sqʷəmey̓ Mutton, could have been better spent expanding on the deep loss of these esteemed dogs. Mountain goats don’t live on Vancouver Island, so lacking animal fibre, having sqʷəmey̓ intentionally bred for its wool made it a very valuable resource for First Nation weavers.

Chapter six explores the ancient origins of the Woolly Dog, with detailed DNA science refuting any doubt that this breed existed. Hand in hand with DNA science, the book really shines when it centres Indigenous voices to illuminate the story of sqʷəmey̓. Fourteen Knowledge Keepers, weavers and Elders are acknowledged as co-authors, bringing Musqueam, Squamish, Stó:lō, Suquamish, Cowichan, Katzie, Snuneymuxw and Skokomish narratives of science to this episode of devastating colonial impacts.

Master spinner Liz Hammond-Kaarremaa lives in Snuneymuxw territory and was researching the unique tools, techniques and fibres of Coast Salish spinning that led her to seek out a sqʷəmey̓ pelt discovered at the Smithsonian Museum in Washington D.C. by an amateur archivist and historian. She struggles with the question of whether Mutton died a natural death and became a specimen, “or if he was killed before his time for the purpose of becoming a specimen. In either case, we now have his remains, from which we can learn a great deal.”

A subcurrent theme weaves through the book, chronicling amateur anthropologists pillaging communities and getting Indigenous people to sell culturally significant items to collectors and museums. There’s a marked attempt to soften the reality, acknowledged by Hammond-Kaarremaa when she says, “I don’t like the idea that his life ended prematurely, solely so that he could be ‘collected.’”

The teachings of sqʷəmey̓ range from recognizing Indigenous science to ancestral knowledge. Only a page digs into the actual weaving techniques, but the ninth chapter outlines the interesting processing of the Woolly Dog hair, with the following chapter detailing “What did the Woolly Dogs look like?”

qwustenuxun Jared Williams (Cowichan) shares the beginning of the relationship between humans and the Woolly Dog. The first ancestor Stutsun walked the mountains and valleys, alone, and prayed and sang to his Creator for a friend. “Creator had seen fit to gift him with the most sacred human companion, a dog.”

Indigenous place names and family histories remember the value of sqʷəmey̓, but the lack of who, how and why the dogs were destroyed en masse seems odd in a book dedicated to sqʷəmey̓.

Hammond-Kaarremaa paraphrases teachings shared with her, including that some of the knowledge passed down is for specific families and, therefore, private or has been interrupted by colonial violence. Smallpox killed over two-thirds of Coast Salish people within two years, with some saying dogs were released to fend for themselves, leading to interbreeding and the loss of Woolly Dogs. “There have been attempts to say that the reason for the extinction of the Salish Woolly Dog is that we merely allowed them to breed out, die off or otherwise disappear,” writes snumithia’ Violet Elliott, (snuneymuxw, Cowichan). “In my educated opinion, that would not have been allowed to happen. These dogs were sacred beings; they were not a mere resource, but an integral part of our being and community. They were just as much family as our human kin.”

snumithia’ refers to an archaeological dig in Nanaimo where the Civic Arena used to be and that prior to contact that site was known as Squmeyulqun, or Dog Island. “At that site, they unearthed hundreds of dog bones, piled up,” says snumithia’. “Evidence points toward those dogs being slaughtered.” Throughout colonization there is a common thread, she says: “Settler colonizers killed off that which Indigenous Peoples held dear and important to survive, whether that be physically, culturally, emotionally or spiritually.” She compares this destruction with that of the buffalo and the banning of the potlatch. For context, note that the smallpox epidemic of 1862–1863 was immediately followed by British Columbia abandoning the treaty process and simply taking Indigenous land outright.

Although we can’t watch sqʷəmey̓ run and play, and weavers no longer have the silky, woolly hair to weave, Knowledge Keeper snumithia’ teaches, “that our Ancestors’ learnings from being in connection to them [sqʷəmey̓] have lived on.” In this way, The Teachings of Mutton is a helper to this knowledge continuing.

A documentary about the Coast Salish Woolly Dog is set to release in the Fall of 2025. 9781998526024

Odette Auger, award-winning journalist and storyteller, is Sagamok Anishnawbek through her mother and lives as a guest in toq qaymɩxʷ (Klahoose), ɬəʔamɛn qaymɩxʷ (Tla’amin), ʔop qaymɩxʷ (Homalco) territories.