Bring Back the Poodle

When we had our brown standard poodle, people would stop and ask, "Oh wow... is she a full poodle?" A full poodle? Of course she is. Look at her.

I always had a little chuckle because, yes, she was. a full poodle. The original version. No Labrador, Cavalier, or Golden Retriever hidden somewhere in the family tree. Just... poodle.

It was the first time it dawned on me that the poodle had somehow become the minority in its own gene pool.

Somewhere along the way, the oodle took over. The mixed version became the norm, and the actual poodle became the unusual one. The breed that started it all was suddenly a rare sighting.

You can hear the little girl with her mum across the dog park point at our poodle, Frankie, and ask, "Mum... is that where our cavoodle, Paris, came from?" "Yes, dear, that's right, that dog is the poodle part of our Paris"... the poodle part!

The poor poodle has really been put to work over the years. At some point, someone looked at a poodle and thought, "You know what would make my dog even better? Add poodle."

Labrador? Add poodle.

Cavalier? Add poodle.

Golden Retriever? Add poodle.

Schnauzer? Add poodle.

If your dog had four legs, a heartbeat, and a nice personality, someone decided it probably needed a poodle.

It is a compliment because it suggests that the poodle gives an upgrade to the dog she is being paired with, but it is also a little rude.

Surely the poodle gets a vote.

Every dog owner thinks their dog is beautiful. I get it. We do too - Frankie is fabulous. But surely the poodle gets to look across the yard and say, "I'm sure your American Bulldog is lovely, but after watching Van Wilder on the couch with my family the other night, I have concerns that that guy is not my type of fella."

Surely the poodle gets to size up her incoming partner and say, I just don't think we are meant to be, sorry, I understand you had grand plans, but I am just not that into him.

There has to be some level of poodle quality control.

Not every dog needs a poodle upgrade.

Maybe the poodle just wants to stand there and say, "I'm not an ingredient."

Our poodle was desexed, which made the whole thing even funnier because you could almost see people mentally assessing her.

Beautiful coat. Nice size. Lovely nature.

Then I'd interrupt their imaginary breeding program with, "Sorry, mate. She's retired before she even started; she can't have pups."

No collaborations. No mergers. No joint ventures.

She wasn't interested in helping create the next boutique designer dog with a six-month waiting list and a name ending in "oodle."

Don't get me wrong, I love oodles. Some of them are absolutely gorgeous. The cavoodle has practically become Australia's unofficial family dog, and I reckon every second café has at least three of them sitting politely under a table waiting for someone to drop a piece of banana bread.

But I do think it's time we gave the full poodle a little more respect.

When you see one, don't think of it as the missing ingredient for the next designer breed.

You're looking at the original. The blueprint. The dog that launched a thousand oodles.

The poodle isn't an upgrade pack, it is the whole game.