Dogs during the settlement of Iceland

There are no written records or detailed descriptions from the Age of Settlement. Our knowledge comes mainly from the books Landnámabók and Íslendingabók, which are both from the 12th century. There are few sources regarding dogs from the first centuries of settlement in Iceland. No descriptions of sheepdogs can be found in the Icelandic sagas, and there is very little mention of dogs in general. However, one can mention Gunnar at Hlíðarendi’s dog, Sámur, who is believed to have been an Irish wolfhound. 

Knowledge comes also from archaeological investigations.
In Keldudal in Hegranes in Skagafjörður, a burial site was accidentally discovered when the foundation for a new guesthouse was being dug. Upon initial investigation, it became clear that this was the remains of a Christian burial ground, and that it was at least partially older than the Hekla eruption in 1104. Later, a burial mound area was also found on the site.

In extensive archaeological investigations conducted in 2002–2003, not only human remains were found, but also animal bones in several burial mounds. Some of these were from full-grown tall and short-legged dogs, which tells us about the existence of dogs in various sizes and "types" shortly after the Age of Settlement. 

Interested parties are referred to the investigation report. As far as I can see unfortunately only available in Icelandic.

Although we have only limited sources from the Age of Settlement, we can imagine how the dog, which later became the Icelandic Sheepdog, came to the country and became part of daily life, in both joy and sorrow.

Let us now turn to a story found in the book The Icelandic Sheepdog: The Dog of the Vikings by Tom Verbeeck, which was published earlier this year and is an excellent read for friends of the Icelandic Sheepdog. In the book, Tom discusses the relationship between the Vikings and their dogs, which I find particularly fascinating because it gives us some insight into how they chose their dogs before embarking on their journey to Iceland.

"The journey from the mainland to Iceland was quite an undertaking. Most people who ventured on the crossing were small farming families, drawn by the promise of land and freedom. There are no written sources that tell us about the crossing, but most likely, a farmer who had taken the leap would have told the following story:

In the late summer, as the days began to shorten and a cool breeze crept through the air, I gathered with my family our most valuable possessions. We had heard the stories, the rumors of an untamed land in the north waiting to be discovered and inhabited. Iceland, so the winds whispered, offered a fresh start, a chance for a better life amidst the abundant resources and space of the unknown land.

Our knarr, a sturdy trading ship that served as a sort of home away from home, lay ready at the rugged coast. Her hull had cleaved through the fierce waves of many seas, and now she was poised to carry us, brave souls, to the promise of a new future. The knarr, laden with wooden crates, food supplies, and clothing, also provided space for a farmer's most cherished possession: his herd.

The sun reflected off the sparkling waters as we guided our sheep, cattle, and horses into the cargo hold. Straw and hay were carefully spread to provide a comfortable shelter for our faithful companions during the long journey ahead. The air was filled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, for while we dreamed of a fresh start, we knew the path would not be without its challenges.

The sail was hoisted, and the wind propelled our knarr forward with powerful gusts. The seas were unpredictable, at times rough and wild, then calm and reassuring. Days passed as we sailed northward, the horizon always shrouded in a haze of hope and promise. Our dogs, faithful companions who were as much a part of our family as the livestock we transported, barked excitedly as they roamed the ship back and forth.

The journey was no simple feat. Along the way, we faced challenges, from rough storms to calm days where we longed for the land we hoped to reach. But eventually, after weeks of determination and perseverance, the rugged coast of Iceland loomed before us.

We felt the tension in the air as we stepped ashore and carefully led our animals onto land. The ground beneath our feet was rough and untouched, a canvas waiting to be shaped and cultivated by us. We were pioneers, intrepid farmers embarking on a new life in this unknown land. With the knarr in the distance, rocking on the waves, as a witness, we began to establish our settlement, our sheep and cattle grazing on the vast meadows, while our dogs eagerly scanned the hills for signs of life.

Thus began our adventure in Iceland, with our ships as silent witnesses to our determination and perseverance. The knarr and its crew, with livestock and dogs on board, brought us to a new chapter of our lives, where we planted our dreams and hopes in the fertile soil and began to forge our future in the rugged landscape of the unknown land.

With each passing day, our bonds with the land grew stronger and deeper. Our sheep grazed on flower-strewn hillsides, finding sustenance amid the lush vegetation. The cattle traversed the valleys, seeking respite by clear streams, while our horses tested their sturdy legs on the rugged paths we began to forge.

Our dogs, loyal companions seamlessly adapted to our new life, were indispensable. They raced eagerly across the hills, searching for our scattered herds. Their keen senses and vigilant nature aided not only in guarding our livestock against potential threats but also in guiding the sheep back home once found. The barking of the dogs filled the air as they led the herd back to the farm, their tails proudly curled on their backs.

During lambing season, we kept our sheep close, knowing the vulnerable newborns required extra care and protection. Our dogs were ever-present, their watchful gaze on the lookout to deter potential birds of prey eyeing our precious lambs. Their actions akin to a dance of protection and care, tirelessly guarding the herds and aiding us in preventing a loss that would hinder our efforts.

Our settlement grew and flourished, through the hard work of our hands and the faithful dedication of our animals. The dogs always by our side. During the day, they played an active role in the farm work; herding the livestock, guarding the property, and offering a helping paw where needed. In the evenings and nights, lounging at our feet or on the bed, sharing their warmth with us on cold dark nights.

The seasons changed and the years passed. Our dogs were not just guardians and workers, but also beloved companions and friends. They shared our joys and sorrows, our triumphs and setbacks. And as we shaped our new life in Iceland, the dogs became a vibrant thread in the fabric of our existence, a constant reminder of our connection to the land, the livestock, and each other. And so, the history of our settlement is infused with the presence and dedication of these remarkable animals. They were part of our daily life and formed an indelible part of our memories. Their loyalty, devotion, and versatility aided us at every step of our adventure in Iceland, and their legacy lives on in the hearts of us and future generations."

Thank you for taking us along on this journey, Tom!