Strútur from Ólafsvellir

Reprinted from the Logberg-Heimskringla with permission

STRÚTUR’S SAGA - Canada's first Iceland Dog

It was altogether too much for my dad, Thor. Next door, the very English Arthur and Eunice had a bulldog. “Rajah” was a loving, low-slung bruiser with a typical sour-mug face. A couple of houses down, the Lafrenières had a perfectly coifed, pom-pom tailed poodle. Its name escapes me, but I think it was something like “CoCo” or “Coquette.” And to top it off, across the back lane was “Paddy,” the Murphy’s rosy wild setter.

The gauntlet, as my dad saw it, had clearly been thrown down. Our family needed to have our own heritage pet, a dog of Icelandic origin. Eagerly rising to the issued challenge, Dad began to investigate. The year was 1968. This meant heading off to the library to conduct research, making calls on a rotary dial to various dog clubs, and posting letters of enquiry to be delivered by a human. No search engines, no phones without a cord attached to a wall, and no mail delivery by electronic means.

Weeks and weeks went by and nothing; no one knew anything about a dog from Iceland. Not quite daunted, but nearing desperation, Dad next reached out to Haraldur Bessason, the chair of the Icelandic Department at the University of Manitoba. “Help me out here, would you? Is there actually such a thing as an Icelandic Dog?” Haraldur’s reply, one from which I am not certain Dad ever fully recovered due to the shame of it all, but which did eventually give him much pleasure to repeat: “Is it a thing? Does it exthist? Thurely, Thor, you have not forgotten your Thakespeare!” whereupon Haraldur proceeded to quote from Henry V,

“Pish for thee, Iceland dog!

Thou prick-ear’d cur of Iceland!”

Acting on the suggestion to start with Tollstjórinn in Reykavík (the Icelandic customs office), Dad wrote requesting to be put in contact with any kennel clubs or dog breeding societies in Iceland. It was the first of many communications in Strútur’s saga (Strútur was our dog’s name – more about that below), communications which required the involvement and permissions of many different authorities, over the span of many months – nine, in fact.

Part of the difficulty was because, at the time, there weren’t any canine clubs or societies in Iceland. But a farm on the south coast had been located and it was possible a Frú Sigríður Pétursdóttir could assist with our family’s quest. Dad’s exchanges with Sigríður, hers written on now extremely fragile tissue-like paper, are delightful reading and evidence in detail of the great lengths to which they each went to secure Strútur’s safe arrival. He was the very first Iceland Dog to be exported to Canada and there was a lot to arrange.

There was the crate. Sigríður had it hand-made by an “old man” and apologized for the exorbitant $18.50 Canadian cost. But would that we still had it! Wood beautifully varnished, braided leather handle straps, and brass cast hardware everywhere, including the viewing grid and all around the ventilation holes! There was the travel. Strútur went from Ólafsvellir, the farm in Árnessýsla about 1.5 hours outside of Reykjavík, then onto a three-hour flight with Flugfélag Íslands regional airline to London, England. After a 30-hour layover in the care of the UK R.S.P.C.A. Transit Kennel Services, he boarded Air Canada’s 11.5 hour direct flight to Winnipeg.

Over 40 hours! And there was the paperwork. Iceland was absolutely free of all canine diseases in 1969 and dogs could only be vaccinated for measles. The Canadian Federal Department of Agriculture, however, required a verification certificate from Iceland’s Chief Veterinary Officer. It also required Dad’s undertaking that immediately upon Strútur’s landing in Winnipeg, he would be administered shots for distemper and rabies. Early in the morning of August 8th, 1969 (very early, around 4 a.m.), Dad received a call from the Winnipeg Airport – “Come get your dog,” he was told. “No, it cannot wait until you reach your vet, you need to come now.” Initially, Dad was terrified something had happened, something had gone wrong. However, as it turned out, in her efforts to make Strútur “in every way as comfortable as possible,” Sigríður had packed his travelling crate with harðfiskur. And after some 40 hours, he absolutely reeked of fish! No wonder his presence at the airport was not wanted.

About Strútur’s name. Along with his alluring aroma, he came with it. It comes up now as “ostrich” on Google Translate, which in light of Strútur’s mainly black and white colouring might be appropriate. Translations provided by my afi, Dr. Petur Guttormsson, and his 1963 Íslenzk Orðabók are much preferred and, I think, much more accurate. Strútur = trefill vafinn hátt um hálsinn (Scarf wrapped high about the neck) and Strútóttur = Um lit hunda. Með hvítan háls, en dökkur að öðru leyti (About the colour of dogs. With white neck but dark coloured otherwise).

Strútur was a wonderful dog and there is so much more to his long and involved account, his 14-year “saga.” His ice-disk creations, herding cars, his love of the lake, and especially its washed-up fish. What you read here is also long from the first in LH about just how wonderful Iceland Dogs are. I am aware of at least two articles: a front-page feature in the October 18, 1973, issue (in Icelandic) and “The Rare and Charming Iceland Dog,” which was published (in English) on October 25, 1973.

It does surprise me that not many, if any, Iceland Dogs are seen around here these days, particularly around Gimli. Íslendingadagurinn 2023 includes an opportunity to see Icelandic sheep and one can always hope to see parading Icelandic horses. Maybe one day, the festival will have an event celebrating all our Icelandic Canadian animals – the chickens might like that. In the meantime, our Strútur is celebrated every July 18th on “Icelandic Sheepdog Day,” and, as part of the Iceland Dog Exhibition opening in Iceland in 2024, his saga will be preserved.

Published in Lögberg-Heimskringla • 1 August 2023

Kolur, sire of Strútur. Photo provided by Sigríður Pétursdottir in June 1969.

Salín would be happy to hear your comments and answer any questions. Feel free to contact her in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada at: [email protected]