Canine Companions in the Middle Ages: Insights from Medieval Texts about Beloved Pets

In the middle ages, most dogs had jobs. In his book De Canibus, the 16th-century English physician and scholar John Caius described a hierarchy of dogs, which he classified first and foremost according to their function in human society.

At its apex were specialised hunting dogs, including greyhounds, known for their “incredible swiftnesse” and bloodhounds, whose powerful sense of smell drove them “through long lanes, crooked reaches, and weary ways” in pursuit of their prey.

But even the “mungrells” that occupied the bottom rungs of the canine social ladder were characterised in terms of their labour or status. For example as street performers, or turnspits in kitchens – running on wheels that turned roasting meat.

A dog with a spiked collar and a greyhound with a long leash from the Helmingham Herbal and Bestiary (c. 1500). Yale Centre for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection, CC BY-SA

The place of dogs in society changed when hunting became an aristocratic pastime, rather than a necessity. Simultaneously, dogs were welcomed inside noble homes – especially by women. In both cases, dogs were signifiers of elite social rank.

A miniature of Sir Lancelot, in conversation with a lady holding a small dog (c. 1315-1325). British LibraryOn the other hand, the story of St Roch in The Golden Legend, a popular 13th century collection of saints’ lives, tells of a dog who carried bread to a starving saint, then healed his wounds by licking them. One of Roch’s saintly attributes, a motif by which viewers can recognise him, is a devoted dog. The trope of dogs defending their owners or lamenting dead ones can be traced back to the classical period, to texts like Pliny the Elder’s Natural History. This theme is repeated in the medieval bestiary tradition, a moralising compendium of knowledge about animals both real and mythical. One common story tells of the legendary King Garamantes who, when captured by his enemies, is tracked down and rescued by his faithful dogs. Another tells of a dog who publicly identifies his master’s murderer and attacks him. The tale of one greyhound, Guinefort, even inspired an unofficial saint’s cult. Writing in the 13th century, Dominican inquisitor and preacher Stephen of Bourbon described a noble family who, falsely believing the dog to have killed their infant, killed Guinefort in retribution.

Detail of a miniature of King Garamantes, being rescued by his dogs, from the Rochester Bestiary ( c.1230). British Library

Upon discovering the child unharmed (the dog had really saved it from a venomous snake), they honoured the “martyred” canine with a proper burial, which led to its veneration and alleged healing miracles. Although Stephen’s story intended to reveal the sin and folly of superstition, it nonetheless underlines what medieval people perceived as the special qualities that distinguished dogs from other animals.

According to the Aberdeen Bestiary (c. 1200): “No creature is more intelligent than the dog, for dogs have more understanding than other animals; they alone recognise their names and love their masters.”

The association between dogs and loyalty is also expressed in the art of the period, including in relation to marriage. In tomb monuments, depictions of dogs indicate fidelity of a wife to the husband who lies beside her.

This effigy of a dog is part of Archbishop William Courtenay’s tomb in Trinity Chapel, Canterbury Cathedral. Author provided (no reuse)

In the case of clerical tombs, however, they may suggest the faith of the deceased, such as Archbishop William Courtenay (d. 1396), buried in Trinity Chapel, Canterbury Cathedral. Courtenay’s alabaster effigy reposes atop a tomb chest on the south side of the chapel. The archbishop wears the robes and mitre of his office, and two angels support his cushioned head. A long-eared dog wearing a belled collar lies obediently at his feet.

Although it’s tempting to wonder whether the dog depicted on Courtenay’s tomb may represent an actual pet owned by the archbishop, the belled collar was a popular convention of contemporary iconography, especially for lapdogs.