{"title":"Saving Stray Dogs: The Global Politics of Aid and Spectacle in the Ecuadorian Jungle","authors":"Karin Friederic, Jordan Buzzett, Gabby Valencia","doi":"10.1080/19428200.2021.2087446","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"The bond between humans and dogs. It’s the stuff that feel-good stories are made of, especially when we feel overwhelmed by news cycles about suffering, violence and division, both here and afar. So, when we hear a rescue story involving a fated friendship between a man and a dog, we grin, we share, we clamor for more. The tale of Arthur, an Ecuadorian “stray dog” saved and rescued to Sweden, is one such story that has captured the hearts of millions. And understandably so. It speaks to perseverance and sacrifice, the possibility of fate and the deep connection between people and their dogs. Having inspired the sale of thousands of books in many languages, two book sequels and a major motion picture due for release in late 2022, “Arthur,” the tale of a man’s best friend “who crossed a jungle to find a home” is, in part, an invention. It is also — as we argue — a story of saviorism that derives its power from the long arc of settler colonialism, white supremacy, and racialized forms of symbolic and structural violence.1 In late 2014, knowing that I, Karin, had strong links to Ecuador and that my family was Swedish, a friend sent me a news article about a stray Ecuadorian dog that had been adopted and transported to a new home in Sweden by an adventure racing athlete named Mikael Lindnord. I noticed that the story had been circulating en masse, hitting all of the major news venues, including The Guardian, The New York Times, Al Jazeera and Public Radio International. The outpouring of support was palpable. Enthusiasm flooded the usually sparse comment area on news articles about the dog. Instagram was similarly overwhelmed with photos of rescue dogs and their owners, all expressing love and support for Arthur, named by his rescuer Mikael Lindnord to honor King Arthur’s bravery. When I sat down to read an article about the dog who “adopted a team of Swedish trekkers in the Amazon,” the photo stopped me in my tracks.2 With my heart racing, I texted my friend: “Umm, I think I know this dog.” As it turns out, the trekkers were nowhere near the Amazon. Instead, they had","PeriodicalId":90439,"journal":{"name":"Anthropology now","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.0000,"publicationDate":"2021-09-02","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"0","resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":null,"PeriodicalName":"Anthropology now","FirstCategoryId":"1085","ListUrlMain":"https://doi.org/10.1080/19428200.2021.2087446","RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":null,"ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":null,"EPubDate":"","PubModel":"","JCR":"","JCRName":"","Score":null,"Total":0}
引用次数: 0
Abstract
The bond between humans and dogs. It’s the stuff that feel-good stories are made of, especially when we feel overwhelmed by news cycles about suffering, violence and division, both here and afar. So, when we hear a rescue story involving a fated friendship between a man and a dog, we grin, we share, we clamor for more. The tale of Arthur, an Ecuadorian “stray dog” saved and rescued to Sweden, is one such story that has captured the hearts of millions. And understandably so. It speaks to perseverance and sacrifice, the possibility of fate and the deep connection between people and their dogs. Having inspired the sale of thousands of books in many languages, two book sequels and a major motion picture due for release in late 2022, “Arthur,” the tale of a man’s best friend “who crossed a jungle to find a home” is, in part, an invention. It is also — as we argue — a story of saviorism that derives its power from the long arc of settler colonialism, white supremacy, and racialized forms of symbolic and structural violence.1 In late 2014, knowing that I, Karin, had strong links to Ecuador and that my family was Swedish, a friend sent me a news article about a stray Ecuadorian dog that had been adopted and transported to a new home in Sweden by an adventure racing athlete named Mikael Lindnord. I noticed that the story had been circulating en masse, hitting all of the major news venues, including The Guardian, The New York Times, Al Jazeera and Public Radio International. The outpouring of support was palpable. Enthusiasm flooded the usually sparse comment area on news articles about the dog. Instagram was similarly overwhelmed with photos of rescue dogs and their owners, all expressing love and support for Arthur, named by his rescuer Mikael Lindnord to honor King Arthur’s bravery. When I sat down to read an article about the dog who “adopted a team of Swedish trekkers in the Amazon,” the photo stopped me in my tracks.2 With my heart racing, I texted my friend: “Umm, I think I know this dog.” As it turns out, the trekkers were nowhere near the Amazon. Instead, they had