Around 2008, the Anglophone media noticed something interesting happening in Moscow. Dogs were taking the metro, purposefully riding up and down escalators, taking their place in train cars alongside human passengers, and disembarking at destinations where friendly food stall operators had snacks on offer. Anthropologist Alaina Lemon writes that this story of dogs and machines in Russia has deep roots.
Lemon writes that, like humans everywhere, Russians have always had a connection with dogs, and that bond has taken specific forms based on cultural and political change. During the early Soviet years of the 1920s, for example, authorities discouraged the breeding of “bourgeois” pets in favor of “working” breeds like boxers and shepherds.
For Americans, the best-known Russian dog is probably Laika, the canine cosmonaut who sadly died on a mission in 1957. (“Laika,” meaning “barker,” is actually the name of her breed, not the individual.) But, while American media emphasized the tragic sacrifice forced on the one-time stray, Russians are more likely to remember that other dogs were also early space travelers—and many of them returned from their missions to be hailed as heroes.
Back on Earth, Lemon writes, some Soviet researchers distinguished between “junkyard dogs” drawn to dumping grounds in industrial areas on the outskirts of cities—who formed packs and became dangerous to humans—and mostly friendly “street dogs,” who lived in urban centers near food vendors. As one ethologist wrote, “The closer to the centre, the nicer the dog.”
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Russians coined terms for street dogs, dump dogs, family dogs (who live indoors), and courtyard dogs (who sleep outside and are often fed by multiple families in their apartment block, returning the favor by barking to warn of intruders). A later addition to this roster was metro dogs—“MetroPes,” a play on MetroPress newspaper kiosks found in the subway stations.
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Metro dogs ride escalators, dash into cars just before the doors slide close, and sometimes charm human riders into giving up their seats so they can take a nap. The dogs generally prefer the central Circle Line, which is connected to the rest of the metro lines. They know which stations have food stands and which are warmest in the winter. Researchers have documented dogs commuting to specific stations and from there to nearby destinations where their human friends are ready to feed them.
Lemon writes that international media tends to depict the metro dogs as urbane, independent citizens who know how to stay calm and go about their business in a crowd. But she argues that many Muscovites, living in a culture still influenced by egalitarian Soviet ideals, see something different: fellow creatures navigating a social world of empathic humans willing to hold open a vestibule door or offer a tasty treat.
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