Above: A painting of Pterodactyl (the red dachshund) and Jackdaw (black and tan) by Jack Wardell
You gotta love an unusual pet name, and ‘Pterodactyl’ is a corker. I came across the name recently when researching dogs in some 19th-century newspapers. It turns out the Pterodactyl in question was a dachshund, and the 19th-century equivalent of an influencer. So who was Pterodactyl and why was he famous?
Known as ‘Ptero’ to friends and family (I can’t help but wonder if this wasn’t wordplay on ‘Terror’, this dachshund was considered one of the finest, most handsome examples of the dachshund breed. He was born in 1888 and so beloved, that his unexpected death in 1897 at the age of 9, was reported in the newspapers with much sadness.
Above: A drawing of Pterodactyl from the Penny Illustrated Paper: 27 March 1897
Pterodactyl was a red, short-haired dachshund of what would be referred to today as a ‘standard’ (rather than miniature) size. Owned by Mr Sydney Woodiwass, the dog had a career ‘on the bench’ as a showdog and then at stud. From his first outing at the Crystal Palace, where he won third place, he never looked back. Ptero won major show after major show and praise heaped on his head. He was described as ‘the most perfect specimen’ and was generous in passing his good looks down to his progeny. The pups he sired also went on to be acclaimed show winners, with such names as Primula and Belle Blonde to keep his legacy going.
But more than a handsome showdog, Pterodacytl was described as an all-rounder in that he had looks, personality, and a work ethic. He was not averse to getting his paws dirty and loved to go hunting. Mr Woodiwass proudly described Ptero as having “the nose of a bloodhound…the endurance of a beagle…the sagacity of a collie.” That’s quite some plaudit! But as if that wasn’t enough, Pterodacytl was devoted to his owner.
As story reported in the press after Ptero’s sad demise told of the time when Mr Woodiwass travelled abroad and left his dog behind. Ptero was inconsolable and refused to be comforted. He wandered around the house and gardens, looking for his missing owner. It was only when Pterodactyl discovered an old suit of Mr W’s and made a bed on it, did the poor creature gain some measure of reassurance. And when a month later Mr W returned, their reunion was described as ‘touching’.
At the age of nine, Ptero passed away prematurely and his death was a surprise. Somewhat bizarrely to modern tastes, Mr Woodiwass donated Ptero’s body to the Derby Museum, which still has his skeleton in a glass display cabinet. But a happier thought is Pterodactyl’s legacy and the influence his bloodline played on the development of the modern dachshund – a doggy influencer indeed!
