MIAMI BEACH: A Lilliputian Australian terrier showed up in our neighborhood park a few weeks ago, carrying a tennis ball as big as his head and going nose to nose with dogs 10 times his size. He is but the latest arrival in a mini-invasion of small dogs, weighing less than 20 pounds - Cavalier King Charles spaniels, Chihuahuas, Italian greyhounds and pocket-size terriers foremost among them.
Nor is our park unique. In 2006 the diminutive Yorkshire terrier nosed the golden retriever out of second place on the American Kennel Club's list of most popular breeds, behind the Labrador retriever.
Large dogs still lead by a wide margin, but led by toy breeds, the smallest of the small, little dogs are gaining ground. Medium-sized dogs, 30 to 60 pounds, like an English springer spaniel or a vizsla, are being squeezed out.
I knew more than faddism was involved when a friend, a large-dog person, sheepishly confessed that her next dog would be on the little size of small. But, she assured me, she would raise it and treat it like a dog, not a fragile darling that would topple at the first hint of a breeze.
For having stated my fondness for medium to large dogs and criticized breeding practices that have produced unhealthy mutants, especially among toy breeds, I have been both praised and pilloried.
Nonetheless, I embrace the changing dog demographics. They present a welcome opportunity to bury old stereotypes and restore small dogs to their rightful place in canine history.
A major boost in this effort has come from a recent article in the journal Science written by a team of scientists saying that a tiny bit of DNA that suppresses the "insulin-like growth factor 1" gene is responsible for smallness in dogs. (In fact, the gene is involved in determining body size across many mammalian species, if not all, but that's a different story.)
This single variation is ancient enough to support the theory, to which I have long subscribed, that the earliest division among dogs was between large ones and small ones.
The finding appears to counter theories that size in dogs is the product of complex biological processes involving multiple genes. It also appears to undermine the popular notion that the dog, especially the toy dog, is a juvenilized, or "neotenous," derivative of the wolf, reduced in size, diminished in physical and mental capacity.
Instead, it looks as if early in the dog's history - about 15,000 years ago - humans captured through breeding a particular variation in the code for a single gene that produced small dogs that retained essential dog behaviors and characteristics.
Small dogs have proved their mettle throughout history - turning mills and spits, pursuing game into its den; destroying rats by the bucketful, serving as foot warmers, and standing guard over home and hearth, just as the big dog patrolled the yard.
And, of course, they have been pure companions, like the ancient Chinese sleeve dogs. By the late 19th century, the wealthy sought to breed ever smaller, softer and more doll-like dogs.
Expensive, difficult to breed and maintain because of their size, often freakish in appearance, they were one of the commodities Thorstein Veblen had in mind when he coined the phrase "objects of conspicuous consumption."
As if another species, these little companion creatures became known as "women's pets," compared with "men's dogs" - working terriers, hounds, sporting dogs, Great Danes and other large breeds. It is that stigma I would hope to dispel.
Dog breeds still suffer the whims of fashion, but many people appear to be opting for small dogs because they live in crowded cities, and because they can carry them on a plane. They also want an energetic, active dog.
As long as they are free of debilitating genetic defects, small dogs retain the spirit and behavior of, well, the dog. They retrieve, fight, bite, run, hunt and play within their physical and psychological abilities.
Not all will end up as a narcotics detection dog, like Midge, a six-pound Chihuahua and rat terrier mix in Ohio. But all will surprise.