So I’m a dog breed geek, OK? When I was a kid, I had a book on dog breeds and I read it over and over until I memorized it.
Normally, if you describe a dog, I can tell you the breed, and I’m right most of the time.
So I ofc had to look this up and read more about it. I was aware of the concept of using dogs to keep the rotisserie running before electricity, but I didn’t know that much about the breed itself, so I decided to do a little research.
The Canis vertigus, or turnspit, was an essential part of every large kitchen in Britain in the 16th century.
In fact, the breed was even mentioned in the first book on dog breeds (in English). They were used from the late 1500s into the 1900s, and eventually went extinct.
They were “mutts,” small dogs with long bodies and short legs who could fit in the wheels that turned the spits to ensure the meat cooked evenly.
There is a taxidermied specimen of the breed (a dog named Whiskey) that looks a lot like the dog Sebastian is holding in the ch 178 cover:
Turnspit dogs were viewed as kitchen utensils, as pieces of machinery rather than as dogs.
The roar of the fire. The clanking of the spit. The patter from the little dog's feet. The wheels were put up quite high on the wall, far from the fire in order for the dogs not to overheat and faint.
To train the dog to run faster, a glowing coal was thrown into the wheel.
They were given Sundays “off” to accompany the household to church, but they still had a job: a foot warmer.
Apparently, part of why they went extinct when their jobs disappeared was no one wanted to keep them as pets:
They were ugly little dogs with a quite morose disposition.
Not that Bard is ugly, but the morose disposition does kinda fit. Not to mention how Sebastian sees him—a lowly mongrel he can use as a tool if he’s able to train him just right.
(Thanks again to @black69canine for pointing the turnspit dog thing out.)
