The Eyes Have It

“…Eyes: The eyes are almond-shaped (almost triangular), never full or bulgy, and are dark in color. Faults: Eyes round or bulgy or light in color …” So says the Afghan Hound standard. Not too complicated. Pretty specific. No room for misinterpretation. And yet …

After being active in this breed for about 60 years, I’m still curious. How, when, where and why was eye color in Afghans — and, as a matter of fact, in all dogs — determined? And for what reason? And by whom? Could it be, as per that old Persian proverb (and the title of my last article), that “It’s all the fault of the British”? Or does the answer lie within a broader search?

Recently I came across a staggeringly in-depth article on the subject of eye color that was published by the Royal Society Open Science (Dec. 20, 2023) that submits several studies offering information that was new — new to me, anyway. It may be to you, too. The detail was mind-boggling. But, after ploughing through it, I started to look at my breed (and other Sighthound breeds) with a decidedly new perspective. A new eye, if you will.

What I offer here is a (very) brief distillation of the studies, surveys and cross surveys that led the group to their conclusions. And at the risk of sounding too simplistic, I’ll stick my neck out and reduce the findings to what has to be an irreducible minimum.

Four words: People prefer dark eyes.

Why? The reasons are pretty much social and cultural. Dark eyes look less fierce. Less intimidating. Less predatory. Friendlier. Softer. Less confrontive. All those warm and fuzzy qualities we like in our animals. (Clearly, I exclude those breeds that commonly have blue eyes — Siberians, Border Collies, etc. — a result of specific chromosomal makeups as humans were doing their various breed creating.)

So, first go back and consider that the oldest domesticated animal (the dog, Canis familiaris) emerged from different varieties of wolf, Canis lupus, all of which had yellow eyes. (Keep in mind that to this day, so do feline-type predators such as tigers, lions, panthers, etc., as well as birds of prey.) Some part of me knew this from somewhere, but what can I say? It’s too much to expect the answer to come from my memory bank when the time frame is 15,000 to 50,000 years ago, give or take, which is where the root of the subject germinates.

Fast forward to the standards endorsed by the American Kennel Club, and you will see that about 70 or so of the 80 or so primary breeds specify or recommend dark eyes. Not a surprise. In humankind’s quest to develop breeds that could complete different tasks — work, sport, companionship, etc. — personal preference for an overall “look” prevailed when writing the breed standards. A part of that look is dark eyes. We like dark eyes.

Some “core” breeds do allow for variations: Saluki — “dark to hazel”; the Whippet is more detailed — "eye color can vary with coat color, but regardless of color dark eyes are always preferred. Light eyes are undesirable and yellow eyes are to be strictly penalized”; Scottish Deerhound — “should be dark, generally dark brown or hazel; a very light eye is not liked”; Borzoi — dark in color … never light …"; Ibizan Hound — "from clear amber to caramel”; Irish Wolfhound — one word: “dark” (although this characteristic is 16th on a list of 16 points in order of merit). These variations all suggest to me that the conclusion of the Royal Society is valid, and that eye color in Sighthound standards as specified was/is merely a matter of human preference. Nothing more.

If we apply the “form follows function” premise, the question is: If in all things anatomical, form follows function, then what function does a dark eye serve? Answer: Again — we like the way it looks.

But what do we find if we investigate how coursing hounds are preferred in their original native habitats, where they actually function in the way they were meant to? I can’t speak for all Sighthound breeds. But here’s what I know about some.

In the past (decades ago), I had the opportunity to have many conversations with Juliette de Bairacli Levy (of the famous Turkuman hounds). She was active and prominent in England when the original Afghan standard was written in the early 1900s and had firsthand knowledge of the back door give-and-take between those original importers/breeders who finalized what was — and what was not —included when the guidelines were officialized. “I’ll agree to this, if you’ll agree to that” kind of thing. At this point it was decided that eye color was to be: Dark.

However, as to this particular characteristic, Juliette emphasized in her lovely English accent (not unlike Dame Peggy Ashcroft’s), “The Afghan chieftains always prized the light-eyed hounds over the others. These were the keenest hunters. The look of eagles, you know. When it came to eye color and the English standard, dark was preferred by the majority, light was not. Period.” This clearly supports the social/cultural comfort zone premise.

Other references to eye color are close enough to Juliette’s information so as to be relevant. In a passage from Arrian’s Cynegeticus (D.B. Hull, 1964), he describes the eyes of the Celtic hounds, which were swift, determined coursing hounds. “Let their eyes be big, raised, clear, bright, astounding to the beholder. The best are the fiery-eyed and those with eyes flashing like lightning, like those of leopards, lions or lynxes. Second to these are the black-eyed …”

Also, I recently spotted part of an article posted on Facebook by Saluki breeder Gail Goodman, entitled “The Dog of the Desert.” There was no reference as to the author or date, but from the looks of the particular typeface and discoloration of the paper, it would seem to have been written somewhere in the 1920s or ’30s saying, “The breed possessing the most searching and penetrating eyesight is the Arabian saluki. In their native land these elegant, swift-footed hounds are used for hunting the gazelle. Their power of distant vision is comparable with that of the condor.  They can detect their sand-colored quarry miles away on the far rim of the desert, and it is interesting to note that their eyes are uncommonly pale, with a golden topaz tint in the iris … It is greatly to be hoped that no craze for darker eyes, or for exaggerated show points, will intervene to rob this most graceful and beautiful breed of any one of its distinguishing qualities.”

I also can recall a brief, but interesting, description — one of my favorites — penned by Kay Finch of the famous Crown Crest kennels. When commenting on one of her CC winners after an Afghan assignment in Australia, she noted in her critique, “lovely desert eyes.” My question for you, the reader: What color do you think they were?

Although eye color has never been at the very top of our priorities list, I have to admit that in Afghans, we (Mike and I) have always bred for dark eyes. It’s how we were schooled in the beginning. Light eyes always did, and still do, have a habit of showing up here and there, a recurrence which, in and of itself, stands as an indicator of what genetically exists in the breed going all the way back to when yellow eyes were, dare I say it, the rule rather than the exception. (Full disclosure: I personally find — after all these years — a yellow eye does, in fact, suggest an intriguing fierce quality. The color would seem to have a legitimate place in coursing breeds.) Although we did buy into the standard word for word, hook, line and sinker, to the best of our ability, it was eventually clear that different words have different meanings to different people (breeders, judges, etc.). In the real world, interpreting any standard has a lot to do with semantics. And personal esthetics. And lots of experience.

Over the years, with some introspection, perspectives can, and probably should, shift. Hopefully, expand. Desert dwellers have convictions about their coursing hounds — the ones we now deem our coursing hounds — that we might be wise to consider with more weight. As I have said many times, in my opinion the Afghan standard — and those of other Sighthounds as well — may reasonably go beyond the written word. Between the lines, if you will, with a more generous nod to the relevance of history and origins.

That which is unsaid is sometimes more powerful than that which is said. The same can be true for what is written (or spoken of) by notable breed figures that offer clarifications and/or embellishments of each breed standard — observations that coursing enthusiast Eddie Kominek designates as “vague and flowery.” Perhaps they are. But as I have said before, if your concept of a coursing hound revolves solely around a dead rabbit and/or a stopwatch, you’re missing an important piece of the puzzle. Aesthetics are critical to type in all breeds, and emanate from a place I think of as the breeds’ “ether” — one that I happily inhabit from time to time. I encourage you to do the same.

So, if the eyes have it, what exactly is IT? It may only be beauty in the eye of the beholder — or in the knowledge of the native hunter with his hound.