Colima dogs are among the oldest and most enigmatic canine images created in North America. Dog art provides an incomparable window into the continuity and diversity of cultural traditions, and artists of ancient Colima contributed one of the most powerful statements in this context.

Translated from the Nahuatl language, Colima’s name derives from a combination of colli meaning ancestors or gods, and maitl, meaning domain. For 25 centuries the region has nurtured a succession of cultures. Because of its remote location and lack of elaborate artifacts or monumental public works this western Mexican state did not attract interest from archeologists or researchers until recently.  Today Colima is renowned for its multitude of ancient shaft tombs and extraordinary dog ceramics.

Although Mesoamerican cultures produced pottery in abundance Colima’s redware ceramics are acknowledged for their singular quality and artistry. Their colour varies from deep mahogany to pale orange and the burnished surface is often mottled with a patina of manganese oxide. In addition to their distinctive color and finish, Colima pottery is instantly identifiable by its smooth contours, naturalism and eloquence. To a great extent this is due to the composition of Colima clays, which made them unsuitable for wheel-throwing techniques but ideal for handwork. This combination of methodology and material resulted in a style characterized by sensitive modeling and individualized figures. Colima artists created a wide variety of objects but they are most celebrated for perros cebados, squat, rotund dogs. Their short legs and rounded bodies contrast with alert pointed ears and sharply incised facial expressions.

These proportions may have a practical design element, making them less susceptible to breakage. Most have been unearthed from ritual burial sites but it is unknown whether they were created solely for this purpose. Some show signs of wear suggesting that they held food or drink for use in this life as well as the afterlife.

This cobby shape may have signified fertility, prosperity or the fact that dogs were fattened for consumption. Many Colima dogs carry ears of corn in their mouths. Maize was a staple food of this region for thousands of years. Testing has revealed that it was also a mainstay of the ancient Mesoamerican canine diet – and dog meat provided an essential source of protein for human inhabitants.

Despite stylistic conventions, Colima dogs accurately depict innumerable distinctive canine behaviors. The postures, gestures and expressions reveal careful observation, attention to detail and masterful technique rather than any attempt at mass production. Realistic forms predominate, but dogs are also portrayed in elaborate burial dioramas or mysteriously perched on the shoulders of priests or warriors.

The most recognizable motif is a pair of dancing or fighting dogs. Most Colima dogs are sleek and smooth but one member of this pair often exhibits deeply incised concentric lines on the face and body, delineated ribs and vertebrae, and a raised tail to symbolize hairlessness.

This mutation occurs regularly in all mammals and zoologist Glover Allen surmised that it first appeared in the Mesoamerican dog population 3500 years ago. By the time of European arrival, hairless dogs were prevalent throughout Mexico, Central America, the Southwestern U.S, the Caribbean and northern coastal regions Ecuador and Peru.

Hairless dogs and the custom of ritual burial with dog effigies influenced cultures far beyond western Mexico. A thousand years after Colima potters first modeled dog ceramics this influence appeared in Peru’s Moche pottery tradition. Colima and Ecuador’s Gulf of Guayaquil were probably the earliest points of contact between these cultures and indigenous populations of hairless dogs are still found in both locations.

A ceramic bottle dating from A.D. 750 represents the oldest Moche figure of a hairless dog. A 1500 year old dog burial effigy closely resembling Colima pottery has also been found in Tennessee, attributed to the Mississippi Culture Indians

Another recurring theme of Colima pottery is the sleeping dog, curled on its side. Ritually buried dogs excavated from Mesoamerican sites are also posed in this manner. Although this practice was obscure in comparison, dog remains have been recovered from nine human burial sites near Colima dating from A.D. 700- 1300. These 67 dog skeletons vary considerably in size and proportion, suggesting that this practice was not confined to a single culture or colony of dogs.

Although shaft tombs were widespread they cannot be attributed to a unified tradition based on the variations in size, shape and arrangement of tombs, and stylistic variations in artwork and architectural elements. Shaft tomb culture peaked between the Late Formative period (300 B.C.-200 A.D.) and Early Classic period (200-400 A.D.).

Only a fraction of western Mexico’s population commanded the resources for this elaborate burial. Tremendous manpower was required to dig shaft tombs three to 20 meters deep and stock the chambers with pottery representations of afterlife necessities like food, weapons, tools, and musical instruments. Regardless of lineage, location, or date, dog effigies remained a consistent feature of most shaft tomb burials. According to Maria Gomez de Ahumada of Colima’s Museum of History and Archeology, 75 to 90 percent of the tombs contained dog effigies

Possibly the most intriguing Colima dogs wear human masks. The mask is a common shamanistic device to invite spiritual possession. Evidence indicates that Mesoamerica’s earliest inhabitants brought both dogs and shamanism across the Bering Strait land bridge from Siberia. Shamans customarily utilize both art and animal spirit companions to traffic with the supernatural. And no animal is incorporated into these rituals more consistently than the dog. This was the first and most successfully domesticated species and the bond forged through millenniums of interdependence inevitably pervaded cultural perceptions.

Dogs possessing unique traits are often preferred for ritualistic purposes. Although the hairless mutation occurs regularly it rarely survives. In this case it provided an immediate survival advantage in the ecological niche of Mesoamerica. This may have contributed to the longstanding association of this trait with strength, health, and spiritual protection. Along with the role of spiritual intermediary, shamans functioned as protectors and healers. The Xoloitzcuintli, Mexico’s native hairless breed, is traditionally linked to both roles. Shamans move easily between earthly and supernatural realms but mortals required assistance and the dog’s primary spiritual function was to serve as a soul guide.

The use of dogs- especially hairless dogs, as spiritual guides became highly ritualized in later Mesoamerican cultures A thousand years later, the Aztecs perceived the Xoloitzcuintli as the physical manifestations of the god Xolotl, responsible for shepherding souls through nine levels of Mictlan in their quest for eternal rest crossing the subterranean river Apanoayan was a crucial part of the journey. Canine guides waiting on the riverbank would recognize their masters and guide them safely across. However, not every Xoloitzcuintli was equally reliable for this task. A black dog might refuse to help because it did not want its color to contaminate the purifying waters. A white dog might refuse fearing it would become soiled by the river. Only a red Xolo could be relied upon to ferry its master safely across to meet Mictiantecutli, the Lord of the Dead. This colour is still considered especially desirable in the Xoloitzcuintli due to its ancient association.  The basis of this Aztec belief is unknown but it may have originated with the ritual burial of redware ceramic dogs.

Colima culture left a massive legacy of shaft tombs and ceramics but no writings. Efforts to document Colima artifacts did not commence until the 1950s and the first major undisturbed shaft tomb was discovered at Huitzilapa, Jalisco, in 1993. For decades, looted artifacts without provenance provided the only information about this long extinct civilization. In the eyes of art collectors and archeologists, Colima pottery was dismissed as primitive and inconsequential. Consequently official excavations in the region did not begin until 1950. Long before that, the domain of the gods was legendary for its abundant dog ceramics. For centuries Colima pottery dogs were unearthed by home builders, farmers, amateur archeologists along with looters.

“The religious importance of western Mexican ceramics, now widely accepted, was not always understood. It is their secular, anecdotal quality versus their spiritual significance that has been the object of recent debate. For generations Mexican farmers had been unearthing ancient ceramic pots and sculptures while plowing their fields. Collectors disregarded them as clumsy and even comical. Because they had no monetary value on the black market, they were usually broken up and thrown away.” Precolumbian Art and the Cultural Thread by Shelly Couvrette”

In 1896, the Norwegian explorer Carl Lumholtz was the first researcher to recognize their importance and document them in his 1902 work, Unknown Mexico. Unfortunately he erroneously ascribed them to the much later Tarascan culture. Their actual antiquity and origin was not realized until decades later. In the 1930s contemporary Mexican artists were the first to embrace their aesthetic and cultural significance. Colima influences are obvious in the paintings and sculptures of artists such as Maria Izquierdo, Rufino Tamayo, Juan O’Gorman, and Ismael Vargas. Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo are primarily responsible for bringing Mexico’s ancient treasures to public attention. They were among the first collectors of ceramicas primitivas and breeders of Xoloitzcuintli. Colima pottery and hairless dogs graced the Blue House and figured in their work.

Their interest triggered a demand for Colima pottery among collectors and sparked an effort to save Mexico’s nearly extinct national breed. In 1954 British and Mexican dog experts searched remote villages of western Mexico to locate any remaining Xoloitzcuiltli. They discovered that remnants of the breed had been carefully protected and perpetuated for centuries.

Rivera's collection of Colima ceramics can be seen at the Anahuacali Museum and pedigrees of modern Xoloitzcuintli trace back to dogs he bred and owned. Both are now celebrated as icons of Mexican national pride.

It is dangerous to overplay conjectures between the past and present, but Colima’s contribution to modern civilization cannot be dismissed. This artistic legacy extended far beyond ancient or modern Mexico to illuminate man’s most enduring bond with another species.