My Quest to Make My Dog Internet Famous
W hen we spotted the one-year-old blonde mutt, on page two of a Kijiji search for dog adoptions, we had no plans to transform her into an internet celebrity. My partner, Arielle, and I had been searching for the next member of our family, and we found the fourteen-pound, one-eyed dachshund mix after scrolling far past the catchy ads for fresh litters of puppies. The Toronto-area rescue that housed her told us we were the first to express interest. We adopted her within the week.
Belle, as we named her, was even cuter in person: her ears flopped in the wind, her face was stuck in an adorable perma-wink, and elevators confused her. Soon, every quirky move she made had us posting pictures of her on our Instagram accounts. Surely, we thought, our friends and family would love her just as much as we did. When it felt like our accounts were flooded with Belle photos, we created her own account, @1eyedbelle, a dedicated space for those interested in our pup’s day-to-day life.
I’d come across many pets in my feed—some with modest followings, others more famous than certain world leaders and bestselling artists. Doug the Pug, a Nashville-based dog, for example, has more Instagram followers than Justin Trudeau and almost as many as Céline Dion. Videos of Maru, Japan’s YouTube-famous cat, have been collectively viewed more than 450 million times, and Pumpkin the Raccoon, who was rescued by a family in the Bahamas after breaking her leg, even got a book deal.
