The first thought I had after finishing the very-enjoyable puppy-centric documentary Pick of the Litter (2018) was that its premise would make for a good basis of a Susan Orlean article, not just because she’s written so evocatively about dogs before but because of her yen for capturing with delightful detail and palpable affection people and organizations that dedicate themselves to causes and lines of work about which most might not normally think twice. 

Pick of the Litter, a little beige compared to Orlean’s hawk-eyed but idiosyncratically playful style of reporting, homes in on the efforts of Guide Dogs for the Blind, a California- and Oregon-based nonprofit that breeds puppies specifically to train them to do exactly what its name would suggest. Obviously not all of the mewling infants born in its facilities will get into the line of work for which they were brought into the world: the film notes in an intertitle that of the 800 dogs pushed out by Guide Dogs for the Blind’s menagerie of mothers, only about 300 actually reach the point where they can be carted off to a sightless or near-sightless owner. (Who, by the way, sometimes might have to wait a year before getting the pup they’ve applied for.) 

Pick of the Litter follows five prospective guide dogs — three Black labs, Patriot, Potomac, and Poppet, and two yellow labs, Phil and Primose — immediately after they’ve departed from the womb all the way through adulthood. Most will not achieve what they were meant to: Guide Dogs for the Blind is understandably strict, deciding a dog ought to be “career-changed,” as the in-house jargon goes, if they so much as walk a little faster if another dog trots not that far in front of them or if they don’t react fast enough if an inattentive driver isn’t paying close attention to the pedestrians they should be stopping for as they cross the sidewalk. (In that case, a flawed dog might be transferred to an organization whose training needs are less environmentally reactive, à la Dogs4Diabetics.) 

One of Pick of the Litter‘s canine subjects.

Being a guide dog for blind people is especially tricky when compared to other areas of need. They need to be sharp enough to understand that it’s OK, actually encouraged, to disobey an owner’s instincts if it could mean saving a life. It’s compelling to watch the various puppies go through the ultra-precise training process, which entails they be passed around to a couple of different handlers, or “puppy-raisers,” to hone their skills. It can be painful to see an otherwise perfectly great dog be marked not good enough for the slightest shortcoming, but you’re reminded that the decision is ultimately for the best once the good-to-go dogs are movingly introduced to their overjoyed new owners.

Almost to a fault, Pick of the Litter’s directors, Dana Nachman and Don Hardy, insist on keeping things feeling bright and chirpy; twinkling music plays nearly incessantly to make sure it retains a certain cheerfulness. I’m not sure there’s that much juicy drama to be gleaned from the narrative Nachman and Hardy uncovered during the filming window, but there remains a subtle feeling that they’re careful about avoiding any details that could make things too much of a bummer. They quickly move on from the deep disappointment one handler feels after her dog’s rehomed by the organization far earlier than she’d been led to believe; another trainer, a veteran, can only let on so much about the degree to which he’s struggled with PTSD. 

Those fleeting moments of turbulence gave rise to some curiosities that are never explored: whether there are certain internal politics at the organization that might be difficult to navigate for some people in its ecosystem and learning more about the people who spend so much of their time preparing the dogs they’ve gotten attached to for new owners. But these feel more like nitpicks than distracting faults in a documentary that’s equal parts fascinating and feel-good, taking the time-tested “man’s best friend” designation to the kinds of new heights that only underscore how much dogs are beacons of light in life. It’s hard to be confident about how other animals one might bring into the home feel about their existence. Pick of the Litter celebrates the sort of loving bond that feels like one of life’s surest things.