A WORD, PLEASE — pedigree continuity: Next, Professor Aubrey Vellum, with a bird that walked across a page and left something behind. the verdict: You've heard it said that a racehorse or a fancy puppy comes with a pedigree, and you nodded as if you knew exactly what that meant. Most of us do. But tucked inside that grand, important-sounding word is a footprint, a little muddy footprint, and once you see it you'll never unsee it. a word, please: Pedigree. A word, please. the crack: Go back about six hundred years, to England in the early fourteen hundreds, when the people in charge still spoke a kind of French. Clerks and heralds sat drawing family charts on parchment, showing who came from whom. To show a parent's children branching off, they drew a little mark with three lines fanning out from a single point. Now, if you'd ever watched a crane wading at the water's edge, that mark looked just like the print it leaves in soft mud: three long toes spreading out. So they called the mark pé de grue , which simply means 'crane's foot.' Say pé de grue often enough in busy English mouths, and it smooths itself into pedigree. the collision: The nickname for the little mark soon became the word for the whole chart. Then it became the word for the family on the chart, especially the grand, noble families who loved showing theirs off. Later it trotted over to animals, so today a pedigree is what makes a spaniel expensive. Some of that paperwork can feel like it costs more than the dog. Not bad for a bird's toe. By the fifteen hundreds, some people decided pedigree must come from French par degrés , meaning 'by degrees,' step by step down the generations. It's a tidy story, and it isn't true. The real one has feathers. the glimmer: And here's the part worth keeping: every family tree, however grand, is a bird's footprint standing in for a crowd of real, living people, and the footprint was never the bird. the exit: That's the word. Next time someone boasts about their pedigree, picture a crane, ankle-deep in mud, looking thoroughly unimpressed.