Oh, exactly. There are dog people and then there are "dog" people. My dear 80-year-mother is clueless and constantly calls Gussy "her little collie dog." You go, mom.
I've been humbled many times myself although I like to think I'm breed savvy. The last time I went to the dog park, this humongous (and I mean humongous) dog runs up to Gus and me with his owner not far behind. At 5'6" I was overwhelmed.
"Lordy, what is he? A wolfhound of some sort, eh?"
"Yes! Irish wolfie he is. You know wolfies?"
"Hahahaha. Don't have a clue, but he's a beaut."
At the vet's office a few months ago, there was a small terrier of some sort. Not a Scottie, not a Cairn, definitely not a Westie. I'm wracking my brain. What is it?
Ready? Dandie Dinmont. OK, I ask you, how many of us has seen a DD?
Bottom line, most of us dog owners love to talk about our "kids." That's all that matters.