So the Bulenese want the Bali Dog and the Balinese want the breed dog. On the surface of things it would appear to be a simple transference of preference in regard to new and old. However nothing is ever simple when it comes to what resonates in the human psyche.
For those foreigners who get hooked on Island Bali, the Bali Dog appears to represent a direct embodiment of that initial full blown waft of welcoming incense, mixed in with rhythmic gamelan tones, all of it wrapped up in an ancient four legged feral friend. It really is that simple for those of that ilk, those crazy connected souls who feel the pull of a humid homeland, a coming home belief that maybe they were of some Eastern lineage in a previous incarnation. A tiredness of first world glam and sham appears to create a yearning for a hairless and furless developing world reality, maybe.
For the Balinese it would appear to be even simpler, having lived for millennia with the ancient and ordered ways, glam and sham land have been welcomed, voraciously wanted and needed. Foreign breed dogs are the inevitable extension of everything beautiful and valuable, of course. A mangy street mutt is no competition to an exotic Siberian Husky, a barking beast is not nearly as endearing as a pampered Pomeranian and a rabies ridden rat catcher is no match for a luscious Labradoodle.
So, as preference and understanding collide, as culture and upbringing face off and as opposing mentalities merge, there appears to be little negotiation between the psychology of new and old.