CONTENTS
PART IV | ||
| chap. | page | |
| XVI. | Something About Foreign Dogs | [291] |
| XVII. | Humours and Vagaries of the Show Rings | [311] |
| XVIII. to XXIII. | Anecdotes About Dogs, Personal and Selected | [322] |
| XXIV. | A Few Words About General Management and Some Simple Maladies, to Which Dogs are Subject and Their Treatment | [389] |
CHAPTER XVI
Something About Foreign Dogs
I think, perhaps, it will be best for me to say something about these, although my friend, Mr. Edwin Brough, was wont to call them by the generic term of "Wild Beasts," particularly those belonging to our mutual friend, Mr. W. K. Taunton, who for very many years had one of the best collections of rare breeds of foreign dogs, I should say, to be met with in Europe, comprising specimens from the Arctic Regions, China, Australia, India, Africa and other distant parts of the world. I have often had specimens of his before me at different shows, particularly those held in the London District, and remember paying a visit, by invitation, some years since to his kennels in Essex and being very much interested in the many typical specimens I saw there. I should consider Mr. Taunton not only a first-rate judge of bloodhounds and mastiffs, but (although one of the most unassuming men I know) far and away, the ablest and best judge of "Foreign Dogs" in this country, or probably in any other. He has bred and owned more than most other judges have even seen!
NORWEGIAN ELKHOUND "JAEGER" LADY CATHCART OWNER.
The Norwegian Elk-Hound.—One of the kinds most often kept is the Norwegian Elk-Hound, which much resembles the Esquimaux, but differs in character of coat, ears and tail. He should be active in build, though strongly made, particularly in the shoulders; fairly long wedge-shaped head; rather strong and blunt shaped jaws; thick coat, with plenty of undercoat, in varying shades of dark and light grey, back parts being darker and under parts lighter and sometimes slightly tanned; good round feet, with legs strong, firm and straight, ears much larger and differently carried from the Esquimaux, both upright and pointed; tail profusely covered with hair, and carried with a double twist to the side, rather inclined to be wolf-like in expression, with dark brown eyes.
AFGHAN GREYHOUND "SHAHZADA" J. WHITBREAD OWNER.
The Persian Greyhound is another of the "Foreigners" sometimes met with, and is a very elegant creature if shown in good form, about the size of a medium-sized greyhound, with soft feathery fringe on head and ears, thighs, tail and elsewhere, which gives a very unique appearance to it, the colours most often seen are shades of fawn, or drab, and from the extra hair upon it they seem to be shorter and stronger in head than the British greyhounds. There is a variety called the Afghan Greyhounds, which greatly resemble the Persians even in colours, except that all the specimens I have had before me of the latter have been considerably less, more like large Whippets in size. I am not prepared to say whether there is any, or if so what, connection between the two breeds.
The African Sand Dog is another breed occasionally seen; it is remarkable for being almost entirely without hair, usually a sort of blue black in colour, and sometimes having a tuft of coarse bristle-like hair on the top of the head, and a similar tuft of the same colour and character at the end of the tail. In shape and appearance they slightly resemble a fat, and rather coarse, both in head and body, black and tan terrier; they, no doubt, have their admirers, or they would not continue to be imported and kept, but they are essentially one of the breeds that may be described as "not everybody's money."
THIBET SHEEP DOG "SIRING" H. R. H. PRINCE of WALES OWNER.
Thibet Sheep Dogs.—A breed I have not often seen, but which is really a handsome and noble looking one is the Great Thibet Sheep Dog, of which I remember H. R. H. the Prince of Wales had a good specimen at Sandringham some years since, which I can only describe as having a Collie-like body with a thick under and over coat, but not so profuse as with our collies, and a head combining the expression of Newfoundland, Mastiff and Bloodhound, large, pendulous ears, heavy lips and jaws, and great dignity, and even ferocity in appearance. From the rough life they live, with very rough people, I have heard from those who have travelled in Thibet, these dogs are very awkward customers to tackle, and often make things very unpleasant for travellers and strangers, but I have no doubt they would make excellent guards, and have a very distinguished appearance as companions.
Afghan Sheep Dog.—Another eastern breed is the Afghan Sheep Dog, which, in the specimens I have seen greatly resembles our own breed of English Short-tailed Sheep Dog, and like him, is covered all over with a dense, shaggy coat. It seemed to me, they were somewhat more woolly in texture and corded in character than the coats of our dogs, and also they were leggier and more tucked up, so that, although they stand as high, or higher, I should say they would weigh considerably less on the average than our own "Bobtails." Their colours appear to be usually white, with brown or black markings, more or less profusely scattered over the bodies.
ESQUIMAUX CH. "ARCTIC KING" Mrs H. C. BROOKE OWNER.
Esquimaux.—The Esquimaux is another of the foreign breeds occasionally seen here, rather larger and heavier than the Chow, and longer in head and neck, generally some shade of grey or black and white in colour with a harsh outer, but dense warm under coat, rather long and arched in neck, eyes obliquely set, small for size of dog, and very sly and wolf-like in expression, with pricked ears carried rather forward and tail curled over back. In the general way, they are not very fascinating to strangers, and may be spoken of in the same terms as the hero of a popular comic song who was said to be "all right, when you know him, but you've got to know him, first!" No doubt, the number of expeditions to the Arctic regions of late years, and the keen public interest taken in all their details, has had the effect of bringing these dogs, so important to all Arctic explorers, more to the front. There is a quaint, independent air about them I rather like. I have very frequently had to judge them in classes of "foreign dogs from the Arctic and Northern regions," and should not describe them as very genial, or sociable, in manner, although somewhat unique and interesting in appearance.
CHOW CHOW. CH. "CHOW VIII". Mrs FABER OWNER.
Chow.—Another breed which is not without its supporters, many of whom are amongst the ranks of the aristocracy, is the Chow, which, as the name implies, is a native of China, and much resembles a large, coarse Pomeranian, with a short thick head and rather blunt prick ears, the colours are almost invariably shades of red, black, or slate blue, though I have seen some variations on these. Chows often are as large as small collies, and possess very warm dense coats, somewhat in the Esquimaux style, and carry their tails much the same way, and are remarkable for having nearly inky black tongues. Like many of these foreign breeds, they are hardly yet naturalised in this country, but they are handsome, distinguished-looking dogs and not unlikely to become more popular, as they become more understood. At present they are in very few hands, and are more often met with at shows in the "any other variety" or "Foreign, any variety," classes, than in a class or classes to themselves, but at some of the larger shows, I have frequently had good entries of them, containing many beautiful specimens of the breed.
SHOW POINTS OF CHOWS
The points of Chows are as follows: Skull flat and wide, muzzle substantial under the eyes, of fair length and rather blunt at the nose, tongue and lips black, eyes dark and small, ears very small, pointed, carried erect and forward; neck powerful and slightly arched, shoulders muscular and nicely sloped, chest wide and deep, body short and powerful with strong loins; fore-legs strong and straight with small round feet, hindquarters rather square with hindquarters well let down, tail tightly curled over back, coat very profuse, flat and rather coarse in texture. Colours most usually black or red; yellow, blue and white, if strictly self colours, are correct. Weight, dogs forty to fifty pounds; bitches a little less.
AUSTRALIAN DINGO CH. "MYALL" Mrs H. C. BROOKE OWNER.
The Dingo.—Another colonial breed, the Dingo or Wild Dog of Australia, many of us have heard of but few seen. As I happen to have a brother, a clergyman, in that country, whose parish is forty miles square, taking him the best part of each week to visit his parishioners on horseback or in buggy, also three nephews, sons of another brother, likewise a clergyman in England, all situated in different parts of the same colony, I have heard a great deal of the doings of the "Dingoes." They are very particular in their attentions to the poultry, lambs, and sometimes sheep, so that they do not bear a good name in that country! They are a good deal like jackals, but rather larger in size, and coats sleeker, and tails less feathered, less mane on shoulders, and perhaps somewhat finer in head, quite a sly, wolf-like expression, not often very safe to handle; colours usually shades of yellow, or sandy, but I have seen them shades of brown, and grey mixed, rather fox-like in bark; they are usually kept as curiosities of the canine race, frequently muzzled or "caged," but as they get more used to civilised life, they may develop more interesting qualities than they have yet been credited with.
CHINESE CRESTED DOG "CHINESE EMPEROR" W. K. TAUNTON OWNER.
The Chinese Crested Dog.—I think I will bring this brief notice of some of the "outlandish" breeds to a close, with a mention of what I think is rather a rare sort, the Chinese Crested Dog, as, although I have judged Foreign Dogs at all the leading shows during a great many years, I have had very few true specimens of this scarce breed brought before me. I am pleased to have been able to secure a good portrait of the best I have ever seen, by the courtesy of its owner. I have generally found them with a smooth mottled skin quite devoid of hair, except a crest, or tuft of stiffish hair on the forehead or above it, usually nearly white or whitey brown in colour, and a tuft of similar colour and character at the end of the tail. Round skull, well defined "stop," and rather short, mean face, in shape and style of body something like a coarse strong Italian greyhound, and nearly always giving you the idea of being pinched with the cold. From what little I have seen of them, I should consider them, rather delicate, and unsuited for our climate, except under favourable circumstances. I imagine they are merely kept as companions and pets, as I never heard of any of them being turned to account for any useful purpose. I am aware there are several other breeds I might have included in this chapter, such as the Samoyede Sledge dogs, (a capital portrait of this breed is here given) the Pyrennean Sheep Dog; the Leonberg Dog, The Dogue de Bordeaux, a capital portrait of a very fine specimen of which is also given, and which has a great deal the character of a high-class Bull Mastiff about it, and has been largely used on the Continent in fighting the bear and other large game; and others, but I think I have said enough to comply with its title of "Something About Foreign Dogs!"
LAPLAND-SLEDGE-DOG "PERLA". H. R. H. PRINCE OF WALES. OWNER.
DOGUE DE BORDEAUX. CH. "SANS-PEUR". (Late) Mrs H. C. BROOKE OWNER.
CHAPTER XVII
Humours and Vagaries of the Show-Rings
I remember meeting a friend, many years since, whose wife was rather a fine woman, who had been younger and better looking, but still "fancied herself" a good deal, and had a decent Pug, which she made a point of taking to any shows held in their neighbourhood, and as I knew he had entered the Pug in two or three classes at a local show where a reverend gentleman, at that time very well known as an "all round judge," at many shows throughout the kingdom, was officiating, I said, "Well, old fellow, and how did your wife get on with her Pug?" "Oh, very badly," said he, "there was a smart looking girl, with pink roses in her hat, had a dog in the ring, and the judge couldn't look at anything else, although our Pug was ever so much better!"
As I happened to hear, casually, that another reverend judge, who had been not only a very successful breeder and exhibitor, but one of our ablest judges, particularly of the non-sporting breeds, was about to decline further judging, I considered, especially at that time, when there were few judges of ability and standing, that he could be ill spared, so I wrote to ask him, if I obtained a strong expression of opinion from some of the leading exhibitors in his section, whether he would reconsider the matter, and he wrote me a very courteous letter, agreeing to do so. I then had a fac-simile letter, of my writing, prepared, and sent a copy to all the leading breeders and exhibitors of non-sporting dogs, and I do not think I had one refusal. I doubt if any judge ever had such a requisition, and the result was, that for many years, the public had the benefit of his valuable services, until, I regret to say, ill health compelled him to give up all such matters, but he retained his popularity to the last, and his retirement was universally regretted. I have often met him since as a looker on at shows, and we have occasionally corresponded.
As I have mentioned in the earlier pages of this work, for many years I was a very keen breeder and exhibitor of Dandies, and kept a great many of them at one time, perhaps the strongest kennel of the breed in the kingdom, and won scores of prizes, etc. I remember, on one occasion, when I had a team of dogs at a show in Gloucestershire, I had one of my best Dandies entered either in a "Rough Terrier Class," or a class composed of "Winners of so many Prizes" (in those days, all sorts of peculiar classes and conditions were introduced into the schedules), and there
were two judges to officiate, neither of whom, I very much expect, had ever had a Dandie before him previously. I was, at first, much amused to see how they were puzzled over him, and I could see them taking counsel together (I may say, they were men of the highest class, as straight as gun barrels, and both deservedly respected and esteemed by the whole kennel world, one amongst sporting, the other among non-sporting classes, but as I hope and believe they are both still living I will not mention their names, although I have told the tale to one of them to his intense amusement and delight). But afterwards, I began to fear they would, from not being sure what manner of animal I had in tow, pass me over, or worse still, give some inferior notice to my dog, who was a noted champion, and about the best specimen of the breed at that time. After a while they came back to me and made a more detailed examination of my dog, asked me his number, and awarded him First Prize and Special, to my great relief, as I had been thinking what a fool I had been to enter a "Champion," to have such a chance of a "knock-back" at a county show!
Sometime after that, I was taking a short exhibiting tour, with a team of my dogs, following three or four shows, held close together, and not more than one or two days each in duration. Amongst others I had an excellent Dandie Bitch with me, who had never been "out of the money," and was in excellent form at the time. I showed her at one place (Reading, I fancy,) and took first under the Rev. W. I. Mellor. The next show was, I think, Swindon; there I met almost the same lot of Dandies, this time under the late Mr. W. Lort, who, after he had looked through the class, came up to me and said, "I am sorry to say, Mr. Lane, I cannot give you more than 'Very Highly Commended,' for your Bitch." I replied, "In that case, sir, I shall be greatly obliged by your passing her over altogether; she took first prize yesterday in the same company under Mr. Mellor, who is reckoned one of our leading Dandie judges, and I am going to show her under him to-morrow at Henley (I think it was) where I have every hope she will do the same, so that I should not like her to take 'V. H. C.' for the first time in her life in between." So the bitch was passed over and duly won another first prize the next day.
The first time I had the honor of judging any dogs belonging to members of the Royal Family was many years since at Warwick, where, I believe, H. R. H. the Prince of Wales exhibited, for the first time, Skyes, and foreign dogs. He may have shown others, also, but those were the classes with which I was concerned. I remember the Committee and Chairman of the show were, quite properly, much impressed with the honour of the Royal patronage to their show at that time, nearly or quite the best held out of London and admirably managed by a well organised and most capable and courteous committee of "real workers," whom it was always a pleasure to meet. As I judged, or showed, at all their shows, I can speak from experience; and I may further say that I consider it a positive calamity for the kennel world when these shows came to an end. For, not only were they most delightful gatherings, of the "Flower of the Fancy," both dogs, and people, but, held in well adapted buildings and premises, near the quaint old Midland Town, almost under the shadow of the historic castle and under the active patronage of the late Earl of Warwick, and the present Earl, then Lord Brooke (both able and devoted "Dog Fanciers") and his beautiful wife, who always used to grace the shows by her presence, and took a keen interest in many of the animals shown, besides being an exhibitor in some of the classes. The Chairman intimated to me that the inmates of the Royal Kennel should stand well in the Prize List. I told him "every dog entered would be judged by me strictly on its merits, and if it was afterwards found the Royal Dogs were amongst the Prize Winners, none would be more pleased than I should, but I could not say or do more than that, and I was sure H. R. H. would wish his dogs to stand, or fall, on their merits alone!" Since then I have very often had the honour of judging dogs from the Royal Kennels, both Sandringham and Windsor.
I remember it so happened that the first time Her Majesty the Queen exhibited any dogs, nearly all Her Majesty's entries came into my classes at a Great London show. Soon after my entering the building I went to have a look at my classes, and shortly afterwards, the secretary came up to me and said, "Do you know you have the great honour of being the first man to judge any dogs from Her Majesty's kennels?" I said, "I have heard so." He then said, "Well, I am most anxious they should all be in the prize list, as I consider it a high honour that Her Majesty has allowed them to be entered." I said, "That is all right enough, but although I will not admit Her Majesty has a more loyal or devoted subject than myself, I am here in a public capacity as a judge, and if Her Majesty's dogs are entered, in competition with Her Majesty's subjects' dogs, they can only be judged 'on their merits,' and from what I can see on the benches as the Royal dogs have been pointed out to me by your keepers I don't think many of them will be 'in the money,' as the classes are very large and good." He said, "That will never do; what can be done?" I said, "Will you leave it to me?" He said, "Yes, entirely." I said, "Then I will have all the dogs of the same colour and type as those from the Royal kennels, formed into a separate class," (which luckily, was feasible,) "and judged together." This was done and I hope caused general satisfaction, which would not have been the case had any partiality been shown, nor would such have been approved by Her Majesty, I am perfectly sure, if the circumstances came to be known at the palace.
On one occasion when I had been judging a number of classes at a large London show, after I had done, one of the fair exhibitors came up to me and said, "You don't seem to like my dogs." I said, "If you will tell me the numbers of your dogs I will refer to my judging book, and see what notes I made of them." She gave the numbers, and I read out the notes on each. But this did not satisfy her, and she said, "Ah! I am only a poor widow, if I were only a rich heiress, like ——, I suppose it would be different, she can win any number of prizes with her dogs." I replied, "You have no right to speak in that way to me, neither you nor any other exhibitor can say I have ever made any distinction between rich and poor. I have always sought to judge the dogs alone, irrespective of their owners; if the dogs of the person you mention have won it is because they were, in my opinion, the best." She said no more, nor did I, but I presume she thought I spoke the truth, as I have often noticed her as an exhibitor in my classes, at various shows since, and it is not reasonable to suppose she would continue to show under me, if she thought I favoured any one!
Indeed, there are so many "lookers-on" round every ring, nowadays who understand the various breeds, and are prepared to criticise the awards, that judges are "put upon their mettle," particularly with some of the popular breeds, where the competition is often very keen, and the entries large.
Some years since, at a large show in Wales I had a large and good class of Bedlington Terriers, but there was one dog that stood out, head and shoulders above the rest; it chanced that I began my examination of each specimen in the class, which I always endeavour to make, and a short note of the result in my book, at the dog standing next to him in the ring, and therefore he was the last to be looked at, and merely going over him enough to see that his coat, condition, topknot, legs, eyes, teeth and ears, were satisfactory, I sent them for a run round, marked my book and dismissed the class; while I was waiting for the next lot of dogs a very melancholy-looking man crept up to me and said, "Would you kindly tell me, sir, what you gave my dog?" I asked his number, and when he told me, said, "First and special for best in the show;" he threw his hat up in the air, and roared out, "Well, I'm blessed, I knowed he knowed 'em, he didn't hardly want to look at my dog, he didn't, he could see he were the best with half an eye, he could," and, from being a solemn and sad-looking person, he became the most jovial-looking fellow you could wish to see. I did not know his name, and do not know it now, but he amused me very much at the time!
I do not remember where it occurred, but I was judging rather a good class of Scottish Terriers somewhere in the provinces, and a keeper brought in a dog I liked the look of, and after going over the classes I marked him first, and told the keeper to take him away and bench him, which I suppose he did. You can imagine my surprise when shortly after, the same dog made his appearance in the ring again, this time led by a man I knew well as rather an extensive exhibitor, at that time, and he began "making the most of his dog" before me. But as I had quite done with him, and had still some of my awards in the class to make, I did not want that, so I said, "I should take away that dog, and bench him if I were you, as he has been judged and sent out sometime since." The exhibitor in question, whom his worst enemy would not describe as either shy or timid, was unusually rapid in his departure from that ring, and I have since heard the story from others, to whom I suppose he told it, but I have never told it until now!
I have had such a long and varied experience of judging, that although I have often and often had classes large enough and strong enough to make one "pull one's self together," I never remember being really "nonplussed," but once, and that was when I was judging some years ago at the People's Palace, situated in the East End of London. I presume, the "drawers up" of the schedule had not been previously experienced in such work, as amongst others, they had provided a "Variety Class for London Exhibitors," and, if obtaining entries is a criterion of success, it was very successful, as they obtained no less than 145 entries. I do not know, but I should think, it was the largest class ever seen at any show! And when I saw the tens and scores of dogs pouring into my ring, I wondered what was to become of them, as it was a good walk merely to go round them, and they formed a small dog show by themselves, and I noticed about five or six well-known "Champions" amongst them, as it included most of the known breeds of dogs. After referring to my judging book, many pages in which were of course taken up, I found I had three prizes to divide amongst this crowd, so I went to the committee, and explained the matter to them. They behaved very well indeed, they said, "We will leave the matter entirely to you, do whatever you please in it." I went back, divided the class into over thirty pounds and under thirty pounds, cleared out all that was no good, and weeded down the remainder, and eventually gave two equal firsts, two equal seconds, and two equal thirds in each division, making twelve prizes and two "reserves" in all, which was a lot better than attempting to award three prizes amongst close on 150 dogs. I think the exhibitors were pleased, and felt I had done the best in my power to get them and myself out of an awkward position.
Many of my readers will remember Mr. George Helliwell, better known to his intimates as "Yorkshire George," and his long connection with the late Mr. Fletcher's successful kennel of sporting dogs. It was always a safe "draw" to touch on the merits of the Fox Terrier "Rattler," who won many of his numerous honours, when in George's care, and he was never tired, and would be nearly moved to tears in recounting his virtues and triumphs. I remember one occasion, when he was officiating as a judge, in which capacity he was in great request, and highly qualified. After he had judged a class, one of the exhibitors, who was not satisfied with what he had awarded to his dog, went up and asked him why he had not given him more, saying his dog "had a wonderful pedigree," and thought he ought to have beaten all there. George said, in his own peculiar way, slapping his inquirer gently on the back, "If tha' tak my advice, lad, the next toime ther' goes to show, thou'll tak thy dog's pedigree wi thee, and leave dog at 'oom!" I fear my writing of the matter does not properly convey the intense humour of the incident, and the "broad Yorkshire dialect" in which the advice was given! But "George's" many friends will picture it for themselves.
I saw in the papers lately the death of Mr. Frank Adcock, and it brought to my mind not only his craze for Giant Bull Dogs, which is well known to "the Fancy" of his day, but also his Great Dane "Satan," most appropriately named, as he rightly or wrongly enjoyed the reputation of being the most savage member of the canine race ever benched at shows. I remember him as a very large, I think, dark Harlequin-coloured specimen of the breed, always muzzled, even on the bench, and it usually required two, and sometimes four, keepers to deal with him, and on one occasion, I think it was a show at Bristol Drill Hall, many years since, when he was being removed from the benches to be sent back to his owner, he, although still muzzled, overpowered his attendants, and worried and tore most of the clothes from one of them, well known to exhibitors as "Teddy Morgan," who gave me a blood-curdling account of his experiences of the affair. He said he fully thought "Satan" would have killed him then and there, and spoke of the nonchalant and airy manner in which his owner treated the matter, when he, afterwards recounted his perils and troubles to him, with all the embellishments of which he was capable, adding, "Mr. Adcock, he guv me a 'quid' (20 s.) sir, and said he were glad it were me, and not some raw cove what didn't understand dogs!"
CHAPTER XVIII
Anecdotes About Dogs, Personal and Selected
I have generally found persons, whether doggy or not, interested in anecdotes about dogs, particularly those displaying their intelligence, fidelity and courage. Some of the following are within my own knowledge, all are related as being believed to be true. I have selected those I fancied might be interesting out of a great many I have collected, but some of them may have appeared elsewhere.
We were telling of the extraordinary ways dogs will find their way home, alone, when a farmer in my district named Churchill said, "Yes, you see that Sheep dog," pointing to a large merle, rather old-fashioned type of Collie, called by his master "Ben." "Well," he said, "I was down at my daughter's in the lower part of Somersetshire, and had taken Ben there with me, by rail, and while we were all in the garden in the evening, I went into the house for something or other, and Ben missed me. He at once jumped the fence and set off on the return journey just as darkness was coming on, but he could not have wasted much time about it, as my servants told me he was back at my farm, more than forty miles distant, very early the next morning, and they kept looking out for me, as we were generally not far away from each other. I had that dog from a puppy, and I knew he had never seen that road before, it was dark soon after he started, yet he must have travelled at the rate of five or six miles an hour all the way, and at a time when there would be few people or conveyances about to help him."
I had a very similar experience with a dog of another breed. I had been travelling in the island of Skye, and bought from a game-keeper at a romantic looking village called Uig, a young dog, which he called a Short-Haired Skye Terrier, but which was, really, what is now known as a Scottish, or Aberdeen Terrier, called by the Gaelic name of "Fraochen," which I believe means heather, and was very appropriate in his case, for he was just that sort of brindle grizzled colour, that if he was in the heather (as I noticed many times while he was with me,) you could hardly distinguish him from it.
After going about with us to various places, I brought him to my mother's house at Clifton in Gloucestershire, where I was making a short stay, and the following day I went out for a drive over the Durdham Downs, through Westbury, Henbury, etc., to a village, about ten or twelve miles from Clifton, and (as I have since thought very foolishly,) I allowed, "Fraochen," to follow the trap, and several times during the journey, there I noticed him running by the side, or in front, but when we had accomplished the journey and were about to return by a different route, I missed him, and it then struck me, what a fool I had been, to take out a young dog, not only along a strange road, but in a country which he had never before seen, and quite a contrast to his native home in Skye. I of course gave him up as lost, which I much regretted, as his cool, independent manner and quaint, jaunty air had greatly endeared him to me, during the time we had been acquainted. However, when I returned to Clifton, I had to pass one place, near where some of the houses of the Clifton college masters now stand, where four roads meet, by one of which I must come to reach my mother's house. On the space in the centre, and commanding a view of these four, sat "Fraochen," waiting our approach. How he managed to get over the ten or twelve miles of quite unknown country, (as I found that he, like ourselves, came back by a different route from the one we went by,) I do not know, but I asked several travellers we met, if they had noticed a dog coming towards them along the road, and most of them answered they did, and that he was "running like steam," or he "wasn't wasting much time about it," etc.
He lived with me until his death from old age, many years afterwards but was quite a character in many ways. One of his peculiarities was, if he was out with my wife, with whom he was a prime favourite, without me, he considered her under his special protection, no matter how many or how large any of the other dogs out at same time might be, and if he was on, ever so far in front, and he met any rough-looking or suspicious character of the tramp species, he would immediately return and walk close to my wife's side, so as to come between her and the objectionable person, and continue that position so long as he was anywhere near.
We were talking of the speed of Greyhounds, which has been said to be equal to that of the fleetest horse, and a singular circumstance which occurred at Doncaster, in Yorkshire, sometime since, proved that it was not much inferior. A mare cantering over the Doncaster course, her competitor having been withdrawn, was joined by a Greyhound bitch, when she had proceeded about a mile, she seemed determined to race with the mare, which the jockey on the latter humoured, and gradually increased his pace, until at the distance, they put themselves at their full speed. The mare beat her antagonist only by a short head.
The race horse is perhaps from his superior strength and length of stride, generally able to outrun the Greyhound on level ground, but the latter would have the pull over him in a hilly country, or over ground at all rough or uneven.
The Greyhound is said to be deficient in attachment to his master and in general intelligence. There is some truth in the imputation, but he has, in fact, far less even than the hound, the opportunity of forming individual attachments and no other exercise of the mind is required of him, than to follow the game which starts up before him and catch it, if he can. If, however, he is closely watched, he will be found to have all the intellect his situation requires.
In illustration of this, I remember reading in a very old doggy book, an account of two greyhounds said to be as arrant thieves as ever lived. They would now and then steal into the cooking house, belonging to the kennels, lift up the boiler lid with their noses or paws, and if any portion of the joints or pieces of meat rose above the water, suddenly seize them and before there was time for them to suffer much from the heat, fling it out on the stone floor and eat it at their leisure, when it had grown cold. In order to prevent this, the top of the boiler was secured by an iron rod, passing under its handle and tied to the handle of the boiler on each side; and not many days passed before they found out they could gnaw the cords around it, displace the rod and fish out the meat as before. Small chains were then substituted for the cords and the meat was cooked in safety for nearly a week, when they found that by rearing on their hind legs and applying their united strength towards the upper part of the boiler, they could lift it off the fire and roll it on the floor, so getting at the soup or broth, although the meat was not in their reach. The keeper who looked after them expressed himself heartily glad when they were gone, for he said he was often afraid to go into the kennel, wondering what they would be up to next, and felt sure they were demons, and not dogs at all.
A singular story is told of King Richard II. of England, and a dog of this breed. It is given in the quaint language of Froissart. "A Greyhound called Mithe, who always wayted upon ye Kynge, and wolde know no man els. For when so ever ye Kynge did ryde, he that kept ye Greyhounde dyd lette hym lose, and he wolde streyht runne to ye Kynge and faun uppon hym and leape with his fore fete upon ye shoulders of ye Kynge. It came to passe that onne daye as ye Kynge and ye Erle of Darbye talked togyther in ye yarde of ye Courte ye Greyhounde who was wonte to leape uppon ye Kynge, left ye Kynge and came to ye Erle of Darbye, Duke of Lancastre, and made to hym the same friendlye continuance, and chere as he was wonte to do to ye Kynge. The Duke, who knew not ye dogge, nor whence he came, demanded of ye Kynge what ye Greyhounde wolde do. Cousin, quoth ye Kynge, it is a great good token to you, but an evyl and a gruesome signe to me. How know ye that, quod ye Duke. I know it fulle wele, quod ye Kynge. Ye Greyhounde acknowledgethe and acceptethe you, here this daye as ye ryteful Kynge of Englande, as ye shal be, without doubte, and I shal be streyghtwaye deposed; the Greyhounde hathe thys knowledge, naturally, there fore take hym to you, he wil followe you and forsake me. Ye Duke wel understoode those wordes and cheryshed ye Greyhounde, who wolde never after followe Kynge Richarde, but continued to follow at all tymes ye Duke of Lancastre."
The owner of the dog an English Water Spaniel, tells the following anecdote, which is stated to be absolutely true: "I was once on the seacoast, when a small, ill-made and leaky fishing boat was cast on shore, on a dangerous reef of rocks. Three men and a boy of ten years, constituted the crew, the men swam to land, but were so bruised and knocked about against the rocks that they were unable to render any assistance to the poor boy, and no one was found to venture out to help him. I heard the noise and went to the spot with my dog, I spoke to him and in he went, more like a seal or other marine animal, than a dog, and after several vain attempts succeeded in mounting the wreck and laid hold of the boy's clothes, who screamed and clung to the ropes, etc., being much frightened at being thus dragged into the water, as the waves were dashing over the rocks. In the excitement and anxiety of the moment I thought the dog had missed his hold, and stripped off most of my clothes to render what assistance I could. I was just in the act of springing in, having selected the time when the receding waves gave the best chance, when I caught sight of old Bagsman, as my dog was called, with the struggling boy, whose head was uppermost. I rushed to where they must land and received both as they reached the shore.
Some time after I was out with the same dog, wild fowl shooting. We had both been hard at work and I left him behind me, while I went to a neighbouring town to get a supply of gunpowder. A man in a drunken frolic had pushed off in a boat with a girl in it, the tide running out, carried the boat quickly away, and the man being unable to swim, became frightened and jumped overboard. Bagsman was near the spot, heard the splash, jumped in, swam to the man, caught hold of him and brought him twenty or thirty yards towards shore, when the drunken fellow clasped the dog tightly round the body, and they both went down together. The girl was saved by a boat going to her assistance. The body of the man was recovered about an hour afterward with that of the dog, tightly clasped in his arms, thus dragging both to the bottom."
The sagacity of the Poodle is well known, and their aptitude to learn tricks. Mr. Wilkie, of Ladiethorn, in Northumberland, had one he had instructed to go through all the apparent agonies of death. He would fall on his side, stretch himself out and move his hind legs as if he were in great pain; he would next simulate the convulsive throbs of departing life, and then stretch out his limbs, and thus seem as if he had expired; in this position he would remain motionless, until he heard his master's command to rise.
Jesse, in his "Gleanings in Natural History," gives another illustration of the intelligence of this breed. A friend of his had one that was not always under proper command. To keep him in better order he purchased a small whip, with which he, once or twice, corrected him during a walk. On his return the whip was put on a table in the hall, but the next morning it was missing. Soon afterwards it was found concealed in an outhouse, and again used in correcting the dog. Once more it would have been lost, but on a strict watch being kept upon the suspected dog, he was seen to take it away from the hall table in order to once more hide it away.
There are endless stories told of the life saving qualities of Newfoundland dogs. I will here mention two of them. A German was travelling one evening on foot through the Dyke country in Holland, accompanied by a large specimen of this breed, walking on a high bank which formed one side of a dyke, his foot slipped and he was precipitated into the water, and being unable to swim soon lost his senses. When he recovered consciousness, he found himself in a cottage on the other side of the dyke, surrounded by peasants, who had been using the means for the recovery of drowned persons. The account given him by one of them was, that returning home from work he observed, some distance off, a large dog in the water, swimming and dragging, and sometimes pushing along something that he seemed to have great difficulty in supporting, but which he at length succeeded in getting into a small creek on the opposite side. When the animal had pulled what he had hitherto supported, as far out of the water as he was able, the peasant was able to discover that it was the body of a man, whose face and hands the dog was industriously licking. He hastened to a bridge across the dyke, and having obtained assistance, the body was conveyed to a neighbouring house, where proper means soon restored the drowning man to life. Two very considerable bruises, with the marks of teeth, appeared one on his shoulder and the other on his poll, hence it was presumed the faithful beast had first seized his master by the shoulder and swam with him in this manner for sometime, but that his sagacity had prompted him to quit this hold and to shift it to the nape of the neck, by which he had been enabled to support the head out of the water and in this way he had conveyed him, nearly a quarter of a mile, before he had brought him to the creek where the banks were low and accessible.
Another story runs as follows: A vessel was driven on the beach at Lydd in Kent. The surf was rolling furiously. Eight poor fellows were crying for help, but no boat could be got off for their assistance. At length a gentleman came down to the beach accompanied by a fine Newfoundland dog, he directed the attention of the animal to the vessel and put a short stick into his mouth. The intelligent and courageous fellow at once understood his meaning, sprang into the sea, and fought his way through the waves. He could not, however, on account of the high seas running, get close enough to the vessel to deliver that with which he was charged, but the crew understood what was meant, made fast a rope to another piece of wood and threw it towards him. The noble beast dropped his own piece of wood, and seized that which had been cast to him, and then, with a degree of strength and determination scarcely credible, for he was again and again lost sight of in the roaring sea, he dragged it through the surge and delivered it to his master. A line of communication was thus formed, and every man on board was rescued.
Referring to some of the breeds peculiar to northern climes the following is told: A man named Chabert had a beautiful Siberian dog, who would draw him in a light carriage twenty miles a day. He asked £200 for him, and sold him for nearly that amount, for he was a most beautiful specimen of his breed, and as docile as he was beautiful. Between the sale and the delivery, the dog had an accident and broke his leg. Chabert, to whom the money was an object of immense importance, was in despair. He took the dog at night to a leading veterinary surgeon. He formally introduced them to each other, he talked to the dog, pointed to his leg, limped round the room, then requested the surgeon to apply some bandages, etc., round the leg and then seemed to walk sound and well, he patted the dog on the head, who was looking alternately at him and the surgeon, desired the surgeon to pat him and offer him his hand to lick, and then holding up his finger to the dog and gently shaking his head, quitted the room and the house. The dog immediately laid himself down, and submitted to a reduction of the fracture and the bandaging of the limb, without a motion, except once or twice, licking the hand of the operator. He was quite docile, and remained in a manner motionless, day after day, until at the expiration of a month, the limb was sound. Not a trace of the fracture was to be detected and the purchaser knew nothing of it.
Many years ago, the following scene took place in a street adjoining Hanover Square. It was an exhibition of a highly interesting character, worthy to be recorded. The then editor of the "Lancet" having heard that a French gentleman, Mr. Leonard, who had for some time been engaged in instructing two dogs in various performances, that required the exercise, not merely of the natural instincts of the animals and the power of imitation, but of a higher intellect and degrees of reflection and judgment far greater than is commonly developed in dogs, was then residing in London, obtained an introduction, and was obligingly favoured by Mr. Leonard, with an appointment to witness the performance of his extraordinary pupils, and he thus describes the interview:
Two fine dogs of the Spanish breed were introduced by Mr. Leonard, with the customary French politeness, the largest by the name of Philax, the other as Brac (or Spot), the former had been in training three, the latter two years. They were in vigourous health, and having bowed gracefully, took their seats on the hearth rug side by side. Mr. Leonard then gave a lively description of the means he had employed to develop the brain power of these animals, how from being fond of the chase and anxious to possess the best trained dogs, he had employed the usual course of training, how the conviction had been impressed on his mind, that by gentle usage and steady perseverance in making the animal repeat over and over again, what was wanted, not only would he be capable of performing the act required, but the part of the brain which was brought into mental activity by the effort, would become more fully developed and a permanent increase of power obtained.
After this introduction, Mr. Leonard spoke to his dogs in French in his usual tone, ordering one to walk, the other to lie down, to run, gallop, halt, crouch, etc., which they did as promptly and correctly as the most docile children. Then he put them through the usual exercises of the circus rings, which they performed as well as the best trained ponies at any high class circus. He then placed six cards of different colours on the floor, and sitting with his back to the dogs, directed one to pick up the blue card, and the other the white one, etc., etc., varying his orders rapidly, and speaking in such a manner that unless the dogs had a perfect knowledge of the words used, they could not have carried out his commands. For example, he said, "Philax, take the red card and give it to Brac," and "Brac, take the white card and give it to Philax." The dogs instantly did this and exchanged cards with each other. He then said, "Philax, put your card on the green," and "Brac, put yours on the blue," and this was immediately done. Pieces of bread and meat were placed on the floor, also figured cards and varied directions and instructions were given to the dogs, so as severely to test their memories, obedience and intelligence. They brought the bread, meat, or cards, as commanded, but did not attempt to eat any of the two former, unless ordered to do so. Philax was then desired to fetch a piece of meat and give it to Brac, and then Brac was told to give it back to Philax, who was to return it to its place. Philax was next told he might bring a piece of bread and eat it, but before he had time to swallow it, his master forbade him and desired him to show he had obeyed orders, and the dog instantly protruded the crust between his lips. While some of these feats were being performed, Mr. Leonard loudly cracked a whip occasionally, to prove that the animals were so completely under discipline that they would give no heed to any noises or interruptions.
After many other performances Mr. Leonard invited Mr. Blanc, a gentleman present, to play a game of dominoes with one of his dogs, which he consented to do. The younger dog, Brac, seated himself on a chair at the table and Messrs. Leonard and Blanc seated themselves opposite. Six dominoes were placed on their edges, in the usual way, before the dog and the same number before Mr. Blanc. The dog having amongst its numbers a double number, took it up in its mouth and dropped it in the centre of the table, Mr. Blanc added a single number to one side of it, the dog at once played another correctly, and so on, till all the pieces were used up. A fresh lot of six dominoes were then served out to each competitor and Mr. Blanc (just to test the dog) intentionally put a wrong number in the course of the game. The dog looked surprised and excited, stared hard at Mr. Blanc, growled, and finally barked loudly. Finding no notice taken of his remonstrances, he then pushed away the wrong domino, with his nose, and put a right number, from amongst his own, in its place. Mr. Blanc afterwards continued the play correctly and the game was won by the dog. Not the slightest hint or information appeared to be given by Mr. Leonard to the dog. This method of playing a game of dominoes must have been entirely the result of his individual observation and judgment. The performance was strictly private throughout, the owner of the dogs was a gentleman of independent fortune, and had taken up the instruction of his dogs merely as a curious and amusing investigation as to the cultivated intelligence of animals.
Plutarch relates that, at the Theatre of Marcellus, a dog was exhibited before the Emperor Vespasian so well taught, as to perform the figures and steps of every (then) known kind of dance. He afterwards feigned illness in a most singular manner, so as to strike the spectators with astonishment. He first exhibited various symptoms of pain, then fell down as if dead, afterwards seemed to revive, gradually, as if waking from a profound sleep and then frisked and sported about, giving meanwhile various demonstrations of joy and delight.
It is surprising the antipathy which sometimes exists between inmates of the same kennels, I have had several instances of it in the course of a long experience with most breeds. I remember some years ago I had a Skye Terrier bitch, called "Wasp," and a Pepper Dandie bitch, known as "Hornet," which we generally characterised as "The Insects," and very stinging insects they were, if they happened to meet. One day when I was driving in the dog cart to the railway station, at that time about a six-mile drive to the nearest town to where I was living, and as we were going along, I thought I heard a humming sound, and said to my kennelman who was with me, "Jump down, Hale, I believe those Insects are at it!" and I was right. They had eaten through the sides of their baskets, and got at each other, through the holes, and were fairly enjoying themselves on the journey. We managed to keep them apart the rest of the way to the show they were bound for. I cannot recall what the place was, but I well remember that "Hornet," who although quite a little creature, was a perfect demon with others of her own race, though sweet tempered, and most engaging with human beings, broke three chains I bought there, two of them new ones, in order to get again at "Wasp," before they left the show to return home. Their portraits appear in one of my pictures with pony, my children and dogs, and are very like them.
CHAPTER XIX
Anecdotes About Dogs (Continued)
In these days, when so much has been attempted and done, in connection with expeditions to the Arctic regions, the following account by the late Captain Parry, R. N. in the Journal of his second voyage, may be interesting as giving a lively and accurate description of the manner in which Esquimaux Dogs are managed in the sleighing operations in those inclement climes.
"When drawing a sledge," says he, "the dogs have a simple harness of reindeer or seal skin, going round the neck of one bight and another for each of the fore legs, with a single thong leading over the back, and attached to the sledge, as a trace.
"Though they appear, at first sight, to be huddled together without any regard to regularity, there is, in fact, considerable attention paid to their arrangement, particularly in the selection of a dog of peculiar spirit and sagacity, who is allowed by a longer trace, to precede all the rest, as Leader, and to whom, in turning to the right or left, the driver usually addresses himself.
"This choice is made without regard to age or sex, and the rest of the dogs take precedency according to their training or sagacity, the least effective being put nearest the sledge.
"The leader is, usually, from eighteen to twenty feet from the fore part of the sledge and the hindmost dog about half that distance, so that, when ten or twelve are running together several are nearly abreast of each other.
"The driver sits quite low on the front part of the sledge, with his feet overhanging the snow on one side, and having in his hand a whip, of which the handle is plaited a little way down to stiffen it, and give it a spring, on which much of its use depends, and that which composes the lash is chewed by the women to make it flexible in frosty weather.
"The men acquire, from their youth, considerable expertness in the use of this whip. The lash is left to trail along the ground by the side of the sledge, and with it they can inflict a very severe blow upon any one of the dogs at pleasure.
"Though the dogs are kept in training solely and entirely by the fear of the whip, and, indeed without it would soon have their own way, its immediate effect is always detrimental to the draught of the sledge, for not only does the individual that is struck draw back and slacken his pace, but generally turns upon his next neighbour, and this passing on to the next occasions a general divergency, accompanied by the usual yelping and showing of teeth. The dogs then come together again by degrees, and the pace of the sledge is quickened; but even at the best of times, by this rude mode of draught, (and be it remembered the only one, in these inclement parts of the world,) the traces of one-third of the dogs form an angle of thirty or forty degrees on each side of the direction in which the sledge is advancing.
"Another great inconvenience attending the Esquimaux method of putting dogs to, besides that of not employing their strength to the best advantage, is the constant entanglement of the traces by the dogs repeatedly doubling under from side to side to avoid the whip, so that, after running a few miles, the traces always require to be taken off and cleared.
"In directing the sledge, the whip plays no very essential part, the driver for this purpose using certain words, as the carters do with us, to make the dogs turn more to the right or left. To these, a good leader attends with admirable precision, especially if his own name be repeated, at the same time looking behind over his shoulder with great earnestness, as if listening to the directions of the driver.
"On a beaten track, or where even a single foot, or sledge mark is visible, or occasionally discernible, there is not the slightest trouble in guiding the dogs; for even in the darkest night, and in the heaviest snow drifts, there is little or no danger of them losing their road, the leader keeping his nose near the ground, and directing the rest with wonderful sagacity.
"Where, however, there is no beaten track, the best driver amongst them, makes a terribly circuitous course, as all the Esquimaux roads plainly show; these generally occupying an extent of six miles, when with a horse and sledge the journey would scarcely have amounted to five!
"On rough ground, as on hummocks of ice, the sledge would be frequently overturned, or altogether stopped, if the driver did not repeatedly get off and by lifting or drawing it on one side, steer clear of those accidents. At all times, indeed, except on a smooth and well made road, he is pretty constantly employed, thus, with his feet, which, together with his never ceasing vociferations and frequent use of the whip, renders the driving of one of these vehicles by no means an easy or a pleasant task.
"When the driver wishes to stop the sledge, he calls out 'Wo, woa,' exactly as our carters do, but the attention paid to this command depends altogether on his ability to enforce it. If the weight is small and the journey homeward, the dogs are not to be thus delayed, the driver is obliged therefore to dig his heels into the snow, to obstruct their progress, and having thus succeeded in stopping them, he stands up with one leg before the foremost cross-piece of the sledge, till by means of gently laying his whip over each dog's head, he has made them all lie down. Even then, he takes care not to quit his position; so that, should the dogs set off, he is thrown upon the sledge instead of being left behind by them.
"With heavy loads, the dogs draw best with one of their own people, especially a woman, walking a little way ahead, and in this case they are sometimes enticed to mend their pace by holding a mitten to the mouth and then making the motion of cutting it with a knife and throwing it on the snow, when the dogs, mistaking it for meat, hasten forward to pick it up. The women also entice them from the huts in a similar manner. The rate at which they travel depends of course on the weight they have to draw and the roads on which the journey is performed.
"When the latter is level and very hard and smooth constituting in other parts of North America what is called 'good sleighing,' six or seven dogs will draw from eight to ten hundredweight at the rate of seven or eight miles an hour, for several hours together, and will easily, under these circumstances, perform a journey of from fifty to sixty miles a day. On untrodden snow, five and twenty, or thirty miles would be a good journey in a day.
"The same number of well-fed dogs with five or six hundredweight behind them, that of the sledge included, are almost unmanageable, and will, on a smooth road, run any way they please at the rate of ten miles an hour. The work performed, however, by a greater number of dogs is, by no means, in proportion to this, owing to the imperfect mode already described of utilising the strength of these sturdy creatures and to the more frequent snarling and fighting occasioned by the increase in numbers of the draught team or teams."
I have no doubt all owners of kennels have noticed the sudden antipathies taken by dogs sometimes to their own comrades and companions. I remember several instances, amongst my dogs; one was between two remarkably quiet and unassuming Bull Bitches, Louisa and Lucretia, who lived together in a roomy kennel for a long time, but one night there was such a great noise amongst all the dogs that I felt sure there must be something serious going on, so I got up and dressed sufficiently to go down, and found that although the barking and yelling was being done by the Sheep Dogs, Terriers, etc., the "business" lay entirely between the two ladies mentioned, who were simply locked together, and I had a nasty job to get and keep them apart, as it really wants two persons to deal with two determined "boxers," but at last, I got one outside, and the other inside the loose box, and then managed all right.
Another case I had was the two well-known champions, Rob Roy and Laird, two of the best Dandies going at the time they were about. Neither of them had any idea what fear was, but each hated the other with the most deadly hatred, and even to hear the bark of the one, would set the other screaming to get at him, and yet they were both docile with people, and mostly with other dogs, but Laird had a particular dislike to any dog, running in front of a vehicle and barking at the horse, and this aversion was the cause of his sudden death. Cedar Lodge, Downend, Glo., where I then lived, was the corner of one of four roads, with a large lawn on the two front sides of it, and it was Laird's delight to sit on the top of a low wall, there, and watch the passers by; one morning, early, he was thus engaged, when a crank axle cart came rumbling along, accompanied by a good-sized dog, barking in front of the horse; this was too much for Laird, who sprang from the wall into the road and pinned the dog, and before the man could pull up his horse, the wheels of the cart had gone over the fighting dogs in the road with fatal effects on one of the combatants, as Laird, without a whimper, though he must have been seriously injured, walked slowly into the house, lay down in his own box, and died then and there!
Another case of sudden antipathy I remember was between two Skye Bitches of mine, Laura and Lucy (winners of some fifty prizes at all the best shows, while they were about), I bought, on the dispersal of Mrs. Jacobson's kennel, after her lamented death. She was a genuine fancier, and sportswoman, and all her dogs were sure to be "workers," and thoroughly game. One of them was drop-eared, and the other prick-eared, and for a long time they were the best of friends, and not only lived together in one kennel, but used to go to shows often considerable distances, such as Edinburgh, Darlington, and other places in a long low wicker basket, which just suited them without any partition or division in it. But one day they had some difference of opinion, the cause of which I do not know, but there were "ructions," and they never could be trusted together again without the certainty of "war to the knife."
James Hogg, well known as the Ettrick shepherd, declares in his "Shepherd's Calendar" that dogs know what is said on subjects in which they are interested. A farmer had a dog that for three or four years in the latter part of his life, met him at the foot of his farm, about a mile and a half from his house, on his way home. If he was away half a day, a week, or a fortnight, it was all the same, she met him at that spot, there was never an instance known of her going to meet him, on a wrong day, and she could only know when he was coming back, by hearing it mentioned in the family.
I have had many dogs who knew Sunday perfectly well, whether by hearing the church bells, or other indications of the day, I do not know, but although wild to go if they saw me going out at any other time, on that day, they would take no notice nor make any attempt to follow me.
In the same way I have had many thin-coated dogs such as Bull and English Terriers, Smooth Toys and Pugs, who would not go out willingly in wet weather, but Sheep Dogs, Dalmatians, Deerhounds, Dandies, Scottish, Skyes and Wirehaired Fox Terriers, take no notice of it, beyond occasionally shaking themselves, to get rid of some of the water.
Another of Hogg's tales is as follows: "One of my Sheep dogs, named Hector, was very keen in picking up what was said before him." One day Hogg said to his mother, "I am going to Bowerhope to-morrow for a fortnight, but I will not take Hector with me, for he is constantly quarrelling with the rest of the dogs." Hector was present and must have overheard the conversation, as next morning he was missing, and when Hogg reached Bowerhope, Hector was sitting on a hillock, waiting his arrival, he had swum across a flooded river to reach the spot.
Retrievers have the reputation, either rightly or wrongly, of being quarrelsome with other dogs, and so are more often kept as guards or for sporting work, than as companions or pets, but the following are recorded of their sagacity. The inmates of a house in High street in a well-known city were aroused by the loud barking of a dog on the premises. He was a large Black Retriever, Jack, much attached to his master and family. The cause of alarm was soon seen to be a fire raging furiously next door, the smoke from which had aroused the dog. In a short time the house was emptied, all the inmates escaping before it caught fire, which appeared inevitable. Jack was often used to be left in charge of the house when the family were temporarily absent, and although not tied up, no persuasion or even coaxing would induce him to desert his post, so much so that it was four hours after he had given the first alarm of fire, that he allowed one of the family to persuade him to leave the building, which was then almost "gutted." In a marvellous manner, he had escaped injury from the fire, or falling walls, rafters, etc., but the shock to the system from the inhalation of smoke, etc., was so severe, that it caused inflammation of the lungs, and he died the next day, after suffering with coughing, etc., really a martyr to what he looked upon as his duty, and though occasionally taking a little water, refusing all food.
CHAPTER XX
Anecdotes About Dogs (Continued)
Another instance of sagacity occurred at Bristol, when a nursemaid wheeling a perambulator with a baby in it, down Spring Hill, which those of my readers who know the locality, will remember, is one of the steepest in that hilly part of the country, was seized with a fit, and loosened her hold. In an instant the little vehicle, with its living occupant, was darting down towards a flight of steps in the hill and apparently to certain destruction. Just before its arrival at the steps, the leathern apron of the perambulator was seized by a Retriever dog, who happened to witness the occurrence, and saw the danger of it, the vehicle was stopped and the child saved from an untimely death.
The natural love of fun and inclination for being taught almost anything of the Irish Water Spaniel is well known, so that I think the following account by Mr. Lindhoe, R.E., at one time a keen fancier and exhibitor, of his Rake and Blaeney, may be interesting to my readers.
He writes: "Rake is a very clever dog and can be taught almost any trick. He is very tender-mouthed and can dive and bring up an egg, unbroken, from a depth of twelve feet or more. It is very amusing also to see him take sixpence out of a bucket of water, as he sometimes has his head under nearly two minutes before picking it up. I taught him a very clever trick which used to cause much amusement at the shows. Whenever he was disturbed by any one poking at him with a stick to make him rouse up and show himself, he would rise gently, put his fore paws on the shoulders of the disturber of his rest, and before it was guessed what idea he had in view, seize and take off the man's hat and deposit it in the pan of water, or on the straw in his pen. Blaeney also is wonderfully clever, and a splendid hand at sport on land or in water. After a game of croquet is finished, she invariably brings in the hoops, mallets, balls, etc., and places them in their proper box in the hall. Once when I was engaged in separating four large Mastiffs who were fighting, she came to my rescue, and considering the best way of rendering assistance, seized the most stubborn of the combatants by the tail and held on till the fight was stopped. She would retrieve very long distances and often surprised people by seizing some stick or other article, which had been put down on purpose for her to fetch, and they had unknowingly picked up. I have frequently known both these dogs jump into the water from a distance of nearly thirty feet."
I remember, on a recent occasion, when I had promised to judge at one of our largest London shows, having the impression the show opened on the Tuesday, I went up on the Monday, and did not discover my mistake until I got to the hotel I usually patronised for any show in that part of the metropolis, but as I have always any amount of places and people to see, I own I did not trouble about the matter, and had nearly forgotten it until at the show I met a gentleman also hailing from the same part of England and a well-known light in the Beagle world, who said: "I did an unusual thing this time, came up a day too soon, and I shall get a pretty 'roasting' over it." I replied: "I also did the same for the first time, in a long experience of Dog shows, but do not expect any 'roasting.'" He said, "Oh, but my wife will know it, if no one else does, and she will never forget it." I answered, "Neither my wife, nor any one else, will know it, from me, as I don't believe (any more than the late Mr. Sam Weller) in telling matters against myself." But as I see the gentleman referred to has followed the example of the late Mr. Silas Wegg (in Our Mutual Friend) and "dropped into poetry," in the pages of a well known fancier's paper, it may amuse some of our mutual friends if I quote the lines here:
TOO PREVIOUS PUNCTUALITY.
Two L's went up, a Lordly Lane.
To visit Cruft, his Show
And scorning both the wind, and rain,
Were early, "on the go."
They both hail from the Sunny West,
And, both, their locks, are grey,
But spite of this, may I be blessed,
They, both, mistook the day!
The one, a Judge, of well-known fame,
But not, a Judge, of days,
The other, but, a Judge of Game,
In all its gamey ways.
So eager were they for the fray,
To be in time, for Sport,
They both arrived, upon the day,
The day, before, they ought!
Many of the older exhibitors will remember the late Mr. I. H. Murchison, F. R. G. S., whose large and successful kennel of St. Bernards, Dandies, and Fox Terriers, was for so many years in the front rank at all the leading shows? As I was much mixed up in the two last named varieties, I used constantly to be in his company, and that of his son, also a keen and capable fancier. I remember on one occasion meeting him at a show, I forget where it was, now, I think in the London district, but amongst the dogs he had there was a young and very promising Fox Terrier, called "Cracknel," with which he had carried all before him, and he showed me a letter he had received from a gentleman then, as now, in the front rank of Fox Terrier breeders, and exhibitors, offering him £270 for the dog, and he said, since receipt of the letter, the writer had offered to make it "even money" (£300), at that time, quite a fancy price for a specimen of that breed. He said, "What would you advise me to do about it?" I said, "Why take it, without hesitation, it is a tempting price, the life of all dogs is uncertain, and show dogs, especially, and it will do your kennel more good to have sold a dog from it, at such a figure, than anything you can gain, in any other way." However, he refused the offer, and Cracknel not long afterwards rushed into a hayfield after a rabbit, or rat, and so cut himself with a scythe hidden in the long grass that he had to be sewn up and was long in the veterinary surgeon's care and was never in the front rank again!
I have known many such cases of good offers being refused to the prejudice of the dog's owners. I remember a well-known lady exhibitor coming up to me at a show with a telegram she had just received from America, offering her £150 for a prize winning pug she had, and asking my advice. I strongly advised her to take it, as it was far more than the market value of the dog, but, in the end, she sent back a refusal. Other dogs came forward, and put her dog into the rear rank, and she afterwards sold it for, I think, about £20.
Mr. Edwin Nichols, of whom I have spoken in relation to several large breeds, was one of the first men to get large prices for his dogs, as it must be quite twenty years or more since he received so he told me, £900 for two dogs, one of them being the well known Mastiff, "Turk," one of the grandest specimens of his day, and the other a high class Bloodhound.
And to show what a fine judge he was as to the strains to breed, I remember an instance he gave me from his extensive experience. He met a friend one day to whom he had sold a Bloodhound bitch puppy, who said, "Mr. Nichols, I wish you would take back that puppy I had from you, it is always doing mischief in the garden, etc., and I wish to get rid of it." Mr. Nichols said, "I really don't want it, I have a lot of dogs of all ages, and I am more a seller than a buyer at present." To make a long story short, he eventually took back the young bitch for £10, afterward mating her to one of his best dogs, and he told me that he sold that litter, which produced two if not three champions, for over one thousand pounds. I say, that a man who could do such a thing, proved himself a consummate judge, and I have not the slightest doubt of the truth of the story, and, when he named the dogs in the litter to me, I knew what grand specimens of the breed they were.
CHAPTER XXI
Anecdotes About Dogs (Continued)
I have mentioned the "Warwick Shows" of days gone by, and what charming re-unions they were. I think the incident which follows must have been at the first of them, for although I had known Mr. Nichols by sight and name, I did not think I was known to him. I remember I had reached Warwick in the afternoon, engaged a bed at the Globe Hotel (where they told me mine was a double bedded room, and I stipulated that the other bed should not be occupied without my consent), and went to the show, and meeting with many friends there, it was late when I got back. I then found Mr. Nichols waiting to see who I was, as it seemed the other bed in my room was the only one unoccupied in the town. I had not left my name, and the hotel people's description did not enlighten him, but he said, "Whoever it is, if he knows anything about dogs, or doggy men, he will know me!" and so it proved. We had, as always afterwards whenever we met, a long talk on subjects congenial to us both, and he secured the "last bed of Warwick!"
Amongst the many weaknesses to which I plead guilty, is a devoted admiration of the works of the late Charles Dickens, some of which came out in their green coloured numbers, while I was a schoolboy, and it was the delight of my brothers and self, to sit and listen to them being read out to us by our dear mother, who had a gift in that direction. I hope my readers will pardon my giving here, a very short doggy story, from Pickwick Papers, in the pithy, disjointed sentences of "Mr. Alfred Jingle," as I wish to give something, however slight, about nearly every breed, and the anecdotes about Pointers are not very numerous. "Ah! you should keep dogs, fine animals, sagacious creatures. Dog of my own once, Pointer, surprising instinct, out shooting one day, entering enclosure, whistled, dog stopped, whistled again, Ponto! no go; stock still, called him, 'Ponto, Ponto,' no go, stock still, wouldn't move, dog transfixed, staring at a board, looked up, saw an inscription, 'Gamekeeper has orders to shoot all dogs found in this enclosure,' wouldn't pass it, wonderful dog, valuable dog that, very. 'Singular circumstance that,' said Mr. Pickwick, 'Will you allow me to make a note of it?' 'Certainly, sir, certainly, hundred more anecdotes of the same animal.'"
At the risk of its being considered "a chestnut," I will here recount the story of the dogs of Oldacre, so well told by the late William Howitt, in his "Boys' Country Book" (one of the prime favourites of my boyhood). "This story brings to my recollection, those two noble dogs at Oldacre, two grand Setters that Squire Mills used always to have at his heels, whether it was shooting season or not, just one the picture of the other, as like as pin to pin or pear to pear!
Well, Squire Mills had an estate in Oxfordshire, a hundred miles off at least; and there he used to go twice a year to receive his rents, and he never went, while he had those dogs, without taking one of them with him. When the dog was tired he let him go up into his chaise and ride, and when he was tired of riding, the dog leaped out and jogged along again till he was tired again.
Squire Mills always stopped at the Mitre Inn at Oxford, and it so happened, on one occasion, that as his Setter followed him up the stable yard, a great mastiff, which was chained to a kennel, suddenly rushed out, seized on the Setter, and before he could be beaten off, had very severely worried him. Squire Mills was very angry, and the innkeeper made many apologies, but that did not cure the dog's wounds, and the Squire, who said he would rather have given five pounds than the dog had been so used, set off homeward in no very good humour.
The dog, which seemed very much hurt, lay whining and appearing very uneasy, in the bottom of the chaise, all the way home, and when they got there the keeper was ordered to pay every attention to him, and do all that he could for him. But the dog lay in his kennel for more than a week, and seemed in a very poor way, indeed. He would not eat, and the keeper was very doubtful what would be the upshot of it, when, one morning he was very much surprised to find, both he and his fellow dog missing.
All inquiries were made, but nothing could be heard of them and it was concluded they were stolen. The squire immediately offered five and twenty guineas for the discovery of the thief; but no thief was heard of, or the dogs either, till a week afterwards, when they again entered the yard, but two such poor jaded, worn-down creatures as never were seen.
They were, apparently, starved to the very point of death, covered with dust, and in fact, in such a condition that notwithstanding all that could be done, they both died in the course of a few days. On examining them after death, they appeared to have been shot at, various shot-corns being found in their skins.
Nothing, however, came to light about it; and on the next rent day the Squire made his journey into Oxfordshire without either of his favourite dogs.
As he passed the kennel of the Mastiff in the Inn Yard, at Oxford, he could not help looking, with resentment, towards it, when to his surprise, instead of the Mastiff, which had been there many years, he saw quite another dog. "And so you have parted with that savage brute of a Mastiff that worried my setter the last time I was here," he said to the Ostler. "Ay," replied the Ostler, "there's a curious thing about that, sir, the dog was worried, dead on the spot, at the door of his own kennel, and if I am not mistaken, your setter helped to do it too." "My setter," said the Squire, "what do you mean?" "I mean, sir," said the man, "that about a week or so after you was here last, when your dog got so towsled by old Sampson, the Mastiff, we heard all of a sudden a terrible noise of dogs fighting in the yard, and on running out, saw two great dogs fiercely at work with old Sampson. They had got him down, and seemed tearing him into very atoms. Our master made no more to do, but in he ran, snatched down the gun, and fired at the dogs, but it was too late, they were just going over the yard wall together, and I dare say, got off without the peppering master meant for them. But there, however, was old Sampson, as dead as the stones he lay upon!" "And you thought," said the Squire, "that one of the dogs resembled my setter?" "Nay," said the Ostler, "both of them. One was the very picture of the other, and if they were not your setters, they were no dogs at all!" "It is very wonderful," said the Squire, "but I have not a doubt but that you are quite right in your belief, and this accounts for what, till this moment, has very much puzzled me. My dog was so resentful of the injury and insult that he received from your Mastiff, that he without doubt communicated his grievances to his brother dog, and prevailed on him to set out on a pilgrimage of revenge. The dogs disappeared for a week or more together, they came back wounded, and in that miserable plight, that they never recovered it. The dogs, let me tell you, are both dead, and I would not have taken a hundred pounds for them." The Ostler and all the people about the inn were wonderfully surprised at the story, and a wonderful circumstance it was, to be sure. My grandfather, who told the story, added, "It is just as true as you sit there, I had it word for word, nay, I have had it, word for word, twenty times, from Squire Mills himself."
Of course in a long career of dog showing and judging I have come into contact with all classes of exhibitors, and I am bound to say, as a general rule, have met with the greatest courtesy and had many a kind turn done me at different times, nor was I ever, but once, the subject of any of the practical jokes which used to be, more than they are now, so very frequent, and sometimes very rough, and unpleasant in their nature.
The one exception was when I was stopping at Sydenham, on the occasion of a Crystal Palace show, and when I rose in the morning to go up and see my dogs before breakfast, my boots could nowhere be found, but as I knew there was a very lively team stopping at the same hotel, I felt certain it was their doing, and resolved to checkmate them by going to see the dogs all the same and saying nothing about it, so as I always carried in my bag a pair of Indian leather moccasins, I put them on, and went over to the Palace, where I presently met one of the squad I suspected of "lifting my boots," he said, "What funny shoes you have on, Mr. Lane." I said, "Yes, they are a little out of the common, but, the fact is, some of the jokers at my hotel, have taken a fancy to my boots and probably supposed I should be kept a prisoner in the hotel all day, and so I put on these," he said, "You don't mean to say, your boots were taken. They've taken the wrong man's; no one had the slightest idea of playing any prank on you," and when I returned, I found my boots in my room.
I came across, in an old French work, the following curious, if true, method of fishing, in which the services of a Poodle, or Terrier were called into action. The enthusiastic sportsman who fears neither storms nor sunstroke (coup de soleil) makes his appearance at the Riverside without either fishing rod, lines, worms, flies or bait, of any description, but having under his left arm a double-barrelled gun, in his right hand, a large cabbage and following at his heels a clever Poodle or Terrier dog. The fisherman, or huntsman, I scarcely know which to call him, now duly reconnoitres the river, fixes upon some tree, the large and lower branches of which hang out over the water, ascends with his gun and cabbage, and having taken up his position upon one of the large projecting branches, closely examines the surface of the stream beneath him.
He has, usually, not been long on his perch, before he perceives a stately pike, or other member of the finny tribe, paddling up the river, he instantly breaks a leaf off the cabbage, and when the fish has approached sufficiently near, throws it into the water, the frightened fish immediately disappears, but shortly after rises, and grateful to the kind and unknown friend who has provided this admirable parasol, swims towards it, and after pushing it about for a while with his nose, finally places himself comfortably under its protecting and congenial shade.
The sportsman in the tree, watching the animated movements of the cabbage leaf, immediately fires, when the dog, whose sagacity is quite equal to that of his master, plunges into the water, and if the fish is either dead or severely wounded, seldom fails to bring the scaly morsel to land; thus as long as the heavens are bright and blue, the water keeps warm on the surface and the larger fish prefer to swim in the sun, the sport continues so long as the climbing and staying powers of the sportsman hold out. Sometimes the dog and fish have a very sharp struggle, and then the fun is great indeed unless, by chance, the sportsman should unfortunately miss his footing in the tree, in the midst of his amusement and drop head foremost into the water with his double-barrelled gun and what is left of his cabbage.
I think it may be interesting here to quote the eulogistic terms in which Mr. Burchell, the well-known African traveller, wrote of his dogs, as he had a considerable experience of the breed in the course of his long and perilous journeys in that (at the time he was there) almost unknown country.
"Our pack of dogs," says he, "consisted of five and twenty, of various sorts and sizes. This great variety, though not altogether intentional, as I was obliged to take any that could be procured and were at all likely to answer my purposes, was often of the greater service to me, as I observed, some gave notice of danger, or their suspicions of it, in one way, and others in quite a different manner. Some were more disposed to keep watch against men, others against wild beasts of prey, and others for animals and birds of sport; some discovered an enemy by their quickness of hearing, others by that of scent; some were useful for speed in pursuing game, some for their vigilance and barking, and others for their courage in holding ferocious animals at bay. So large a pack indeed was not maintained without adding greatly to our care and trouble, in supplying them with meat and water, for it was sometimes difficult to procure for them enough of the latter; but, their services were invaluable, often contributing to our safety, and always to our ease, by their constant vigilance, as we felt confident that no danger could approach us at night without its being announced by their barking.
"No circumstances could render the value and fidelity of these animals so conspicuous and sensible as a journey through regions which abounding in wild beasts of almost every class, gave us continual opportunities of witnessing the strong contrast between the ferocious beasts of prey, many of which fly at the approach of man and these kind, but not always duly appreciated, companions of the human race. Many times when we have been travelling over plains where the wild creatures of all kinds have fled directly we appeared in sight, have I turned my eyes towards my dogs, in admiration of their devotion and attachment and have felt a grateful affection towards them for preferring our society to the wild liberty of other quadrupeds.
"Often in the middle of the night when all my people have been fast asleep round the fire, have I stood to contemplate these faithful animals lying by their side, and have learned to esteem them for their social inclination to mankind. When wandering over pathless deserts, oppressed with vexation and distress at the conduct of my own men I have turned to them, as my only friends and felt how much inferior to them was man when actuated only by selfish views.
"The familiarity which exists between these animals and our own race, is so common to almost every country of the globe, that any remark upon it must seem superfluous, but I cannot avoid believing that it is the universality of the fact which prevents the greater part of mankind from duly reflecting on the subject. While almost every other quadruped fears man as its most formidable enemy, here is one which regards him as a friend.
"We must not mistake the nature of the case, it is not because we train him to our use and have made choice of him in preference to other animals, but because this particular species feels a natural desire to be useful to man and from spontaneous impulse attaches itself to him. Were it not so we should see in various countries an equal familiarity with various other quadrupeds according to the habits, tastes, or caprices of different nations. But, everywhere, it is the dog only takes delight in associating with us, in sharing our abodes, and is even jealous that our attention should be bestowed on him alone, it is he who knows us personally, watches for us, and warns us of danger.
"It is impossible for the naturalist, when taking a survey of the whole animal creation not to feel a conviction that this friendship between two creatures so different from each other, must be the result of the laws of nature; nor can the humane and feeling mind avoid the belief that kindness to those animals, from which he derives continued and essential assistance is part of his moral duty." These words of such an experienced naturalist as Mr. Burchell, are as true to-day as when they were written by him more than fifty years ago, but I am bound to say I think dogs are more valuable, and more thought of now, than ever they were since the world began.
Mr. Bell tells a short story of the intelligence displayed by a Bloodhound belonging to a friend of his, a Mr. Boyle. He says, "To make trial whether a young hound was well instructed, Mr. Boyle desired one of his servants to walk to a town four miles off, and then to a market town three miles from thence. The dog, without seeing the man he was to pursue, followed him by the scent to the above mentioned places, notwithstanding the multitude of market people that went along the same road and of travellers that had occasion to come, and when the Bloodhound came to the market town he passed through the streets, without taking notice of any of the people there, and ceased not till he had gone to the house, where the man he sought rested himself and where he found him in an upper room to the wonder of those who had accompanied him in this pursuit." In the face of the Bloodhound trials last year, and again this spring, in which my friend Mr. Brough has been so much interested, I thought some of my readers might like to see this short account of the doings of a young hound, more than half a century ago.
To illustrate the occasional trials of exhibitors, I recollect starting off early with a team of dogs for one of the first general shows held at Oxford, I think all my dogs were in boxes or baskets but one, a tricolour Collie, whose name I forget, and he was on the chain, and put by the railway people into one of those vile receptacles they call dog boxes, narrow, dark, low and often dirty. On arrival at Didcot (which I had before connected in my mind with Banbury cakes, and was quite surprised to find a "one-eyed" sort of straggling village of contemptible size,) a porter opened one end of the dog den and called the Collie, he, however, showed no intention of responding to the call, and retreated to the other end of the den and growled at the porter, and one of the other porters went around to the further side of the coach and opened the other door of the den, and the dog, taking advantage of this chance of freedom, bolted out, crossed the line, went through a hedge and found himself at once in the open country. I had taken no part in the affair, and declined all responsibility, but told the officials I should sue the company for the value of the dog, lost through their carelessness. They begged me to accompany some of their men in search of the dog, as he might be easier caught if he saw someone he knew amongst those after him.
Soon after it began to rain, and from soon after eleven a. m. till after six p. m. we tramped the country in search of the wandering dog, whom we afterwards saw in the distance, but in that district the fields are very large, and often as we laboriously got into a field through a hedge or over hurdles, etc., we had the mortification of seeing the dog disappear through or over the hedge on the opposite side, and very wearisome work it was.
At length I decided to go on to Oxford, with the rest of my dogs, and left the matter of the lost dog with the railway company, who, I was informed, offered a reward for his recovery, and about a month afterwards I had a letter asking me to call at one of their stations where they thought a dog lately found answered the description of mine. This turned out to be correct and I took home the dog, making a small claim for expenses I had been put to in the matter. The dog was not in bad condition, and still wore the collar and chain on him when lost, but it is strange how that dog managed to live for a month in such a sparsely inhabited district as that round about Didcot, at any rate at that time, which is about fifteen years ago.
CHAPTER XXII
Anecdotes About Dogs (Continued)
I have been asked to reproduce a humourous "skit," which appeared in "The Daily Mail" 9th of July, 1897, from the pen of a well-known contributor to that paper. It was headed "A Ladies' Dog Show," and ran as follows: "Seven gentle ladies were yesterday to be observed walking gravely in a circle in Regents Park. They each led a Black Pug by a chain. They walked round and round a ruddy old gentleman with keen blue eyes, a shepherd's smock, and a slouched straw hat. Three partridge feathers stuck out jauntily from the side of the hat. The ladies cast appealing looks at the shepherd, who stared hard at the insignificant little wretches of dogs, one of whom barked all the while, but he did not heed it. The march became quicker; the ladies looked more appealing than ever. A crowd gathered around and observed the strange proceedings with wonder. What was it? they asked. A new system of Pantheistic worship? or a side show from a menagerie? The shepherd put up his hand and the ladies stopped, dead. He threw down his glittering pencil to attract the notice of one of the glossy little Pugs. The Pug snapped. He caught it by the head, and stared hard in its ridiculous little face. The dog chastened by the keen blue eyes, ceased to yelp. The proud proprietor at the other end of the chain, looked as anxious as a criminal in the dock. The other ladies made the most of this moment of respite. They patted their dogs and kissed them, and told them to be good little duckies of doggies, and mamma would be so pleased! One tempted her charge with a biscuit, another with half a crown. The coin was held up above the dog's nose. Doggie jumped, and scrambled and yelped just like any of its human acquaintances. The shepherd looked at each dog in turn, and wrote something in a book, and then seven ladies and seven dogs left the ring. One lady looked pleased, another fairly satisfied and the rest as if somebody had blundered. The Pugs were all indifferent. But the secret was out, there were no mysterious rites of an Esoteric creed. It was a dog show, that of the 'Ladies' Kennel Association.' They have survived their internecine troubles, and have more members than they had before that dramatic split at the Holborn restaurant and boast of more entries at this show than ever they had before. Between seven hundred and eight hundred dogs are staged. At a Ladies' Show it is to be expected that some of the conventionalities will be overthrown. There are, for instance, no men prowling about, with cloth caps, buckskin leggings, and wisps of straw, telling you that their Terrier killed fifty rats in thirty seconds or that 'the Brindled Bull was own sister to the best dawg that was ever bred.' The exhibitors are ladies, elegantly dressed, who sit and listen to the band with their Pugs and Spaniels, on their knees. It is the same with the dogs, there are no sporting dogs, to speak of, though the number is increasing year by year and not half a score of Bull Dogs. Such as there are, a little aristocracy of bone and jowl lie at rest in a distant corner of the tent not deigning to notice the Poodles around. Near them are a few Airedale Terriers. One of them, which would be in its element in a rattling street fight, stretched to the top of its pen, looked over at the 'curled darlings' on the other side, deliberately yawned and turned over again to sleep. There is a whole tent full of Toy Spaniels and other exquisites in upholstered pens. They have ribbons round their necks, and bells and go about two to the pound. The Poodles are curled and shaven and shorn, and decked out with top-knots of coloured ribbons. One which lay asleep was described as a 'Rag and a Bone, and a Hank of Worsted,' Two Poodle puppies, not yet shorn, looked refreshingly unkempt by the side of these ultra-respectable Uncles and Aunts. A litter of Dachshunds resembled lion cubs asleep. The foreign class which is both strong and varied, provided an amusing contrast. In one pen was a huge shaggy 'Balu,' in the next a shivering little 'Mousie Chihuahua,' whatever that may be! 'Balu' could have taken 'Mousie' among his hors d'œuvres before dinner. Chows with big heads and wee twinkling eyes. Borzois trying to twist their legs into geometrical figures; an Esquimo asleep; a vicious Dingo in a cage. St. Bernards which made the tent quiver, when they barked and Bloodhounds sleeping serenely, there being no murderers about, these were the Giants of the show. If not as numerous, certainly they were a more weighty section than the Toy Spaniels. The Princess of Wales was among the exhibitors. If anyone wants to see a good collection of 'Japs' and 'Poms' and 'Skyes' and 'Dachs' and 'Charlies,' so the ladies tenderly call them, at Regents Park, he will find them."
The following related by the late Hon. Grantley Berkeley, strongly illustrative of the sagacity and thinking powers of dogs, may be interesting to some of my readers: "I had a dog called 'Wolf,' at Teffont Mane House, in Wiltshire, and when I fed my tame pheasants and partridges I always took him with me. This dog had seen my caution when I approached the birds and always obeyed my signal to lie down by the gun till I had done feeding them. When the game began to get to an age to stray, a considerable number used to come upon the lawn in front of the windows.
"One afternoon the lawn being, to all appearances, clear of birds, I sent Wolf to hunt a rabbit out of a circular flower bed, for me to shoot. The dog obeyed the sign, but no sooner had he entered the laurels, than he made a sort of snap with his jaws, a thing he always did when he was not pleased, and returned to my heels with rather a sheepish look. The sign to hunt having been repeated the same thing occurred and on his returning to me with a peculiar expression in his face, I went to the laurels to ascertain what hindered his obedience.
"To my great pleasure I found about a dozen young pheasants, into whose presence he was fearful of intruding, so I lay down on the lawn close to the pheasants, and letting him see how pleased I was, caressed him for full five minutes, and then when I retired, did so in a most marked and stealthy manner, which he, close at my heels, immediately adopted. Now suppose some thoughtless or inconsiderate master with such a dog as this had upon his refusal to hunt, beaten or kicked him for disobedience, which would really have deserved the punishment, the sensible dog, or the silly man?
"On taking up my residence at Beacon Lodge, and, for years after, Wolf was still in or out of the house, my constant companion and closely observant of all I did or desired. When first the wild white rabbits began to appear at Beacon, I never shot them, but very frequently killed the brown ones by their side. In hunting any outlying place, if by chance there was a white rabbit, I used to stop Wolf from hunting it up to my gun, and by observation the dog convinced himself that a rabbit so coloured was on no account to be molested. When the whites had become more common, one evening I went out to kill some rabbits for the table, or to give away, and seeing a very fine young white one, I shot it. The rabbit lay dead on the contrary side of a fence, and Wolf had not seen it killed, but at a sign from me, flew over to pick up whatever might be there. The rabbit lay kicking with its hinder legs, and Wolf seeing the motion in the grass, dashed up, but instantly made the snap with his jaws, dropped his stern and came back with a sheepish look, as if to tell me I had done wrong. I praised and made much of him, and taking him with me up to the rabbit encouraged him to pick it up and to give it to me, and ever after he would pick up any coloured rabbit that might be killed.
"Wolf's dinner hour was at my dessert time, the last thing the retiring servants had to do was to place his plate upon the hearthrug. Occasionally they neglected to do this, and then he had seen me ring the bell, to rectify the omission. For some years before his death, when his dinner was due, and had not been brought in, after looking at me with a wistful expression of countenance, he would go up and kiss the bell handle, and then come to me, look up in my face, and push my arm with his nose. Of course, up came his dinner, with a ring from the bell, denoting double quick time."
More than forty years since, there was a London street dog which took a great fancy to following the fire engines. Whenever there was a fire there would the dog be seen running in and out among the throng apparently making himself as busy as possible. This strange conduct of the animal, of course, attracted the attention of the firemen, and after a time they used to feed and take notice of him, occasionally giving him a ride on the engine. At last, so well was the dog known that he came to be called the Fireman's Dog. He owned no master, but stopped a day or two with any of the firemen he took a fancy to. He was always on the alert, directly the fire alarm was given, and used frequently to run by the side of the horses for miles together. At last the dog on one of the journeys, was run over and killed, when the firemen had his body stuffed and set up in a glass case in the principal office of the Metropolitan fire brigade, Watling street, London. There it remained for some years, and numbers of people called to see him in his glass case.
In 1853 the Superintendent of the Fire Station, Chandos street, Covent Garden, was for some neglect of duty degraded to the rank of an ordinary fireman. This disgrace so preyed on the poor fellow's mind, that one winter's night he threw himself over Waterloo Bridge and was drowned. He left a widow and children totally unprovided for, and in order to procure a sum for their relief, the glass case containing the stuffed figure of the Fireman's Dog was disposed of by way of lottery. A raffle took place at a tavern in Chandos street, when upwards of a hundred pounds was realised. The dog was won by the tavern-keeper, and in his parlour it may still be seen. Thus you see that long after death the dog has been found useful to his masters in time of need.
The following account of a dog, for many years known as "The Brighton Coach Dog," is cut from an old newspaper of the time. "For a long period a dog invariably accompanied the only coach which in 1851 ran between London and Brighton. On the 24th June, in that year, he was placed on the back of the coach to prevent his barking at the horses, when he jumped off at Henfield and fell between the wheels, one of which, passing over his back, killed him. The animal belonged to an ostler at the Newcastle Place stables, Edgeware Road, London; he went to the yard when a puppy and the man took care of him.
"Being brought up amongst horses, he was never happy unless with them at home, or travelling about. His chief delight was to travel up and down with the Brighton coach. He had been known to travel, during the last spring of his life, for eight successive days to and from Brighton, Sundays intervening.
"The distance from London to Brighton by way of Leatherhead, Dorking, Horsham and Henfield, the road which the stage coach traversed is seventy-four miles. It was with great difficulty he could be kept on the coach, always preferring to run by the side of it and it was his being placed on the top of the coach, from feelings of humanity on the part of Clarke, the coachman, which cost him his life.
"On one occasion the guard placed him inside the coach, when there were no passengers, but in a few minutes he was surprised to see him running beside the coach, having jumped clean through the glass window.
"During the early part of the summer he went with a strange coach to Tunbridge Wells, not liking his berth he did not return to London by the same conveyance, but found his way across the country from Tunbridge Wells to Brighton and went up to London with his favourite team.
"He was well known by many on the road from London to Brighton, and in some places on the journey met with hospitable treatment. At the time of his death he was about five years old. Clarke informed us that he would kill a goose on his travels by the roadside, throw it over his back like a fox, and run for miles, and he offered to lay a wager that the dog would accompany the coach between Brighton and London daily for a month, Sundays excepted, and kill a goose by the roadside each day of his travels, provided birds were put within his reach. His skin was preserved, and has been stuffed. The 'Brighton Coach Dog' may be seen in the attitude of life in the bar parlour of a tavern in the Edgeware Road."
I do not think I mentioned, when speaking of my kennels, and dogs, that for many years, an old Great Western Railway coach formed part of them, it was composed of a first-class, second-class, third-class compartments, and a luggage van, as a general rule, we had a pair of dogs, male and female, in each division, and used the luggage van for biscuits.
As some of my readers may like to try the same experiment, I may say that there is no difficulty in the way, there are usually railway coaches of different sizes (I believe, you can also purchase horse boxes and trucks, which often serve the purpose of cow and poultry and cart and trap sheds) for sale at Swindon, where I bought mine for five pounds.
Of course, it was merely the body, without any of the iron under part, but with the windows, doors, seats, ventilators, etc., no cushions or upholstery of any kind, but the only expense I had to incur was to get the village smith to fix some small iron bars on the outside of each window frame, to enable us to open the windows to give plenty of air, without the fear of the inmates getting out. The company delivered free to their nearest station, which in my case was within two miles from my place, and I there had a trolly and pair of horses, and the coach run on to it and lashed firmly to the trolly and it was brought without much difficulty as the weight was only about thirty-five hundredweight, although it looked a heavy affair.
There was more time and trouble in fixing it in its place in my yard, than in the journey there. And some years afterwards when I changed my residence, I got the village smith to fix an axle and a couple of low strong wheels at each end of the coach, and one of the neighbouring farmers easily took it along the road to my new dwelling place, with a couple of his cart horses, to the great amusement and delight of the rural population, who insisted that each of the divisions was filled with some of my dogs, which were well known in the district as being frequent prize winners.
The following is related on the authority of an old newspaper called the "Boston Traveller," published in the United States of America: A gentleman stopping at an hotel in Boston, privately hid his pocket handkerchief behind the sofa cushion in the coffee room and left the hotel accompanied by his dog, after walking for some distance, he suddenly stopped and said to his dog, "I have left my handkerchief at the hotel, go back and fetch it for me," giving no particular directions about it. The dog immediately returned at full speed, and entered the room his master had just left. He went directly to the sofa, but the handkerchief was gone. He jumped upon tables and counters, but it was nowhere to be seen. It turned out that a friend of his master's had discovered it and supposing it had been left by mistake, had taken care of it for the owner. But "Tiger" was not to be foiled. He flew about the room, apparently much excited, in quest of the "lost or stolen." Soon, however, he was upon the track, he scented it to the gentleman's coat pocket. What was to be done? The dog had no means of asking for it, by word of mouth, and was not accustomed to picking pockets, and besides the gentleman was ignorant of his business with him. But Tiger's sagacity did not suffer him to remain long in suspense. He seized the skirt containing the prize and furiously tearing it from the coat, hastily made off with it, much to the surprise of the owner. Tiger then overtook his master, and restored the lost property. Both the owner of the dog and the gentleman who had lost the tail of his coat, applauded the dog for his sagacity.
In the southeast window of St. Mary's church, Lambeth, there is the full length figure of a pedlar with his pack, his staff and dog. This is the portrait of the unknown man who gave "Pedlar's Acre" to the parish of Lambeth. The story is worth telling. In the year 1504, a poor pedlar passing over a piece of waste ground near the river sat down to rest on the trunk of a tree. While seated here, he noticed that his dog acted very strangely, busying himself with scratching the earth with his feet and barking, and smelling about, every now and then running up to his master and looking him earnestly in the face and trying to drag him from his seat. The pedlar did not at first pay much attention to the dog, but its repeated barking and running to and fro compelled him, at last, to see what the animal wanted. Going to where the dog had been scratching he was surprised to find something shining below. Digging on the spot he discovered a large sum of money with part of which he purchased the land originally known as Pedlar's Acre, but now called the Belvidere Road, in Lambeth.
Maitland, the historian of London, (1739 edition, page 791) tells the story as I have given it with the addition that the pedlar left the piece of land to the parish on condition that his portrait and that of his dog should be perpetually preserved in painted glass in one of the windows of the church. I cannot say whether this be true or not, but such is the legend, and there is the painted window with the portrait of the man and dog, as evidence still remaining.
The following story about a Mastiff appeared in the Glasgow Chronicle: Early one Sunday morning some thieves attempted to enter the premises of Messrs. McLeod and Pollock, Argyle street, Glasgow, jewellers, by breaking through the sky-light. The building was one story high and it was comparatively easy to get on to the roof. About two o'clock a. m. Mr. McLeod, who resided in the back of the premises, was awakened by the action of his watch dog. The animal did not bark, but jumped upon the bed and continued scratching with his forepaws until his master rose up. The dog then uttered a low growl and looked towards the roof, as if anxious to draw his master's attention to that particular quarter. Immediately afterwards a small piece of glass fell on the floor, and on Mr. McLeod looking up he could see a man furtively moving on the roof; the police were informed and effected an arrest of the intruding burglar, through the warning given by the dog and before he had time to conceal himself or make good his retreat.
CHAPTER XXIII
Anecdotes About Dogs (Continued)
In Mr. St. John's "Highland Sports," there is the following characteristic anecdote of a shepherd's dog: "A shepherd, a neighbour of mine, to prove the quickness of his dog, who was lying before the fire in the farmhouse kitchen where we were talking, one day, said to me in the middle of a conversation about quite a different matter, 'I'm thinking, sir, the cow's got into the potatoes,' though he purposely laid no stress on these words, and said them in a quiet, unconcerned tone of voice, the dog, who appeared to be asleep, immediately jumped up, leaped through the open window and scrambled up the turf roof of the house, from which he could see the potato field. Not seeing her there, he then ran into the farm yard, and finding her there, all right, came back to the house. After a time the shepherd said the same words again, and the dog repeated his look out, but on the false alarm being given a third time, the dog got up and wagging his tail, looked his master full in the face with such a comical expression of inquiry, that we could not refrain from laughing heartily, on which with a slight growl he laid himself down again to sleep in his accustomed place on the hearth rug, with an offended air, as if determined not to be made a fool of again."
Most people who know anything about dogs, or doggy people, know Mr. George Raper, one of the most popular and capable all-round judges we have, but they do not all know what a very lively and active man he is. In my long experience as an exhibitor, I have often found myself in his company in different parts of the country, and usually he has had some good story to tell, or amusing thing to do. I remember, on one occasion, when we and a number more were staying at an hotel in South Wales, I forget now whether it was Haverfordwest, Pembroke or Tenby, but I think it was one of those three, how he astonished an old gentleman (not the least doggy or sporting in his appearance), by his agility. We were talking in the bar parlour of the hotel about vaulting, and in the room there was the ordinary high and wide pewter covered counter, or bar. I said, "I suppose you would not attempt to negotiate such an article as that?" Mr. Raper said, "I should have a good try at it," and without saying more, he stepped back, placed his hand on the centre of the counter, vaulted over, and then vaulted back again; the old gentleman, who was sitting down quietly having some refreshment, jumped up and said, "Bless my heart and soul, sir, I never saw such a thing done in my life!" which made us all laugh heartily.
Captain Brown, in his "Popular Natural History," tells the following story of those formerly much to be pitied animals, the dogs utilized as "Turnspits." "The Duke de Leancourt had for the work in his kitchen two Turnspits, which took their turns, regularly, every other day in the wheel (something after the style of the revolving cages for squirrels and mice). One of them not liking his employment, hid himself on the day it was his turn to work, when they tried to force his companion to mount the wheel in his stead, he cried, and wagging his tail, intimated to those in authority to follow him. He at once conducted them to an upstairs lumber room, where he dislodged the idle dog, and gave him a good thrashing on the spot."
In Mr. Baker's "Rifle and Hound in Ceylon," he says: "I was once shooting at Illepecadewè, which is a lonely, miserable spot, when I met with a very sagacious and independent sportsman in a most unexpected manner. I was shooting with a friend and we had separated for a few hundred paces. Presently I came upon a lot of Pea fowl and killed one of them with my rifle. The shot was no sooner fired than I heard another shot in the jungle, in the direction taken by my friend. My rifle was still unloaded when a spotted doe bounded out of the jungle, followed by a white Pariah dog in full chase. Who would have dreamt of meeting with a dog at a distance of more than three or four miles from any houses! I whistled to the dog, and to my surprise he came to me, the deer having, meanwhile, run clean out of sight in an incredibly short space of time. He was a knowing looking brute, and evidently out hunting on his own account. Just at this moment, my friend called out to me that he had wounded a buck, and had found the blood-stained track. I picked a blade of grass from the spot, which was tinged with blood, and holding it to the dog's nose, he eagerly followed me to the track, upon which I dropped it.
"He went off in a moment, but running mute I was obliged to follow, and after a run of over half a mile, I lost sight of him. In following the track of the wounded buck I heard the distant barking of a dog, by which I knew he had brought him to bay, and I was soon at the spot. The buck had taken up a position in a small glade, and was charging furiously at the dog, but he was a great deal too knowing to court the danger and kept well out of the way. I shot the buck, and tying a piece of jungle rope to the dog's neck, gave him to a gunbearer to lead as I hoped he might be again useful in hunting up a wounded deer. I had not proceeded more than half a mile when we arrived at the edge of a small sluggish stream, covered in most places with rushes and waterlilies.
"We waded through this about up to our hips, but the gunbearer, who had the dog with him, could not prevail upon our mute companion to follow; he pulled violently back and shrank and showed every sign of terror as he approached the water. I had now got over and was on the opposite bank, but as nothing could induce the dog to voluntarily come near the river, I told the gunbearer to drag him across by force. This he accordingly did, and the dog swam with frantic exertions across the river and managed to slip his head out of the jungle rope by which he was held. The moment he arrived on terra firma, he rushed up a steep bank and looked attentively down into the water beneath. We now gave him credit for his sagacity in refusing to cross the dangerous passage.
"The reeds bowed down to the right and left as a huge crocodile of about eighteen feet in length moved slowly from his shallow bed into a deep hole. The dog turned to the right about and ran off as fast as his legs would carry him. No calling or whistling would induce him to return and I never saw him again. How he knew that a large crocodile lay concealed in the river I do not know, he probably had a previous unpleasant experience of those creatures, and seemed determined to profit by the lesson he had learnt. Making use of the experience I had gained in wild sports in the country, I came out well armed, according to my ideas of weapons for the chase. I had four double-barrelled rifles made specially to my order and my own pattern, my hunting knives and boar spear heads were also made to my own design and I arrived in Ceylon with a fine pack of Foxhounds, and 'Bran,' a favourite greyhound of wonderful speed and strength. The usual drawbacks and discomforts attending upon a new settlement having been overcome, Newera Ellia formed a pleasant place of residence. I soon, however, discovered that Foxhounds were not at all adapted to a country so enclosed by forest, some of the hounds were lost, others I parted with, and their progeny, crossed with Pointers, Bloodhounds and other breeds, have proved a useful stamp for Elk hunting.
"It is difficult to form a pack for this sport which shall be perfect in all respects. Sometimes a splendid hound in character may be more like a butcher's dog in appearance, but the pack cannot afford to part with him if he has really proved his value in work. The casualties from Leopards, Wild Boars, Elks and lost dogs are so great that the pack is with extreme difficulty kept up by breeding.
"It must be borne in mind that the place of a lost dog cannot be easily supplied in Ceylon! Newera Ellia is one of the few places in the island where the climate is suited to the constitution of a dog. In the low and hot climates they lead a short and miserable life, which is soon ended by the inevitable liver complaint; thus, if a supply for the pack cannot be kept up by breeding, hounds must be procured from England from time to time, and this, it is needless to say, is attended with much risk and great expense."
On one of the last occasions I exhibited my dogs at Maidstone show, in Kent, I was rather amused by a conversation I had with the secretary there. He said, "whenever I see you, sir, I think of your Dog." I asked what dog he referred to? He said, "one of your Dandies, I think he was a champion, (I forget whether it was Champion Rob Roy, or Champion Laird, but think it must have been the former). You had to leave before the end of the show, which was very unusual with you, sir, and you asked me to see your dogs packed; I was out in the building where all the boxes and baskets were, when I heard a crackling noise, and, looking towards the place, saw a dog's head, and directly afterwards his body, come out of one of the hampers, and saw the dog walk across the building, and search amongst the packages, when he had found the one he wanted, he lifted up the lid with his nose, jumped in and lay down; I at once went over to see what name and number was on the package, and found that one of your dogs had been put, by an oversight, into a wrong basket, and as he found out it was not the proper one, he ate his way out, searched for and found his correct travelling basket, and lay down in it, ready to be sent home. I thought this was so smart and intelligent of the dog that I have never forgotten it, and have often mentioned it to my friends, who are interested in dogs."
The following about the dog, which appeared in the "Arcana of Science" in 1829, just seventy years ago, may be interesting to some of my readers at the present day: "The dog is the only animal that dreams, he and the elephant the only animals that understand looks and expressions; the elephant is the only four-footed animal that feels ennui; the dog the only quadruped which has been brought to speak. Professor Leibnitz, in Saxony, bore witness to a hound, he had heard speak thirty words distinctly."
I am inclined to doubt the speaking faculty of the dog, though I have certainly seen many animals that could do almost everything, but speak.
Buffon, the eminent French naturalist, says of the dog, "More docile than man, more obedient than any other animal, he is not only instructed in a short time, but also conforms to the manners and dispositions of those who have authority over him. He takes his tone from the house he inhabits, like the rest of the domestic staff, he is disdainful among the great and churlish among the clowns. Always assiduous in serving his master, and only friendly to his friends; he is indifferent to all others and declares himself openly against such as are dependent like himself. He knows a beggar by his voice, by his clothes or his gestures and challenges his approach. When, at night, or other occasions, the protection of the house is entrusted to his care, he seems proud of the charge, he continues a vigilant sentinel, he goes his rounds, scents strangers at a distance and gives them warning he is upon duty. If they attempt to break in upon his territory, he becomes more fierce, flies at them, threatens, fights, and either conquers alone or alarms those who have most at interest in coming to his assistance, however, when he has conquered, he quickly reposes, and abstains from what he has prevented others from abusing, giving thus, at once, a lesson of courage, temperance and fidelity."
I think it was in May, 1881, I sustained one of my severest losses in connection with dogs. I was at that time owner of a very well-known and high class, all white, medium-sized Bull Bitch, which I called "Lady Rozelle" (her portrait appears in one of the illustrations to this book, as well as that of my Smooth Collie Bitch, "Lady Nellie," even more celebrated in her own line) and had taken a great number of prizes at all the leading shows. I was anxious to take just one more, the gold medal of the Bull Dog Club. She had already taken both the bronze and silver medals, and I then intended her to rest on her laurels, as I have always endeavoured to let any of my great prize winners end their days in peace and comfort, free from the fatigue and excitement of shows and never like to see animals which have done good service for their owners, hacked about in Variety and Selling classes, all over the country. The weather when I travelled to Aldridge's, St. Martin's Lane, where the Bull Dog Club's show was to be held, was very warm and sultry, and on arrival at Paddington, I had her box put on the roof of a cab and run over to the show, but on its being opened there, as it happened, by my old friend, Mr. J. W. Berrie, then, as now, the president of the Bull Dog Club, I think everyone present was horrified to find my beautiful bitch actually stone dead, and from the appearance of the body, should think the heat must have brought on an apoplectic seizure and death must have been very sudden. Of course, as is usual in such cases, I had someone at the time anxious to purchase her at, what was then thought, a very long price, £250.
Dogs have played important parts in the superstitions of ages now happily passed away. When the dog howled at the gate, it used to be alleged that one of the family was to die. Old women suspected of being witches because they were infirm and stricken with poverty were supposed to always have either a cat or dog, said to be their "Familiar" and through whom they could be enabled to commune with the Spirit of Darkness. To meet a black dog on a dark or stormy night was deemed a very unlucky sign; dogs were said to be possessed by evil spirits, and to haunt the wicked and in more than one story the evil one himself has been stated to have taken the form of the faithful friend and companion of man. I will conclude these anecdotes about dogs with the following excellent advice given by the late well-known sportsman, the Hon. Grantley Berkeley, in the pages of "The Field," more than forty years since: "Before you chastise a dog, be not only sure that he is in fault, but also ascertain that he himself understands in what respect he has done wrong. Take care not to punish him so severely that terror and pain combined obliterate the why and the wherefore from the sufferer's recollection, if you do, you cowe the dog, without amending his manners. To teach tricks to dogs, (in the general way, and, unless they are dogs belonging to those whose living is to be earned by the employment of performing dogs,) either with cards, numbers, or letters, is infinitely beneath a sportsman, as well as insulting to the useful and thinking capabilities of the canine race!"
CHAPTER XXIV
A Few Words About General Management and Some Simple Maladies, to Which Dogs are Subject, and Their Treatment
These few practical directions and suggestions are not intended to take the place of the veterinary surgeon, whose skill and experience are often of the greatest value in dealing with cases of a serious nature, but just to give inexperienced persons some idea what to do, in case of emergency; as, in all cases of illness or accidents to animals, immediate treatment is often most important.
I may say that a "bond of sympathy" should exist between an owner or keeper, and his dogs, and when this is the case, it will be much easier to deal with them, either in health or sickness, but particularly the latter.
I believe more trouble is caused by mismanagement than any other cause, and that if only proper attention be paid to the three cardinal points of "cleanliness, food and exercise," there will not be much the matter with the inmates of the kennel.
I have, for a great number of years, kept a small lot of dogs, varying in number from fifteen to fifty, but although accidents will be constantly occurring with live stock of all kinds, I have had wonderfully little illness, amongst my dogs, except the ordinary ailments so generally expected, and I attribute this mainly to endeavouring to enforce cleanliness and plenty of exercise, and providing food varying in character and quantity to suit the appetites of the inmates.
I may say, while on the subject of food, that although in winter, or very cold weather, it is well it should be given "with the chill off," it is better not to let it be warm, in a general way, as it is thought unnatural for dogs, and tends to weaken their digestive powers.
Also except in cases of packs of hounds, where it is unavoidable, (but they are generally accompanied by some of the kennel men, and attendants to avoid undue "differences of opinion,") it is best, not to feed two or more dogs together, as often the stronger member will overpower the weaker, and perhaps consume more than his or her share; you will notice this, even amongst puppies.
An owner, or keeper will soon get to know the right amount to give each, and give just as much as will be finished at the time, when the pan should be removed, or washed out, and filled with water, if benched alone, not otherwise, or it may be upset in the course of play, etc.
Except in cases of bitches with families or puppies by themselves when two or more meals may be given, it is usual to feed once a day either morning or evening as most convenient, giving each as much as they will eat, with appetite, the oftener varied the better, as I said in the "Introduction."
Unless any difficulty occurs, at the birth of the puppies, when skilled assistance should be obtained, the less the bitch is disturbed the better, but a few days afterwards it is well to examine the litter, and destroy any deformed or faulty ones, and if she has more than she can reasonably bring up, to put some of them under a "foster mother," which are frequently advertised in the papers dealing with dogs and doggy matters, if not procurable in your own district, in such case, it is best not to take away all the foster litter at once, but introduce the new-comers (in the absence of the "Foster,") amongst her remaining puppies, and mix them up, together, so that they will smell alike, and gradually weed out those not desired to be kept.
After three weeks old, the puppies should be given bread and milk, which will help the mothers in their nursing, and about this time if a breed which requires their tails to be shortened, a part may be taken off, with a strong pair of scissors, not too sharp, feeling for a joint, before making the cut, and if carefully done, it causes but momentary pain, and soon heals up.
At six weeks old, they may be removed from the mother, altogether, and if she seems at all troubled with milk, occasionally squeeze out any milk, with the finger and thumb, and dress the teats with vinegar and water, which generally prevents swelling or inflammation, and helps to dry off the milk.
I need not say that the stories sometimes heard about dogs having a "worm under the tongue," which must be taken out, are all humbug, and should not be credited.
Sometimes dogs' claws, when not sufficiently exercised, grow too long and require to be shortened, but this is easily done with a sharp pair of "nippers."
Putting a piece of stone sulphur in the water is no good, as being a mineral, it does not dissolve, and you might just as well put a lump of coal in! But, as I said before, a little "Flowers of Brimstone," according to the size of the animal, either mixed in milk, or with its food, is beneficial and has a cooling effect, and I sometimes add a small quantity of magnesia, with the same object.
Above everything, see that the place where the dog lives is dry, warm in winter and free from draughts.
I think dogs kept in a house as pets are more liable to disease, than those kept in kennels, from often having no regular meals or rules, but constantly being fed by many people, and so getting more than they require of food, but much less of exercise.
Chicken and game bones are not desirable for dogs, as they break into sharp splinters which when swallowed may cause injury to the intestines, but other bones are occasionally very good for dogs, and much enjoyed by them; and when at liberty they will take grass, which, as with cats, is very useful for their digestion.
Most dogs are troubled with fleas, and some with ticks and other small insects, particularly in the summer. I have found an occasional washing, with a weak solution of "Jeye's Purifier," (procurable of any chemist, or stores, with full directions on the bottles), makes a great improvement in this respect, and if the breed of the animal is small, or it is one kept indoors, it may have an occasional combing with a small tooth comb, having a basin of boiling water at hand, to put the "results" in.
In all treatment of a sick dog, remember you are dealing with a highly sensitive and nervous patient, be very gentle, avoid roughness, or anything likely to alarm him; in giving any liquid medicine, do not open his mouth, but placing him between your knees with his face looking in same direction as your own, gently raise his jaw, and pulling his lips away from his teeth, on one side of his mouth, to form a cup, or funnel, very slowly pour from bottle or spoon, the quantity he is to have, into it. Keep his head raised for a minute or two, and if he does not swallow the dose, insert a spoon between his front teeth, this will have the effect of drawing off his attention from the medicine, and he will, usually, swallow at once. If the dose is a pill, bolus, or anything solid, hold his head the same way as before mentioned, but with the left hand under lower jaw, press firmly on each side with thumb and finger at the junction of upper and lower jaws. This will usually cause him to open his mouth, when the dose should be put into the mouth, as far back as possible, over the tongue (or he will spit it out) and close the jaws somewhat sharply, and in most cases the deed is done. If any trouble arises with the action of his front paws, this may be got over by wrapping him round with a shawl, or coarse apron. When once you have got into the way of it, you will be surprised how simple it is. I am quite sure a practised owner or kennelsman, would dose a dozen dogs, while a novice was making a bungle over one!
Distemper carries off scores of dogs every year, but it is quite a mistake to suppose all dogs must have it. I have had, probably, more without than with it, the worst of it is that it varies so in different cases, so that the same treatment does not do for all; sometimes the brain, at others, the stomach, at others, the lungs, are most affected; it is of an inflammatory and very debilitating character, and frequently accompanied by severe convulsions and fits, which are very alarming and distressing. Generally, there is discharge from nose and eyes, but not invariably. I am doubtful if there is any positive and unfailing cure for the complaint, although so many claim to be, so much depends on the form the disease takes, the treatment given, and the constitution of the patient. The symptoms comprise great depression, debility, want of life and appetite, and great languor; as medicine, two or three grains of calomel in milk may be given; if possible, get the patient to drink it which he sometimes will, being feverish from the nature of the disease; sometimes a small dose of "James's Powders," administered in same way, has a good effect. For food, anything light and nourishing, such as thickish gruel, or good broth, or bovril, may be given. The old adage, that prevention is better than cure holds good here, and young dogs not fed too highly, and occasionally dosed with Epsom salts or jalap, when their bowels are out of order, or their eyes look unnatural, not given much meat while young, and kept from going into the water at too early an age, will often ward off this scourge of the race.
Dogs are sometimes troubled with Skin affections such as mange and eczema, both are thought to have their origin in errors in feeding and particularly in the former, from want of due attention to cleanliness. I have found the following, which we have always kept ready for use, to apply a little if required, a certain cure, if persevered with. Equal quantities of train oil and paraffin and a tablespoonful of black sulphur to each quart of the mixture applied freely to the affected parts, every other day with a piece of sponge. If the attack is very slight, a little sulphur ointment made by mixing sufficient Flowers of Sulphur, with hog's lard, to make a fairly firm ointment, and rub on this two or three times a week, where the cause arises. A small dose of Epsom salts will be beneficial.
Canker in the ear is troublesome, particularly with the breeds having large ears, a little alum and water is advised as a wash for the ears, into which it should be poured, and the flaps closed over and rubbed gently; but I have personally found a little "Hippacea" (procurable at most chemists), which is a rather moist ointment, rubbed inside the affected parts, give much relief.
Fits are often caused, either by distemper or worms, they are always alarming, particularly when they take place away from the kennels or home, in such case I either borrow from someone at hand, or send for, a hamper, or box, and get the patient home as soon as possible; as perfect quiet and repose are very important, merely sprinkling a little cold water on his face and placing him in some place, with plenty of straw, or shavings, where he cannot hurt himself by falling about, as he is quite unconscious for the time being and not accountable for his actions. When able to take medicine, give such treatment as the cause of the fits require, they are usually those I mentioned, but when caused by extreme debility, as with an overtaxed nursing mother, they are very serious. In any case of fits, where good professional advice can be obtained and the patient is a pet, or valuable, it is better not to attempt to deal with it without.
Asthma is supposed to arise from errors in feeding, but it is certain some breeds of dogs are more liable to it than others. Light nourishing diet, very moderate exercise, and a little opening medicine will certainly have a good effect, but it is a difficult complaint to get rid of when once it makes its appearance.
Diarrhoea sometimes occurs with dogs from inattention to dietary matters, but they more often suffer from the other extreme. A little Epsom salts in water, or thin gruel, will often work the desired end, but if the dog seems still in pain, ten or fifteen drops of tincture of opium may be given in water.
Eye affections are not uncommon with some breeds, but the eye is such a tender and delicate organ to meddle with that I prefer to advise any of my readers, who may have a patient suffering in that way, to call in the best advice they can procure, than to give them any directions.
Wounds, whether incised or contused, are rather awkward for a novice to deal with, and if he does so, he had better muzzle the patient, both to prevent being bitten and to keep the bandage, plaster or poultice from being torn off; of course in the former case, the affected part must be gently washed with cold water, and the blood staunched with lint or otherwise, and if possible tightly bandaged, and closing the edges of the wound keep them together with sticking plaster, binding all round with lint.
In contused wounds apply and frequently change a bread poultice, large enough to take in all the injured parts and keep the patient as quiet as possible, and maintain his strength with light nourishing diet, of a more hearty character.
This is not a "Kennel Guide" (although I hope it may teach some of my readers something they did not know in a rough and ready way) and there are, in almost every district in the kingdom, as I know from actual experience, having met scores of them in the course of my doggy travels, highly qualified gentlemen, practising as veterinary surgeons, who have made a lifelong study of the diseases, and calamities, to which dogs, as well as their owners, are liable.
I think I have now said a little about all the many breeds suitable, or likely to be kept as companions or pets, and sufficient for my book to form a vade-mecum, or guide, to anyone in doubt, as to what sort of dog to choose for the purpose, and this was the original idea which prompted the commencement of the work.
The illustrations herein are from life, the subjects being mostly typical specimens, and are introduced to show good types of some of the least common, or every day breeds. From the remarks often overheard at exhibitions and elsewhere, it has greatly surprised me how many persons have only a vague idea of all but the most ordinary varieties.
Thinking over matters and things even to compile a work of this kind, has brought back to mind many forgotten incidents concerning both people and animals, and I have derived much pleasure in the course of it. I am in hopes, if the book falls into the hands of any, who have hitherto known, or cared nothing for dogs of any kind, they may be sufficiently interested in my recital, of the charming qualities of so many different varieties, to take up one or more of them, and test the truth of my statements, which I may say are founded on fact, and a very lengthened and practical experience as a breeder, exhibitor and now for many years as a judge, during which time I believe I have kept most, and adjudicated on all, known varieties of dogs, and on most of the breeds very often indeed.
And considering the many thousands of dogs, which have come under my notice, I am bound to say, on the whole, I have not had much to complain of, in my treatment by the exhibitors, which have often included Her Majesty the Queen, a well-known lover of animals, and other members of the Royal Family, as well as leading members of the nobility and gentry, and very many of the middle, lower and working classes.
And, I hope, the reason has been that as far as lay in my power, I have tried to serve all alike, that is, to regard the dogs, and not their owners or leaders, as the sole matter to be dealt with, and where exhibitors recognise this in a judge, as a rule, his classes are well filled.
I think, I have said enough, in this chapter, to justify its title, and, I hope, to form a fitting "wind-up," for my little work, as "All about Dogs."