TO GIVE HIS PAW.
There is scarcely a boy’s pet dog who has not acquired this very simple trick, though his master probably would not recollect how it was taught. Perhaps it was the dog’s sociable feelings that led him to perform the kindly ceremony of “shaking hands,” or perhaps it was due to the instinctive good breeding which is sometimes accredited to some people—and why not also to some dogs? Whether politeness is a grace which adorns the canine character, however, is a question we hardly feel prepared to discuss, and it is much more probable that Master Harry, (or James, or whatever his name may be), with no special thought in regard to the matter, hit upon the secret which underlies all animal training—compelling obedience to a command until the command is obeyed without compulsion. What was more natural for our friend Harry, when he first gave the momentous command of “paw,” and Carlo utterly in the dark as to its signification, taking no notice of it—than to grip Carlo’s fore “limb” and give it a shake? Nothing in the world more natural. This is probably repeated at odd times until Carlo learns to give his paw when Harry says “paw,” or holds out his paw.
If the same paw is always given, as it will be if during the training that one be always taken, the dog may be taught to offer the other one when you ask for the “other paw,” by merely taking it a few times when you make the request. By using “paw” for one and “other paw” for the other—“paw” first—the dog will seldom get them confused. It is preferable and makes the performance seem better, while it is really no more difficult, if the words “right” and “left” are used in connection with the commands. It is just as easy for a dog to learn the difference between “right paw” and “left paw,” as between “paw” and “other paw.” It is well to lay extra stress upon “right” and “left” while training, and these words should be pronounced very distinctly. Should the dog offer the wrong paw merely repeat your former command until he changes it, then take it in your hand, call him “good dog,” and pat his head to let him know he has done right.
A little boy of our acquaintance had a very handsome Newfoundland dog, and having often heard the family physician desire members of the family to let him feel their pulse, he thought it would be a capital idea, and having coaxed the cook to give him some choice bits of beef-steak, he commenced practice. “Let me feel your pulse, Bruno,” says he, and taking Bruno’s paw in his fingers he imitated the doctor with a comical childish assumption of professional gravity. He scarcely intended, when he commenced, to make Bruno offer his pulse for examination at his desire, but Bruno was an intelligent dog and the beef-steak was very good, and before long he would stick his paw out as nicely as could be desired. Our little friend, delighted with the result of his efforts, lost no opportunity of showing off Bruno’s accomplishment, and the dog was continually holding out his “pulse” for the examination of visitors. The doctor calling some time after was somewhat amused at our little friend’s request to Bruno to “let the doctor feel your pulse,” and Bruno’s ready compliance therewith.
We had a half-grown puppy of one of the larger breeds some years since, which by constant training became so used to offering his paw that he would do so to visitors or others without being ordered to. One day a strange cat intruded upon the premises, and puppy made a rush at it with every token of hostility. When near it, however, habit appeared to gain a mastery, for he held out his paw as usual. The cat being irritated by his previous threatening aspect merely struck at him with her claws, inflicting quite a severe scratch, whereupon puppy, perceiving politeness to be at a discount, pitched in and routed the enemy gallantly.