His ears were cocked and pointed. Their backs had been shaved that very morning, and the pink blood coursed through them freely.
The doctor was reading a newspaper and occasionally the dog would give it a poke with his nose, to intimate that the man ought to stop and talk to him.
The doctor and his wife had no children and they always referred to Pep as “the boy.”
Arrived at the New York Central, Pep and his master took a taxi for Madison Square. Once they were fairly within this great arena, Pep thought it the most exciting place he had ever even dreamed of.
Such a host of dogs he had not thought the world contained. There were large dogs and small dogs, short-haired dogs and long-haired dogs, excited dogs and complacent dogs, but most all were excited. A dog had to have a pretty good opinion of himself to keep his head in such a place as this. Such a chorus of yelping and barking, growling and whining greeted them as they walked down the main street that Pep did not know whether to be joyous or angry. For the life of him he could not tell whether it was only just play, or the preliminary to a great fight.
If the men did really loose all these dogs and they should fly at one another’s throats, he made up his mind that he would get a good hold on the throat of a bulldog who had growled at him as he passed, and not let go until the cross fellow had apologized.
Presently they stopped before a man in a small booth, who asked a lot of tiresome questions about Pep. He wanted his age, weight, breeding and many more facts, which the master patiently gave him.
Finally Pep was given a number, 223, and they passed along.
They passed by St. Bernard street, Newfoundland street, Collie street and finally down to the smaller dogs, until they came to the terriers, where they located permanently in Bull Terrier street. There were about forty dogs here, tied in a double row, with a broad walk between the rows. Here the master tied Pep in his own stall and told him to be a good dog, and went to look for some friends.
For the first five minutes the dogs in Bull Terrier street were very disrespectful to Pep and called him all the bad names in the dog dictionary, but seeing how goodnatured he was, they soon ceased their jollying and asked him where he came from, what his master’s name was, and what his name was. Presently he was on speaking terms with the dogs on either side of him.