A Resident's wife in Nigeria

by Constance Belcher Larymore

The feeding of dogs is naturally a great factor in the preservation of their health, and it will require supervision. The main difficulty is to give them sufficient bulk of food without including too much meat; here, we have no fresh potatoes, etc., and porridge becomes rather an expensive article of dietary, as oatmeal costs a shilling for a small tin, which disappears at once! I have been told that two large dogs required a tin of oatmeal and a tin of army rations daily to feed them. I think they must have become very bilious bull-terriers, and a serious item of expense to their owner! We allow threepence a day per dog; this buys a piece of meat and some bone, also a fair quantity of ‘gari’ (native flour). The gari is well boiled with the meat, and appears looking like a brownish sago pudding. The mixture is then flooded with milk and much appreciated by the dogs. Every few days a little powdered sulphur is mixed up with the feed, and is highly beneficial. Afterwards, they get their bones, and the fare seems to suit them admirably. We always make a point of giving our dogs, especially young puppies, weak tea if they will drink it. In India I was told that it would prevent distemper altogether, and, though I cannot vouch for the truth of this, it seems to be a harmless little indulgence, and every mistress will, I expect, like to see the little wistful faces asking ever so plainly for a saucer of tea.

Dogs are all the better for a dose of castor oil about once a week; it improves their appearance and condition immensely, and it is a perfectly simple matter administering it—when one knows how—so a short explanation of the process may not be misplaced here. One person, kneeling down, holds the dog’s body firmly between his knees to prevent him from backing, and, putting his left forefinger gently into the corner of the dog’s lips, pulls out his cheek, forming a sort of pocket into which the oil is gently poured by another person, thus avoiding all forcing open of the teeth and the consequent struggle and horrors of spilt oil. As a rule the patient does not object in the least; the oil quietly filters through his teeth, and down his throat; if he does not seem to be swallowing it readily a little pressure on his nostrils closes them, and compels him to open his throat. When a dog’s coat becomes ‘staring,’ his eyes lustreless, and he appears generally spiritless and feverish, castor oil is indicated, after which quinine must be given—five grains daily is not too much—until he recovers. One of our dogs swallowed a tabloid of quinine, wrapped in a slice of meat, every day, without detecting its presence; but some are tiresome in this respect, and the only alternative is to open their mouths and drop in a salt-spoonful of sulphate of quinine. This they cannot get rid of except by swallowing it, and the bitter taste is soon forgotten in the joy of a rewarding tit-bit of some sort. We had a small fox-terrier who knew the very sight of the quinine bottle, and bolted at once out of the room! The foregoing suggestions, however, are intended only for occasions when the dog’s owner is quite convinced that treatment of this kind is absolutely necessary; failing that, I would most earnestly say, leave drugs alone, merely permit no neglect, for, assuredly, a comfortable dog will be a healthy dog!

Another point of the utmost importance to a dog’s well-being and comfort, is to keep him, as far as possible, free from fleas and ticks. Fleas, I suppose, dogs will have for all time, no matter how carefully they are washed and brushed; the great enemy in Nigeria is the tick. During the rains the grass swarms with them, and, as one cannot walk along a bush path for a hundred yards without finding several of them on one’s skirts, the number acquired by the dogs on a ten minutes’ hunt after a mouse or a lizard can be well imagined. Each dog must be most carefully searched and the pests removed at least twice a day, special care being taken to inspect the inside of his ears, the little ‘pocket’ on them, between his toes, and underneath his collar. There is none so wily as the dog tick in choosing secluded nooks in which to suck his victim’s blood. The inside of the dog’s ears should be smeared over with carbolic or sulphur ointment applied with a feather; both are abhorrent to ticks, and it is really a kindness to rub his whole body lightly with these ointments or a very weak solution of creolin or ‘Jeyes’ Fluid.’ It will be found that flies attack and bite dogs’ ears to a quite serious extent; I have seen native dogs with their ears positively eaten away, but this can, of course, be prevented by persistent care and perseverance. Carbolic or sulphur ointment must be rubbed on thickly, daily, and at night-time, but unless notice is taken of the very first few bites, it is most difficult to effect a cure.

Poultry

The keeping of poultry is certain to become, in the near future, a feature of every English household in Nigeria, therefore the subject may as well have its place in this chapter, though I do not, in the least, feel qualified to offer any ‘counsels of perfection,’ as, so far, we have been able to make only two efforts to introduce English fowls into this country, and I must frankly confess that there are many difficulties in the way of a complete success.

However, the class of fowl bred in the country is such a wretched one, the birds are small, skinny and tasteless, and the eggs no larger than bantams’, that the importation of good breeds is a very real necessity. Here, as in other matters, the periodical leave to England after twelve or eighteen months has prevented the rearing of chickens from being very seriously undertaken, but I have a strong impression that if every one will, at all events, ‘make a start,’ the good work will be carried on, and it will not be long before the miserable ‘country fowl’ is a thing of the past.

My personal experience on the subject of English fowls is as follows:—Five years ago, we brought out four Black Minorca hens and one cock; the latter died shortly after his arrival in Nigeria, but, on our way up country, we had the good luck to be presented with a very fine Plymouth Rock cock. The hens behaved beautifully; they travelled in a large wicker basket, and regularly laid eggs in it during the daily march. A fortnight later, alas! the Plymouth Rock died, and two hens succumbed also, all dying from the same complaint, dysentery. After six months, we brought our remaining two hens back to Lokoja, and they survived for the rest of the tour, but they greatly deteriorated, both in their appearance and in their laying, the eggs diminished in size and lost their flavour.

On our return from leave, we brought a fresh consignment of fowls, and if I call them ‘a mixed lot’ it is not intended altogether as a term of disparagement, for we had purposely selected mixed breeds. A fine Buff Orpington cock with a slight Black Minorca strain, two Black Minorca hens, a handsome Houdan hen, and two highly indiscriminate ‘would-be’ Orpington hens made up the party. Further fortified by an incubator, a kindly gift of Sir Alfred Jones, we fared forth to Bussa, firmly intent on poultry rearing.

This time, our efforts were distinctly successful; in six months our stock of six had increased to twenty-three, and had it not been for the persistent and endless depredations of hawks, we should have reared a far greater number. We found the Houdan an admirable and devoted mother, and her progeny were our delight, so handsome were they, with a slight Orpington strain added to their own beautiful spangles and jet-black crest. Before a year was out all the original hens except one died, quite suddenly and mysteriously, pointing to poisonous food or snake-bite; but still, to-day, I am glad to think that we have distributed four fine English cocks in different parts of the country, and have, at all events, contributed our mite to the all-important task of improving the food supply in this country. It is not in the least sublime to say that empires are built on men’s stomachs, but, indeed, they form a surer foundation than their gravestones to my un-soaring mind!

The incubator—owing to our peculiar circumstances—but to no fault of its own, was not a great success. Our manner of living was, however, exceptional, and did not give the incubator a ghost of a chance. During the day the lamp could not be lighted at all, and in spite of all ventilation, etc., the atmospheric heat in the room itself ran the thermometer higher than it should be. Almost every night violent gusts of wind, sweeping through the house, extinguished the lamp two or three times, thoroughly chilling the eggs. Another difficulty was the obtaining of really fresh eggs; the only successful hatchings I accomplished were with guinea-fowls and eggs obtained from our own hens: but, as the action of the incubator was so uncertain, we were reluctant to risk many eggs, when the hens were ready and willing to sit. It was, however, a great amusement and delight to us, and the hatching process was one of absorbing interest—to our native friends it appeared a piece of paralyzing Ju-ju—the newly born chick gracefully dropping from the tray above to the softer floor below with a comical air of bewilderment and surprise! Under more normal circumstances I am certain that incubators (which can now be bought very cheap) would be of the greatest value in chicken rearing out here: a ‘foster-mother’ or ‘breeder’ is quite necessary to avoid the terrible infant mortality resulting from careless mothers and prowling hawks.