The standard adopted by the Boston Terrier Club in 1900 was the result of earnest, sincere, thoughtful deliberations of as conservative and conscientious a body of men as could anywhere be gotten together. Nothing was done in haste, the utmost consideration was given to every detail, and it was a thoroughly matured, and practically infallible guide to the general character and type of the breed by men who were genuine lovers of the dog for its own sake, who were perfectly familiar with the breed from its start, and who were cognizant of every point and characteristic which differentiated him from the bulldog on the one side and the bull terrier on the other, and while admitting the just claims of every other breed, believed sincerely that the dog evolved under their fostering care was the peer, if not the superior, of all in the particular sphere for which he was designed, an all-round house dog and companion. In the writer’s estimation this type of dog, for the particular position in life, so to speak, he is to occupy, could not in any way be improved, and the mental qualities that accompany the physical characteristics (which are particularly specified in the first chapter) are of such inestimable value that any possible change would be detrimental. It may be observed that it was the dogs of this type that have led the van everywhere in the days when he was practically unknown outside of the state in which he originated. “Monte,” “Druid Vixon,” “Bonnie,” “Revilo Peach,” and dogs of their conformation possessed a type of interesting individuality that blazed the way east, west, north and south. Does any one imagine that the so-called terrier type one so often hears of, and which a large number of people are apparently led today to believe to be “par excellence,” the correct thing, would have been capable of so doing? No one realizes more fully than the writer the fact that the bully type can be carried too far, and great harm will inevitably ensue, but the swing of the pendulum to the exaggerated terrier type will in time, I firmly believe, ring in his death knell. It is a source of wonderment to me that numbers of men who don the ermine can distribute prizes to the weedy specimens, shallow in muzzle, light in bone and substance, long in body, head and tail, who adorn (?) the shows of the past few years. I am not a prophet, neither the son of one, but I will hazard my reputation in predicting that before many years have rolled, a type, approximating that authorized by the Boston Terrier Club in 1900 will prevail, and the friends of the dog will undoubtedly believe it to be good enough to last for all time.
It will readily be recalled that Lord Byron said of the eminent actor, Sheridan, “that nature broke the die in moulding one such man,” and the same may be affirmed with equal truth of the Boston terrier, and he will ever remain a type superior to and differ from all other breeds in his particular sphere.
It may not be generally known by those who are insisting on a much more terrier conformation than the standard calls for, that an equally extreme desire for an exaggerated bull type prevailed a number of years ago amongst some of the dogs’ warmest supporters, whose ideal was that practically of a miniature bulldog, without the pronounced contour of the same. I remember when I joined the Club in the early days that some of the members then were afraid that the dogs were approximating too much to the terrier side of the house. What their views today would be I leave the reader to imagine. The plain fact of the case is, the dog should be a happy medium between the two, the bull and the terrier. Can any intelligent man find a chance for improvement here? I admit that many people are so constituted that a change is necessary in practically everything they are brought into close contact with. But is a change necessarily an improvement? If some men could change the color of their eyes or the general contour of their features they would never rest satisfied until they had so done, but they would speedily find out that such a change would be very detrimental to their appearance, the harmony of features and correlation of one part to another would be distorted. I admit readily that one very important result would be obtained, viz., the dog of the pronounced terrier type could be bred much more easily. But is an easy production a desideratum? I certainly think not. To those who “must be doing something” and who find a certain sense of satisfaction in tinkering with the standard, we extend our pity, and state that experience is a hard school, but some people will learn in no other. To those of us who love the dog as he is, and who believe in “letting well enough alone,” we admit we might as well suggest to improve the majestic proportions of the old world cathedrals and castles we all love so much to see, or advocate the lightening up of the shadows on the canvas of the old masters, or recommend the touching up of the immortal carvings of the Italian sculptors. We advise the preacher to stick to his text, and the shoemaker to his last, and to all those who would improve the standard we say: Hands off! One very important feature in connection with the Standard is, that while breeders and judges are perfectly willing to have all dogs that come in the heavyweight class conform practically to it, when the lightweights and toys are concerned, a somewhat different type is permitted and the so-called terrier type is allowed, hence we see a tendency with the smaller dogs to a narrower chest, longer face and tail. While personally I am in favor of a dog weighing from sixteen to twenty pounds, or even somewhat heavier, there is absolutely no reason why one should not have any sized dog one desires, but please observe, do not breed small dogs at the expense of the type. Let the ten or twelve pound dog conform to the standard as much as if it weighed twenty. I think an object lesson will be of inestimable value here. Every one who has visited the poultry shows of the past few years must have been delighted and impressed to see the beautiful varieties of bantams. Take the games, for example, with their magnificent plumage and sprightly bearing. On even a casual examination it will be discovered that these little fowls are an exact reproduction of the game fowl in miniature. The same identical proportions, symmetry and shape. Take the lordly Brahma and the bantam bearing the same name, and the same exact proportions prevail. And so it should be with the small Boston terrier. They should possess the same proportions and symmetry as the larger. Remember always that when the dog is bred too much away from the bulldog type, a great loss in the loving disposition of the dog is bound to ensue. Personally, if the type had to be changed, I would rather lean to the bull type than the terrier. The following testimony of a Boston banker and director of the Union Pacific Railroad, to whom I sold two large dogs that were decidedly on the bull type, may be of interest at this point. Speaking of the first dog he said: “I have had all kinds of dogs, but I get more genuine pleasure out of my Boston terrier than all my other dogs combined. When I reach home in the afternoon I am met at the gate by Prince, and when I sit down to read my paper or a book the dog is at my feet on the rug, staying there perfectly still as long as I do. When dinner is announced he goes with me to the dining room, takes his place by my side, and every little while licks my hands, and when I go out for my usual walk before retiring the dog is waiting for me at the door while I put my hat and coat on. He follows me, never running away or barking, and he sleeps on a mat outside my door at night, and I never worry about burglars.” All this is very simple and commonplace, but it shows why this type of a dog is liked. In regard to the differences of opinion that different judges exhibit when passing upon a dog in the show room, one preferring one type of a dog and the other another, this, of course, is morally wrong. The standard requirements should govern, and not individual preferences. We hear a good deal said nowadays about the cleaning up of the head, and the so-called terrier finish. That seems to be the thing to do, but does not the standard call for a compactly built dog, finished in every part of his make-up, and possessing style and a graceful carriage? This being the case, a dog should not possess wrinkled, loose skin on head or neck, and the shoulders should be neat and trim. In a word, in comporting to the standard a dog is produced that possesses a harmonious whole, “a thing of beauty” and a joy as long as he lives. In short, the dog should be as far removed from the bull type as he is from the terrier. If the present judges can not see their way clear to follow the standard, why, appoint those that will, for as every fair minded man agrees, the dogs should follow the standard and not the standard follow the dogs. It is needless to add that I do not share in the pessimistic view taken by many lovers of the dog who think he will be permanently injured by the differences of opinion that prevail as to the type, etc., and the personalities that sometimes mar the showing of the dog, for I am of the same opinion as was probably felt by the great fish who had to give up Jonah, “that it is an impossible feat to keep a good man (or dog) down,” and that instead of falling off, as one writer intimates, he will fall into the good graces of a larger number of people than has heretofore fallen to the lot of any variety of man’s best friend.
CHAPTER XII.
PICTURE TAKING.
It would seem at the first glance that to write on this subject was only a waste of time and energy, and yet I know that no one feature of the dog business is more vital in importance or more fraught with trouble than this apparently simple process of dog photography.
The novice will at once exclaim: “What could be more natural than sending on a picture of a dog I want to sell to the prospective customer? Surely he can see exactly what he is purchasing!” This may be perfectly true, and yet again it may not.
I am not writing of the subject of false pictures on the stud cards of some unscrupulous breeders, or those pictures taken of dogs whose markings are faked, only too common in some quarters. The photos look good, of course, to the buyer, but when the dog arrives, he finds, to his disgust, that the beautiful markings, in some mysterious manner, got “rubbed off” while making the journey in the crate. I recently saw a photograph of a dog sold to a Western customer, by a dealer in an adjoining town to mine, taken by an artist in photography when the dog was all “chalked up”. When the dog arrived he was as free from nose band as my pocket is frequently of a dollar bill. Small wonder the buyer remarked with emphasis that the dealer was a fraud. One can almost forgive his exclamation, which he surely had not learned at Sunday school, at being taken in, in so mean a way.