Animal Intelligence / The International Scientific Series, Vol. XLIV.

by George John Romanes

Mr. R. O. Backhouse writes to me:—

My dog is a broken-haired rabbit-coursing dog, and is very intelligent. I took him one day to an exhibition of pictures and objects of interest, among which were statues and a bust of Sir Walter Scott. It was a local exhibition, and as there was jewellery, some one had to sit up all night with it as guard. I volunteered, and as we were looking about and sitting on a stand of flowers, my dog suddenly began to bark, and made as if he had found some one hiding. On looking round I found that it was the bust of Sir Walter Scott standing among the flowers, and in which he evidently recognised sufficient likeness to a human being to think the supposed man had no business there at so late an hour.

I adduce this instance because it serves as a sort of introduction to the more remarkable faculty which I cannot have the least doubt is manifested by some dogs—the faculty, namely, of recognising portraits as representing persons, or possibly of mistaking portraits for persons.

Mr. Crehore, writing to 'Nature' (vol. xxi., p. 132), says:—

A Dandie-Dinmont terrier, after the death of his mistress, was playing with some children in a room into which was brought a photograph (large) of her that he had never previously seen. It was placed upon the floor leaning against the wall. In the words of my informant, who witnessed it, the dog, when he suddenly caught sight of the picture, crouched and trembled all over, his whole body quivering. Then he crept along the floor till he reached it, and, seating himself before it, began to bark loudly, as if he would say, 'Why don't you speak to me?' The picture was moved to other parts of the room, and he followed, seating himself before it and repeating his barking.

Mr. Charles W. Peach also gives an account in 'Nature' (vol. xx., p. 196) of a large dog recognising his portrait:—

When it (the portrait) was brought to my house, my old dog was present with the family at the unveiling; nothing was said to him, nor invitation given to him to notice it. We saw that his gaze was steadily fixed on it, and he soon became excited and whined, and tried to lick and scratch it, and was so much taken up with it that we—although so well knowing his intelligence—were all quite surprised—in fact, could scarcely believe that he should know it was my likeness. We, however, had sufficient proof after it was hung up in our parlour. The room was rather low, and under the picture stood a chair: the door was left open, without any thought about the dog; he, however, soon found it out, when a low whining and scratching was heard by the family, and on search being made, he was in the chair trying to get at the picture. After this I put it up higher, so as to prevent its being injured by him. This did not prevent him from paying attention to it, for whenever I was away from home, whether for a short or a long time—sometimes for several days—he spent most of his time gazing on it, and as it appeared to give him comfort the door was always left open for him. When I was long away he made a low whining, as if to draw attention to it. This lasted for years—in fact, as long as he lived.

From this account it appears that when in the first instance the dog's attention was drawn to the picture it was on the floor in the line of the dog's sight; the behaviour of the animal then and subsequently was too marked and peculiar to admit of mistake.

Another correspondent in 'Nature' (vol. xx., p. 220), alluding to the previous letter, writes:—

Having read Mr. Peach's letter on 'Intellect in Brutes,' as shown by the sagacity he witnessed in his dog, I have been asked to send a similar anecdote, which I have often told to friends. Many years ago my husband had his portrait taken by J. Phillips, R.A., and subsequently went to India, leaving the portrait in London to be finished and framed. When it was sent home, about two years after it was taken, it was placed on the floor against the sofa, preparatory to being hung on the wall. We had then a very handsome black-and-tan setter, which was a great pet in the house. As soon as the dog came into the room he recognised his master, though he had not seen him for two years, and went up to the picture and licked the face. When this anecdote was told to Phillips, he said it was the highest compliment that had ever been paid him.