To no animal is mankind so much indebted for its services and affection as to the Dog. Among all the various orders of brute creatures, none have hitherto been found so entirely adapted to our use, and even to our protection, as this. There are many countries, both of the old and new continent, in which, if man were deprived of this faithful ally, he would unsuccessfully resist the foes that surround him, seeking opportunities to encroach upon his property, destroy his labour, and attack his person. His own vigilance, in many situations, could not secure him, on the one hand, against their rapacity, nor, on the other, against their speed. The Dog, more tractable than any other animal, conforms himself to the movements and habits of his master. His diligence, his ardour, and his obedience are inexhaustible; and his disposition is so friendly, that, unlike every other animal, he seems to remember only the benefits he receives: he soon forgets our blows; and instead of discovering resentment while we chastise him, exposes himself to torture, and even licks the hand from which it proceeds.
Dogs, even of the dullest kind, seek the company of other animals; and by instinct take to the care of flocks and herds.
THE SHEPHERD’S DOG.
The Shepherd’s Dog has been considered the primitive stock, from whence all others are derived. This animal still continues nearly in its original state among the poor in temperate climates: being transported into the colder regions, it becomes smaller, and covered with a shaggy coat. Whatever differences there may be among the Dogs of these cold countries, they are not very considerable, as they all have straight ears, long and thick hair, a savage aspect, and do not bark either so often or so loud as Dogs of the more cultivated kind. The Shepherd’s Dog, transported into temperate climates, and among people entirely civilized, such as into England, France, and Germany, will be divested of his savage air, his pricked ears, his rough, long, and thick hair; though he will still retain his large skull, abundant brain, and consequent great sagacity.
Many interesting anecdotes are told of the shepherd’s tyke or colley, as this kind of Dog is frequently called, particularly of its sagacity in rescuing sheep from snowdrifts. When sheep are missing in a snow-storm, as is frequently the case in Scotland and the North of England, the shepherd arms himself with a spade, and watching the motions of his faithful Dog, digs into the snow wherever the Dog begins to scratch it away, and is thus sure to find his lost sheep.
This valuable boon to the shepherd is the least voracious of his kind, and endures fatigue and hunger with patience.