As I have been assured, there never was a blyther, bolder, more irrepressible spirit than that which lodged in the body of the small terrier. Like his friend Wallace, he needed to be tamed, and to the last he could not stand teasing for any length of time without a strong inclination to show his fine white teeth in a way which was not play. The fact was, that on these occasions he got into a white heat of rage, in which he was in danger of ceasing to be master of his actions.
Once, when Dick was a young dog, under some provocation he flew at and slightly bit his mistress, who had no resource but to show him the iniquity of the deed in a manner which, I believe, is effectual when it is possible to practise it. According to strict injunctions as to the conduct required in the circumstances, and in the stern necessity of preventing a repetition of the offence, which might have cost the life of the offender, she caught Dick by the refractory cuff of his neck, carried him to the door of a room into which she could throw him when the time came, and while holding him in the air—which is the great secret of the effectiveness of the punishment, since the culprit feels himself, during the infliction, absolutely powerless in the grasp of the dispenser of justice—cuffed him soundly, and then flung him from her into the open door at hand, closing it quickly after him, and so preventing any possibility of a hostile attack from the dog while still writhing and struggling under his penalty. The result was, that the tender-hearted young mistress withdrew sick from giving the painful lesson she had been imperatively called on to teach. But, as in the case of Wallace, and as in that of the mastiff which Emily Brontë cowed by one box in the ear, the lesson had been learned thoroughly; Dick never again, unless in such an instance of wilful protracted teasing as I have referred to, took to biting his friends.
His affection was as ardent as his temper was quick, and the convulsions of delight, the ecstatic caresses he lavished on members of the family when they returned from a temporary absence, were demonstrations to see rather than to hear of.
Dick is said to have been the most entertaining companion in a walk, always making amusing discoveries, full of the freshest zest and the most unwearied energy. He had a passion for sport, of which I shall have more to say hereafter; but, sport or no sport, he never failed to find objects of interest on his way, and to impart the interest to his fortunate companion.
Like Wallace, Dick could be easily induced to go through a variety of tricks—which, in my opinion, are slightly disparaging to very sensible or bright dogs, seeing that these tricks are purely artificial, entirely distinct from the dog’s natural sagacity and genuine feats, and can be imparted, if proper pains be taken, to far inferior dogs—I mean dogs that have merely the faculty of mimicry, apart from intuition, steadfastness, and a power of love which makes wise. One of Dick’s many tricks was to go through the form of sitting in his own chair at table with the family when they were at meals (though his food was taken elsewhere), and of speaking when he was told—that is, at a certain word and sign, starting off in his own dog language of yelping and whining, till he was requested to be quiet.
From his introduction to the farm as a puppy, Dick entertained an immense admiration—rapidly progressing, in a dog of his frank, confident character, into a trustful, rather encroaching affection—for the veteran Wallace. The mastiff responded by testifying the most amiable indulgence for his liliputian friend. The indulgence proved its own reward, for there was no question that the eager, joyous little dog brought some of its own eagerness and joy into what was becoming the fading, failing life of his mighty ally.
A ludicrous position which the dogs often assumed has been described to me. Wallace had the usual sterlingly honest dog’s aversion to tramps and disreputable characters (in the dog’s eyes). Dick shared this repugnance; but in spite of his constitutional audacity, he was apt to mingle discretion with his valour here. When a particularly ill-looking traveller approached the farm gate, where Wallace and Dick were on sentry, Dick had a custom of nimbly insinuating himself between Wallace’s fore paws and standing upright beneath the arch of the chest without difficulty; from this vantage-ground he would issue his sharp volley of barks as a rattling accompaniment to the bass cannon-like boom of Wallace’s challenge.
When the two dogs lay down to sleep, Dick would take the most manifest advantage of his friend’s neck, or shoulder, or side, nestling himself within or against it, for the promotion of his own warmth and ease, without sustaining the least rebuke from the gentle giant.
Sometimes when Dick wished a game of play, for which Wallace felt himself quite too old, Dick would beset his friend like a little pestering spoiled child, pawing and pulling, and making darts and dabs at Wallace’s ears, which would have nearly covered Dick’s body, or at the jaw, one shake from which would have dismissed the life from the little dog in a twinkling. But Dick was comfortably persuaded that he was entirely privileged, and he did not argue without his host, though Wallace, after much endurance, could assert himself so far as to send off his tormentor. Yet he was never known to do it, save in the kindest, most friendly fashion. No paralysing stroke from his paw, no crushing snap from his teeth, ever scared the fun and familiarity out of little Dick. He received his congé in the shape of a mild, if firm refusal, which left him free to come sidling into his crony’s presence again within the next five minutes.