A HEN AND PUPPIES.
[Sept. 29, 1888.]
In reply to Mr. Ainger's question as to there being "any precedent for such close intimacies between animals so widely separated in kind and habit" as the dog and pigeon mentioned in his interesting letter, I can mention two cases which have come under my notice this last summer at my farm in Berkshire. In one case the friendship existed between a pullet and a pig. The pullet never left the farmyard to join in the rambles of the other fowls, but kept near the pig all day, occasionally roosting on its friend's back when taking its afternoon nap.
The other case was more remarkable. A hen, with strong motherly instincts, but no family of her own, acted for several weeks as foster-mother to eight spaniel puppies. The real mother, a very gentle creature, soon acquiesced in the arrangement. The hen covered the puppies with her wings just as though they had been chickens, and remained with them day and night. When they began to walk she was still their constant attendant; when they learned to lap and eat a little she would "call" them and break up their food. As they grew older the poor foster-mother had her patience sorely tried. They barked and capered around her, leading her altogether a sad life. After the puppies deserted her she was often seen sitting close to their mother, the pair apparently quite understanding each other. My children were naturally delighted to watch these strange sights, and the hen, though not at other times very tame, maintained perfect equanimity while they played with the puppies around her.
F. C. Maxwell.
A DOG AND A RABBIT.
[Sept. 29, 1888.]
Mr. Ainger, in giving his interesting incident of strange friendships between animals, asks if there are any precedents for such incongruous intimacy as he saw between a dog and a pigeon. To most close observers of animals, such curious cases, though always noteworthy, are well known; naturalists like Buckland and many others have frequently recorded them.
With the view of adding to the lore on this matter, permit me to cite the following. Two Scotch terriers are lying before the fire. Prince is an amiable sort of dog; Jack is rather surly; both good vermin-killers and fond of hunting. I bring in a common buck rabbit, and place it beside the dogs, with the intimation they were not to touch it. Trust, and then alliance, quickly grew between it and Prince, whilst Jack shows unmistakable hatred. In a few days the two friends, with their paws absurdly clasping each other's necks, sleep happily on the rug; they play together, they chase each other up and down the stairs and all over the house at full speed, and when tired come back to the rug. Jack refusing all this sort of thing, makes the rabbit look at him with a sort of awe. Does Bunny make no mess in the house? None whatever; he goes into the garden as the dogs do, and like them, scratches at the door when he wants to return. All this he does without any instruction from us. After a while, being very fond of him, we put on the floor a pretty pink-eyed doe as a present. He stares, sniffs her all over, kills her on the spot, and goes for a romp with his dear Prince. Jack always sleeps under my bed from choice, and just before I put out the light as I lie, stands up against the bed for his last pat and "good-night." Bunny has observed all this, and quietly creeps into the room, which he refuses to leave; then likewise always asks for his "good-night," and sleeps somewhere near his great "ideal."
Another instance, published in "Loch Creran" by my friend Mr. Anderson Smith. I punished my cat for killing a chicken. The next day he is seen to carry a live chicken in his mouth and lay it down to the hen he had previously robbed. He and the chicken afterwards were frequently observed leaving the orchard together, and travelling through the courtyard and back passages, find their way to the kitchen fireplace, where they would sleep in good fellowship. This chicken, I discovered, had been stolen nearly two miles away. It is important to remark that the cat, though a cruel bird-killer, never touched another chicken. Was the idea of compensation in the cat's mind? If not that, all the circumstances are singularly coincident. And why did the chicken prefer the cat's companionship to that of its fellows?