Not long ago a collie was brought from England to this country. In his new home there was a little girl, three years old. One day she wandered away through the fields to an open well at some distance from the house.
Her father was on his way home, when he heard the barking of the dog, and knew that something was wrong. Springing over a stone wall, the man saw his little girl and the dog near the well. There was a light snow on the ground, and by the rows of tiny footsteps it could be seen that the child had walked round and round the well, and that the faithful dog had walked beside her, keeping always between the edge of the well and his little charge.
When the collie is kindly treated he is the most faithful and devoted of dogs, but he feels very keenly any neglect or harsh words. Unkindness makes him sullen, and sometimes cross.
Every book about dogs is full of stories of their faithfulness, their intelligence, and their unselfishness. We have made the dog dependent upon us, and he is too often the victim of our thoughtlessness and cruelty. Dogs are made happy or unhappy in very much the same ways that children are. If you are kind to your dog and willing to learn how to take care of him properly, he will probably give you very little trouble. He will grieve when you scold him, but he will love you faithfully through all kinds of trouble and pain.
"FORSAKE NOT AN OLD FRIEND."
Goodness moves in a larger sphere than justice;… kindness and beneficence should be extended to creatures of every species…. A good man will take care of his horses and dogs, not only while they are young, but when old and past service. Thus the people of Athens, when they had finished the temple called Hecatompedon, set at liberty the beasts of burden that had been chiefly employed in the work, suffering them to pasture at large, free from any other service. It is said that one of these afterwards came of its own accord to work, and, putting itself at the head of the laboring cattle, marched before them to the citadel. This pleased the people, and they made a decree that it should be kept at the public charge so long as it lived. Many have shown particular regard in burying the dogs which they had cherished and loved, and among them Xantippus of old, whose dog swam by the side of his galley to Salamis, when the Athenians were forced to abandon their city, and was afterwards buried by him upon a promontory which is still called the Dog's Grave. PLUTARCH.
CATS AND DOGS.
Cats and dogs seem to be natural enemies, but it is quite possible to make them very good friends. The easiest way to do this is to bring a kitten in your arms to your dog and explain to him that he must never chase her, or bark at her. He will listen, looking very wise, and if, in his presence, you are careful not to pet her too much, he will try to please you. If you make him jealous, or if you think it is fun to see him run after the kitten, you can never succeed.
A bull-terrier named Teddy lives in the same house with Fluff, an Angora cat of great beauty. Teddy has been carefully taught, and his manners are delightful. Often when passing the chair where Fluff lies asleep, Teddy will put up his black nose and give her face a friendly lap. Fluff stretches out her fore-feet sleepily, but she does not object in the least. Sometimes Teddy is too rough in his play, and Fluff taps him gently with her soft paw to remind him that she is not as strong as he is.
It is not easy to teach an old cat to be very friendly with a dog. She has too good a memory for that. She remembers the times when she has scrambled up the tree-trunk, panting and frightened, with a dog barking at her heels. She remembers that the children have often cheered and praised the dog, and have made no effort to help her. On the whole, she would rather arch her back and wave her tail than try to be agreeable. It is quite possible that if you were in her place you would feel very much as she does.