FEATURES IN THE CHARACTER OF A DOG.
(TO THE EDITOR OF THE SPECTATOR,"]
SIR,—For some time past I have noticed in your journal letters and articles referring to the wonderful powers of dogs. As I was myself much struck by many features in the character of a dog which I knew, illustrating, as I think, not only affection, but reasoning faculties, I shall acquaint you with a few of these, be- lieving that they may be interesting, at least to all admirers of that noble animal.
The dog of which I speak was a terrier. It showed its affec- tion in the most marked manner in several ways. Every morning, as soon as it got out of the kitchen, it came to its master's door, and if not admitted and caressed about the usual hour, gave evident signs of impatience. It would lie quiet till it thought the time had arrived, but never longer. After- wards it went to the breakfast-room, and occupied its master's chair till he arrived. On one occasion, a visitor was in the house, who, coming first into the room, ordered the dog to come off the best chair. To this it paid no attention, and when threatened with expulsion, at once prepared for defence. But as soon as its master appeared, it resigned its place voluntarily-, and quietly stretched itself on the rug at his feet.
At another time, it was left for three weeks during its master's absence from home. It saw him leave in a steamer, and every day until his return it repaired to the quay upon the arrival of the same boat, expecting him to come again in the one by which he had gone. It distinguished between a number of boats, always selecting the right one and the right hour.
One evening it accompanied its master when he went to gather mussels for bait. As the tide was far in, few mussels remained uncovered ; and after collecting all within reach, more were re- quired. A large bunch lay a few feet from the water's edge, but beyond reach ; yet as the dog was not one of those who take the water, to fetch, its master had no expectation that it would prove useful on the present occasion. Seeing him looking at the mussels, however, it first took a good look at those in the basket, and then, without being directed at all, went into the water. Select- ing the right bunch from amongst the stones and wreck with which it was surrounded, it brought it to land, and laid it at its master's feet. This, I think, is a proof of reason, rather than of instinct. The dog had never been trained to go into the sea, and would not probably have brought out the mussels, had it not seen that they were wanted.
It showed wonderful instinct, however, just before the death of one of its pups, and before its own death. Its pup had not been thriving, and the mother gave unmistakable proof that she fore- saw its death. She dug a grave for it and put it in. Nor, when it was removed, would she let it lie beside her, but immediately dug another grave, where she was less likely to be disturbed. Upon the day of her own death, also, she used what strength she had to dig her grave, in which she lay, preferring to die in it, than in what would seem to most a place of greater comfort.
These may not be singular incidents, but they are still remark- able and worthy of notice. They serve to show us the wonderful nature of man's faithful friend, the dog, and how he has many traits of character fitted to make him the worthy receiver of kind- ness and respect.—I am, Sir, &c., T.
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