A DOG'S INTUITION
[To the Editor of the SPECTATOR.] SIR,—Reading the interesting letter of your correspondent about a dog's intuition, I am reminded of an occasion when a dog of mine showed intuition of a different nature, but of a wonderful kind. He was a wire-haired terrier, very faithful and devoted ; and for nine years he never willingly left my side, day or night. It happened that a relation came to stay who was suffering from the burden of a great sorrow. The dog knew her, but had never paid any particular attention to her. On the night of her arrival I went to her room to say good night, followed, as usual, by my dog.
When I turned to go, I waited for him. He made no move, but looked earnestly at me, as if he were trying hard to tell me something. I asked him if he was going to stay there for the night. Again he made no attempt to move and gave me that very curious look. I went away, feeling sure I would soon hear his voice at my door. But he did not come. And next day I heard he had stayed by the bedside all night, and that his presence had seethed so sympathetic and under- standing. It was a unique act on his part, and must have been prompted by some delicate instinct of sympathy.—! am,