Anecdotes of the Habits and Instinct of AnimalsLee, R., Mrs.
General
Anecdotes of the Habits and Instinct of Animals
Lee, R., Mrs.
Animal behavior -- Juvenile literature
The most ancient of this influential, if not respectable tribe of dogs,
indeed the most ancient dog of Great Britain, is the Scotch Terrier,
brought to us, probably, from the north-west of Europe by our primitive
inhabitants. There are two varieties of indigenous terriers--the one,
smooth, usually white or black in colour, with tan spots; sharp muzzle;
bright and lively eyes; pointed or slightly turned-down ears; and tail
carried high. It is, however, supposed that the Scottish race, with a
shorter and fuller muzzle, stouter limbs, hard, shaggy fur, sometimes
white in colour, but more often sandy or ochry, is the oldest and most
genuine breed. One of these clever and excellent beasts, named Peter,
lived with my mother for some years, and during the whole of that time
evinced the greatest sagacity and attachment. He constantly understood
the conversation, provided it related to cats, rats, or himself; and
often when we spoke of him casually, without even knowing he was in the
room, or calling him by his name, he has laid his head on our knees and
wagged his tail, as much as to say, "I understand." He was a most
inveterate enemy to all rats, mice, and cats, nipping them in the back
of the neck, and throwing them over his head at the rate of one in a
minute. Before he came into our family, he won a wager that he would
kill twelve rats in twelve minutes: the second rat fastened on his lip,
and hung there while he despatched the other ten, and then, within the
given time, he finished that also. The inhumanity of such wagers did not
rest with him. He was stolen more than once, and brought back when a
reward was advertised; and, the first time, the signs of suffering about
him were very manifest. The beard under the chin, the tufts of the ears,
the fringes of the legs, had been all cut off, and he had been rubbed
with red ochre to disguise him for sale. He was placed with many others
in a cellar, ready for shipping, and the dog-dealer, or rather
dog-stealer, who brought him to us, said he thought he would have died
of grief in a day or two, for he refused to eat, and seemed to be
insensible either to kindness or anger. For three weeks he hung his head
and shrunk into corners, as if he felt himself degraded; but at last our
caresses and encouragement brought back his usual bold and lively
bearing.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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