In some Dogs, as in many people, honesty does not spring from high principle, but from mere conventionality. Actual dishonesty, too, is the commonest vice of untrained or badly-trained Dogs. It is, however, comparatively rare to meet with Dogs whose thefts are of a really artistic nature. Two of the best instances of this are furnished by Sir Walter Scott,[105] who gives a most interesting account of a Shepherd’s Dog and a Spaniel, both of whom had a perfect talent for thieving; they were not only afflicted with kleptomania in a high degree, but showed as much talent in the performance of their equivocal deeds as the most prominent member of the “swell mob.” [Illustration: COLLEY, OR SHEEP DOG.] “I have heard of a sheep-stealer who had rendered his Dog so skilful an accomplice in his nefarious traffic, that he used to send him out to commit acts of felony by himself, and had even contrived to impress on the poor cur the caution that he should not, on such occasions, seem even to recognise his master if they met accidentally. There were several instances of this dexterity, but especially those which occurred in the celebrated case of Murdison and Millar in 1773. These persons, a sheep-farmer and his shepherd, settled in the vale of Tweed, commenced and carried on for some time an extensive system of devastation on the flocks of their neighbours. A Dog belonging to Millar was so well trained that he had only to show him during the day the parcel of Sheep which he desired to have, and when dismissed at night for the purpose, Yarrow went right to the pasture where the flock had fed, and carried off the quantity shown to him. He then drove them before him by the most secret paths to Murdison’s farm, where the dishonest master and servant were in readiness to receive the booty. Two things were remarkable. In the first place, that if the Dog, when thus dishonestly employed, actually met his master, he observed great caution in recognising him, as if he had been afraid of bringing him under suspicion; secondly, that he showed a distinct sense that the illegal transactions in which he was engaged were not of a nature to endure daylight. The Sheep which he was directed to drive were often reluctant, to leave their own pastures, and sometimes the intervention of rivers or other obstacles made their progress peculiarly difficult. On such occasions, Yarrow continued his efforts to drive his plunder forward until the day began to dawn, a signal which, he conceived, rendered it necessary for him to desert his spoil, and slink homeward by a circuitous road. It is generally said this accomplished Dog was hanged along with his master; but the truth is, he survived him long, in the service of a man in Leithen: yet was said afterwards to have shown little of the wonderful instinct exhibited in the service of Millar.