Then we explained that--well, that it wasn’t a question of fathers exactly; that nobody wanted a--a mother dog; that, well, that practically all our dogs were males--there was only a very small percentage of females allowed to live. Then Zava, observing Terry with her grave sweet smile, quoted back at him: “Rather hard on Thomas, isn’t it? Do they enjoy it--living without mates? Are your dogs as uniformly healthy and sweet-tempered as our cats?” Jeff laughed, eyeing Terry mischievously. As a matter of fact we began to feel Jeff something of a traitor--he so often flopped over and took their side of things; also his medical knowledge gave him a different point of view somehow. “I’m sorry to admit,” he told them, “that the dog, with us, is the most diseased of any animal--next to man. And as to temper--there are always some dogs who bite people--especially children.” That was pure malice. You see, children were the--the _raison d’être_ in this country. All our interlocutors sat up straight at once. They were still gentle, still restrained, but there was a note of deep amazement in their voices. “Do we understand that you keep an animal--an unmated male animal--that bites children? About how many are there of them, please?” “Thousands--in a large city,” said Jeff, “and nearly every family has one in the country.” Terry broke in at this. “You must not imagine they are all dangerous--it’s not one in a hundred that ever bites anybody. Why, they are the best friends of the children--a boy doesn’t have half a chance that hasn’t a dog to play with!” “And the girls?” asked Somel. “Oh--girls--why they like them too,” he said, but his voice flatted a little. They always noticed little things like that, we found later. Little by little they wrung from us the fact that the friend of man, in the city, was a prisoner; was taken out for his meager exercise on a leash; was liable not only to many diseases but to the one destroying horror of rabies; and, in many cases, for the safety of the citizens, had to go muzzled. Jeff maliciously added vivid instances he had known or read of injury and death from mad dogs. They did not scold or fuss about it. Calm as judges, those women were. But they made notes; Moadine read them to us. “Please tell me if I have the facts correct,” she said. “In your country--and in others too?” “Yes,” we admitted, “in most civilized countries.” “In most civilized countries a kind of animal is kept which is no longer useful--” “They are a protection,” Terry insisted. “They bark if burglars try to get in.” Then she made notes of “burglars” and went on: “because of the love which people bear to this animal.” Zava interrupted here. “Is it the men or the women who love this animal so much?” “Both!” insisted Terry. “Equally?” she inquired. And Jeff said, “Nonsense, Terry--you know men like dogs better than women do--as a whole.” “Because they love it so much--especially men. This animal is kept shut up, or chained.”