The Complete Essays of John GalsworthyGalsworthy, John
General
The Complete Essays of John Galsworthy
Galsworthy, John
Essays
He ceased to sleep with me the day we discovered that he was a perfect
little colony, whose settlers were of an active species which I have
never seen again. After that he had many beds, for circumstance
ordained that his life should be nomadic, and it is to this I trace that
philosophic indifference to place or property, which marked him out from
most of his own kind. He learned early that for a black dog with long
silky ears, a feathered tail, and head of great dignity, there was no
home whatsoever, away from those creatures with special scents, who took
liberties with his name, and alone of all created things were privileged
to smack him with a slipper. He would sleep anywhere, so long as it was
in their room, or so close outside it as to make no matter, for it was
with him a principle that what he did not smell did not exist. I would
I could hear again those long rubber-lipped snufflings of recognition
underneath the door, with which each morning he would regale and
reassure a spirit that grew with age more and more nervous and delicate
about this matter of propinquity! For he was a dog of fixed ideas,
things stamped on his mind were indelible; as, for example, his duty
toward cats, for whom he had really a perverse affection, which had led
to that first disastrous moment of his life, when he was brought up,
poor bewildered puppy, from a brief excursion to the kitchen, with one
eye closed and his cheek torn! He bore to his grave that jagged scratch
across the eye. It was in dread of a repetition of this tragedy that
he was instructed at the word “Cats” to rush forward with a special
“tow-row-rowing,” which he never used toward any other form of creature.
To the end he cherished a hope that he would reach the cat; but never
did; and if he had, we knew he would only have stood and wagged his
tail; but I well remember once, when he returned, important, from some
such sally, how dreadfully my companion startled a cat-loving friend by
murmuring in her most honeyed voice: “Well, my darling, have you been
killing pussies in the garden?”
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