All dogs die too soon. Many humans don’t die soon enough. A dog is only a dog. And a dog is too gorgeously normal, and wholesome to be made ridiculous in death by his owner’s sloppy sentimentality. The stories of one’s dogs, like the recital of one’s dreams, are of no special interest to others. Perhaps I have talked overlong about these two collie chums of ours. Belatedly, I ask your forgiveness if I have bored you. ALBERT PAYSON TERHUNE. _“Sunnybank,” Pompton Lakes, New Jersey_. [Illustration] [Illustration] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Transcriber’s Note ‘Field-mouse’ appears with and without the hyphen. Both are given here as printed. ‘Hand gallop’ also appears as a single word, unhyphenated. Both are retained. Errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected, and are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the original. The following issues should be noted, along with the resolutions. 21.1 first one should[d]er and then the other Removed. 22.25 without bird dog or rabb[b]it hound Removed. 32.17 a ten-foot clif[t/f] Replaced. 153.24 L[i/o]chinvar King that day clove his path Replaced. 170.8 He found nothing[.] Added. 181.18 with a truck of my own[.] Added. 182.5 spring o[r/f] ribs Replaced. 211.4 and deposit them there[.] Added. 214.11 No expert trainer [w/a]s worked more skilfully Replaced. End of Project Gutenberg's The Heart of a Dog, by Albert Payson Terhune