The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition, Vol. 09Stevenson, Robert Louis
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The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition, Vol. 09
Stevenson, Robert Louis
English literature -- 19th century
There are not many dogs like this good Coolin, and not many people. But
the type is one well marked, both in the human and the canine family.
Gallantry was not his aim, but a solid and somewhat oppressive
respectability. He was a sworn foe to the unusual and the conspicuous, a
praiser of the golden mean, a kind of city uncle modified by Cheeryble.
And as he was precise and conscientious in all the steps of his own
blameless course, he looked for the same precision and an even greater
gravity in the bearing of his deity, my father. It was no sinecure to be
Coolin's idol: he was exacting like a rigid parent; and at every sign of
levity in the man whom he respected, he announced loudly the death of
virtue and the proximate fall of the pillars of the earth.
I have called him a snob; but all dogs are so, though in varying
degrees. It is hard to follow their snobbery among themselves; for
though I think we can perceive distinctions of rank, we cannot grasp
what is the criterion. Thus in Edinburgh, in a good part of the town,
there were several distinct societies or clubs that met in the morning
to--the phrase is technical--to "rake the backets" in a troop. A friend
of mine, the master of three dogs, was one day surprised to observe that
they had left one club and joined another; but whether it was a rise or
a fall, and the result of an invitation or an expulsion, was more than
he could guess. And this illustrates pointedly our ignorance of the real
life of dogs, their social ambitions and their social hierarchies. At
least, in their dealings with men they are not only conscious of sex,
but of the difference of station. And that in the most snobbish manner;
for the poor man's dog is not offended by the notice of the rich, and
keeps all his ugly feeling for those poorer or more ragged than his
master. And again, for every station they have an ideal of behaviour, to
which the master, under pain of derogation, will do wisely to conform.
How often has not a cold glance of an eye informed me that my dog was
disappointed; and how much more gladly would he not have taken a beating
than to be thus wounded in the seat of piety!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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