Canine CapriceCAROLYN HARVEY

"These Never Were Traitors" was thetitle of the huge composite picture - anartist's attempt to convey his idea of thenoble dog. Evidently he knew well thestory of the faithful dog mourning inwatchful vigil at the grave of his deadmaster, for he pictured him there amidthe eternal green of life and the stone-gray~f death. He knew well the knightly hero-l~m of the German shepherd bearing hisSIgn - the Red Cross - among the bloodybattlelines of Flanders Field. Perhups hehad seen a child tugged by its clothingfrom the path of a moving train or hado~served the blind man walking brisklyw~th self-assurance, led by his Seeing Eye.HIS purpose was clear - unlike men andwomen, "these never were traitors."

Seldom have human friendships beenheralded ., or even pictured as have therelation hi b 'S ip etween man and dog. Atone time it was the duty of former SenatorGeorge Ve t f M· .s 0 ISSOurito prosecute a manWho had kill dh. e the dog of his client. InIS address to the jury he delivered the

following tribute:

that The one absolutely unselfish friendworlda man can have in this selfishthe 0' the one that never deserts him,or tr::: ~hat =v= proves ungratefuldog sta~ erous,.IS .hIS dog. A man'spoverty d~ byhhim m prosperity and inHe wili ~n ealth and in sickness.Where t s eel? on the cold ground,snow dr,!-ewmtry winds blow and thenear ~ves fiercely,. if only he may bethe h master's SIde. He will kisswill ~~~ that has no food to offer; heCome in the wounds and sores thatthe wOddon~ct with the roughness ofpauper m~st e gu~rds the sleep of hisWhen all er as If he were a prince.remains other. friends desert, hereputati~n ~~fn trIc~es take wings andstant in h. ~ s 0 preces, he IS as can-ney thro~:h o~~ as the sun in its jour-drives the te heavens. If fortune

mas er forth, an outcast in

the world, friendless and homeless, thefaithful dog asks no higher privilegethan that of accompanying him, toguard against danger, to fight againsthis enemies. And when the last sceneof all comes, and death takes themaster in its embrace, and his bodyis laid away in the cold ground, nomatter if all other friends pursue theirway, there by his graveside will thenoble dog be found, his head betweenhis paws, his eyes sad but open in alertwatchfulness, faithful and true even todeath. 1I, too, have known noble dogs, although

my experiences have not been so dramatic.I have watched the once-exuberant bodyof my cousin's dog grow listless and grayas he grieves for his master who has beenoverseas for nearly two years. My ownfamily once owned a brilliant-mindedGerman shepherd who died of grief whenhis mistress went on a month's vacationand could not take him along. A humanbeing has that faculty of mind which tellshim he can forget grief - that he must for-get it and live on; a dog has not. To himthe loss of a loved one means the end.

In order that the reader may not sup-pose that I am primarily a sentimentalist,I shall dwell at length on the pleasure andhumor derived from a life of experiencewith dogs. I can picture clearly and callby name at least twenty of the dogs myfamily has owned. Of these, all came tous by mutual adoption but one - an ex-pensive, pedigreed animal, who escapedout the coal-shute the first night we hadhim. We learned a valuable lesson, forever since we have had only "mutts"lovable ones with hearts and souls.

1. M. V. O'Shea, World Book, W. F.Quarrie and Co., Chicago, 1928, page 1987.

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Fawnie could almost talk. This littlebrown fox-terrier with the vibrant energyof an electron was so named because heresembled a baby deer much more than hedid a dog. His doctrine was "Life, liberty,and the pursuit of rabbits." He and hisgirl-friend, a huge chow, would roam thewoods together, splitting their catches. Thetail-end usually found its way to ourdoorstep.

Fawnie had three weaknesses: his lackof will-power in the presence of a soft bed,his hatred of mail carriers, and his utteraversion to the feline members of thehousehold. Cats, he felt, were absolutelyunnecessary to the world, and his pridewould not allow him even to touch any-thing that smelled of one. His uniquetalent for getting into scrapes has neverbeen surpassed by even a brass monkey.His scientific name, canis familiaris, fittedhim well, for he made friends with every-one, including the city dog-catcher. Whenmy father went down to bail him out of"jail," there he sat, aloof from his prison-mates, head high, one ear up and one eardown, apparently indifferent to the smalltalk going on all around him.

As I have previously mentioned, Faw-nie intensely disliked mail-carriers, be-cause of, their black bags, I suppose. Helost his temper one day when Mr. Brownrefused to stop at his command, and bithis ,ego The United States Governmentthreatened to sue us for $10,000, and warn-ed us that if the same incident occurredagain, Fawnie would be shot on sight. Sobegan the long years of locking the littlecriminal up every day, until three o'clockin the afternoon, a sort of "dog parole,"I suppose.

in spite of his faults - or maybe be-

cause of them - Fawnie was a perfectgentleman. He practiced chivalry as vali-antly as any Ivanhoe. He learned early

'.. he droPped

that ladles come first. Always b, Ii 's feet e..:-

a dog-biscuit at his sister Fe me Ifore indulging himself. Though only t~efve

et hIS oe,inches high, he dashed out to me .. cowardiceno matter what its size or power,he knew not. Many times he sent a hUg~

1 . g because 0bulldog limping away, ye pm. nthe beating Fawnie had given him - aIdIor the love of his beautiful Rusty. Couany knight have been more valiant?

Fawnie like many people, refused td.o

, ' 1 .allow himself to believe he was getting 0 ,

.. s vigoroUSthe last years of his life were aas his puppyhood. The .only time I eversaw his usually vibrating body quiet was.on that fateful day in August when hd

e

dh' anrefused to get up when we calle rm+-we knew he was dead. NoW he lies in mY

'ingarden under the violets. His soul 18

Dog Heaven, as I feel sure there is such aplace, There must be, tor C.olonel, Wags,Teddy, and Skippy are all there.

The little pitchers who lurk in .ourcupboard and supposedly possess big ears,might tell y.oU of the numerouS dialoguesin which my father has firmly informed me

t '1 (thethat one dog is enough for any amI yRepublican party says so - the Republi-cans should know). I disagree with himheartily and, being a nonc.onformist, assertthat I do not think a th.ousand W.ould betoo many. However, since neither of usis a bit "d.ogmatic," we compromise - atthe present time we have six. Each nashis own particular, perhaps peculiar, per-

sonality.Cupid is like Jane Eyre - plain and

conservative _ yet beautiful, Our nomeis her Thornfield Hall; I am her' eccentric,headstrong Mr. Rochester. She r.oams thehouse in her gentle, un.obtrusive manner,craving only kindness, and beaming whenshown the least affection. Alas, she is buta prosaic old maid tor she is much too shyto attract suitors. Thinking, h.owever, that

perhaps she had a motherly instinct in her,we gave her two of the puppies. After shehad ove ., rcome her fear of the tiny, crawl-mg, squeaking doglets, she grew to lovethem as her own; Attempting to show hera~ection, she lifted a gigantic paw into theaIT and let it fall heavily on the tiny littlehead - 11a we -meant though somewhat

ungentle caress.Cupid is very sensitive - perpaps too

much so. The least remark will causetears to tcome 0 her eyes, and, as a martyr,under the bed she crawls; only the' mosttactful persuasi '11' 'asion WI bring her out agamand then she must be hugged and kissedto convince her that she's not the worstof slnnsr ThIS. ough she cannot read, Cupidknows Emily Post almost as well as 1. Asa perfect lady, she eats not a morsel of fooduntil it '1 IS offered to her, She seldom barks;only when she wants in the house does shesound her soft, soprano "Woof!" She keepsherself' .Immaculate - even her fingernailsare scrupulously clean. Unlike most mod-ern women, she possesses the gentle dignityand grace that become a queen.

Lambie, however, represents the all-American t .ype. She's fnvolous and verymuch of a flirt. She's never quiet - al-ways can be heard her unmusical "roostercrow" Sh.' e lacks social graces though shetnes desperately to learn. I could tell youthat she is small and white with black earsbut I' ', cannot describe her better than bysaying she looks exactly like a little fuzzy

lamb - and t .ac s Just like one. Incidently,

she also eats ivy, as all good little lambs do.

Lambie's pride and joy are her chub-

by brown and hitw 1 e quadruplets. Because

she pays so little attention to them now Ihave tak 'en over what my father calls my

"menagerie."wildtion.

Certainly no collection of

bear-cubs could require more atten-

For that reason we call the twins

Big Bear and Little Bear. Big Bear isvery intelligent. He figured out scienti-fically that there was a grand world out-side of his box and that by painfUlly scal-ing a long flight of stairs it was possible toreach that world. Little Bear is an ex-ample of the results of progressive educa-tion. Although most affectionate, he pre-sumes himself to be the center of the uni-verse, Lambie, Jr., is a miniature stereo-type of her mother. She's as cuddly andplayful as a kitten and as independent.Taffy, on the other hand, is rather soft-spoken and the beauty of the four, A moreaffectionate little family could not befound, for they stay as close to one anotheras a brood of chicks and sleep in a con-tortionist's nightmare of interwoven headsand limbs, Such devotion and brotherlylove is rarely found in families of human

beings.There are those who dream of a devoted

husband, a brand-new automobile, or abeautiful home. There are others whodesire success, fame, or a huge bankaccount. But my idea of happiness is this:I wish to own a huge pice of land, coveredwith woods and sunny meadows- Thisestate I would call Dogwood. As its nameimplies, it would be fllled to capacity withromping, healthy, happy dogs. The woodsand meadows would be theirs for huntingand hiking; I would provide comfortablekennels for them to sleep in and juicy beef-steaks for them to eat - a dogs' paradise.

Oh, that dreams were realities and realities

dreams!As a final thought I submit the follow-

ing, which might appropriately be called

"Doggerel: "Human friendships depend largely

on position. or wealth;

A dog loves his master because

he's himself.

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