Wonderful Anecdotes of Dogs by Edward Jesse 1858
The affection which some dogs show to their masters and mistresses is not only very often surprising, but even affecting. An instance of this lately occurred at Brighton. The wife of a member of the town council at that place had been an invalid for some time, and at last was confined to her bed. During this period she was constantly attended by a faithful and affectionate dog, who either slept in her room or outside her door. She died, was buried, and the dog followed the remains of his beloved mistress to her grave. After the funeral the husband and his friends returned to the house, and while they were partaking of some refreshment the dog put its paws on his master's arm, as if to attract his attention, looked wistfully in his face, and then laid down and instantly expired.
In giving miscellaneous anecdotes in order to show the general character of the dog, I may mention the following very curious one.
During a very severe frost and fall of snow in Scotland, the fowls did not make their appearance at the hour when they usually retired to roost, and no one knew what had become of them; the house-dog at last entered the kitchen, having in his mouth a hen, apparently dead. Forcing his way to the fire, the sagacious animal laid his charge down upon the warm hearth, and immediately set off. He soon came again with another, which he deposited in the same place, and so continued till the whole of the poor birds were rescued. Wandering about the stack-yard, the fowls had become quite benumbed by the extreme cold, and had crowded together, when the dog observing them, effected their deliverance, for they all revived by the warmth of the fire.
That dogs possess a faculty nearly allied to reason cannot, I think, be doubted. Mr. Davy, in his "Angler in the Lake District," (a charming work), gives one or two anecdotes in proof of this.
When Mr. Davy was at Ceylon, the Governor of that Island, the late Sir Robert Brownrigg, had a dog of more than ordinary sagacity. He always accompanied his master, being allowed to do so, except on particular occasions, such as going to church or council, or to inspect his troops, when the Governor usually wore his sword; but when the dog saw the sword girded on, he would only follow to the outer door. Without a word being said, he would return and wait the coming back of his master, patiently remaining up-stairs at the door of his private apartment. So it is with respect to my own pet terrier, Phiz. When he sees me putting on my walking-shoes, my great-coat, or hat, he is all eagerness to accompany me, jumping about me and showing his joy. But on Sundays it is very different. My shoes, great-coat or hat, may be put on, but he remains perfectly resigned on the rug before the fire, and never attempts or shows any inclination to follow me. Is the dog guided in acting thus by instinct or reason?
Let me give another instance from Mr. Davy's work.
Once when he was fishing in the highlands of Scotland, he saw a party of sportsmen, with their dogs, cross the stream, the men wading, the dogs swimming, with the exception of one, who stopped on the bank piteously howling. After a few minutes he suddenly ceased, and started off full speed for a higher part of the stream. Mr. Davy was able to keep him in view, and he did not stop till he came to a spot where a plank connected the banks, on which he crossed dry-footed, and soon joined his companions.
Dogs have sometimes strange fancies with respect to moving from one place to another. A Fellow of a College at Cambridge had a dog, which sometimes took it into his head to visit his master's usual places of resort in London. He would then return to his home in Suffolk, and then go to Cambridge, remaining at each place as long as he felt disposed to do so, and going and returning with the most perfect indifference and complacency.
The extraordinary sense of a dog was shown in the following instance. A gentleman, residing near Pontypool, had his horse brought to his house by a servant. While the man went to the door, the horse ran away and made his escape to a neighbouring mountain. A dog belonging to the house saw this, and of his own accord followed the horse, got hold of the bridle and brought him back to the door.
I have been informed of two instances of dogs having slipped their collars and put their heads into them again of their own accord, after having committed depredations in the night, and I have elsewhere mentioned the fact of a dog, now in my possession, who undid the collar of another dog chained to a kennel near him. These are curious instances of sense and sagacity.
Mr. Bell, in his "History of British Quadrupeds," gives us the following fact of a dog belonging to a friend of his. This gentleman dropped a louis d'or one morning, when he was on the point of leaving his house. On returning late at night, he was told by his servant that the dog had fallen sick, and refused to eat, and, what appeared very strange, she would not suffer him to take her food away from before her, but had been lying with her nose close to the vessel, without attempting to touch it. On Mr. Bell's friend entering the room, the dog instantly jumped upon him, laid the money at his feet, and began to devour her victuals with great voracity.
It is a curious fact that dogs can count time. I had, when a boy, a favourite terrier, which always went with me to church. My mother, thinking that he attracted too much of my attention, ordered the servant to fasten him up every Sunday morning. He did so once or twice, but never afterwards. Trim concealed himself every Sunday morning, and either met me as I entered the church, or I found him under my seat in the pew. Mr. Southey, in his "Omniana," informs us that he knew of a dog, which was brought up by a Catholic and afterwards sold to a Protestant, but still he refused to eat anything on a Friday.
Dogs have been known to die from excess of joy at seeing their masters after a long absence. An English officer had a large dog, which he left with his family in England, while he accompanied an expedition to America during the war of the Colonies. Throughout his absence, the animal appeared very much dejected. When the officer returned home, the dog, who happened to be lying at the door of an apartment into which his master was about to enter, immediately recognised him, leapt upon his neck, licked his face, and in a few minutes fell dead at his feet. A favourite spaniel of a lady recently died on seeing his beloved mistress after a long absence.
The affection which some dogs show to their masters and mistresses is not only very often surprising, but even affecting. An instance of this lately occurred at Brighton. The wife of a member of the town council at that place had been an invalid for some time, and at last was confined to her bed. During this period she was constantly attended by a faithful and affectionate dog, who either slept in her room or outside her door. She died, was buried, and the dog followed the remains of his beloved mistress to her grave. After the funeral the husband and his friends returned to the house, and while they were partaking of some refreshment the dog put its paws on his master's arm, as if to attract his attention, looked wistfully in his face, and then laid down and instantly expired.
In giving miscellaneous anecdotes in order to show the general character of the dog, I may mention the following very curious one.
During a very severe frost and fall of snow in Scotland, the fowls did not make their appearance at the hour when they usually retired to roost, and no one knew what had become of them; the house-dog at last entered the kitchen, having in his mouth a hen, apparently dead. Forcing his way to the fire, the sagacious animal laid his charge down upon the warm hearth, and immediately set off. He soon came again with another, which he deposited in the same place, and so continued till the whole of the poor birds were rescued. Wandering about the stack-yard, the fowls had become quite benumbed by the extreme cold, and had crowded together, when the dog observing them, effected their deliverance, for they all revived by the warmth of the fire.
That dogs possess a faculty nearly allied to reason cannot, I think, be doubted. Mr. Davy, in his "Angler in the Lake District," (a charming work), gives one or two anecdotes in proof of this.
When Mr. Davy was at Ceylon, the Governor of that Island, the late Sir Robert Brownrigg, had a dog of more than ordinary sagacity. He always accompanied his master, being allowed to do so, except on particular occasions, such as going to church or council, or to inspect his troops, when the Governor usually wore his sword; but when the dog saw the sword girded on, he would only follow to the outer door. Without a word being said, he would return and wait the coming back of his master, patiently remaining up-stairs at the door of his private apartment. So it is with respect to my own pet terrier, Phiz. When he sees me putting on my walking-shoes, my great-coat, or hat, he is all eagerness to accompany me, jumping about me and showing his joy. But on Sundays it is very different. My shoes, great-coat or hat, may be put on, but he remains perfectly resigned on the rug before the fire, and never attempts or shows any inclination to follow me. Is the dog guided in acting thus by instinct or reason?
Let me give another instance from Mr. Davy's work.
Once when he was fishing in the highlands of Scotland, he saw a party of sportsmen, with their dogs, cross the stream, the men wading, the dogs swimming, with the exception of one, who stopped on the bank piteously howling. After a few minutes he suddenly ceased, and started off full speed for a higher part of the stream. Mr. Davy was able to keep him in view, and he did not stop till he came to a spot where a plank connected the banks, on which he crossed dry-footed, and soon joined his companions.
Dogs have sometimes strange fancies with respect to moving from one place to another. A Fellow of a College at Cambridge had a dog, which sometimes took it into his head to visit his master's usual places of resort in London. He would then return to his home in Suffolk, and then go to Cambridge, remaining at each place as long as he felt disposed to do so, and going and returning with the most perfect indifference and complacency.
The extraordinary sense of a dog was shown in the following instance. A gentleman, residing near Pontypool, had his horse brought to his house by a servant. While the man went to the door, the horse ran away and made his escape to a neighbouring mountain. A dog belonging to the house saw this, and of his own accord followed the horse, got hold of the bridle and brought him back to the door.
I have been informed of two instances of dogs having slipped their collars and put their heads into them again of their own accord, after having committed depredations in the night, and I have elsewhere mentioned the fact of a dog, now in my possession, who undid the collar of another dog chained to a kennel near him. These are curious instances of sense and sagacity.
Mr. Bell, in his "History of British Quadrupeds," gives us the following fact of a dog belonging to a friend of his. This gentleman dropped a louis d'or one morning, when he was on the point of leaving his house. On returning late at night, he was told by his servant that the dog had fallen sick, and refused to eat, and, what appeared very strange, she would not suffer him to take her food away from before her, but had been lying with her nose close to the vessel, without attempting to touch it. On Mr. Bell's friend entering the room, the dog instantly jumped upon him, laid the money at his feet, and began to devour her victuals with great voracity.
It is a curious fact that dogs can count time. I had, when a boy, a favourite terrier, which always went with me to church. My mother, thinking that he attracted too much of my attention, ordered the servant to fasten him up every Sunday morning. He did so once or twice, but never afterwards. Trim concealed himself every Sunday morning, and either met me as I entered the church, or I found him under my seat in the pew. Mr. Southey, in his "Omniana," informs us that he knew of a dog, which was brought up by a Catholic and afterwards sold to a Protestant, but still he refused to eat anything on a Friday.
Dogs have been known to die from excess of joy at seeing their masters after a long absence. An English officer had a large dog, which he left with his family in England, while he accompanied an expedition to America during the war of the Colonies. Throughout his absence, the animal appeared very much dejected. When the officer returned home, the dog, who happened to be lying at the door of an apartment into which his master was about to enter, immediately recognised him, leapt upon his neck, licked his face, and in a few minutes fell dead at his feet. A favourite spaniel of a lady recently died on seeing his beloved mistress after a long absence.
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