The early history of the dog has been described, and the abomination in
which he was held by the Israelites. At no great distance of time,
however, we find him, almost in the neighbourhood of Palestine, in one
of the islands of the Ionian Sea, the companion and the friend of
princes, and deserving their regard.
reader will forgive a somewhat
abbreviated account of the last meeting of Ulysses and his dog.
Twenty years had passed since Argus, the favourite dog of Ulysses, had
been parted from his master. The monarch at length wended his way
homewards, and, disguised as a beggar, for his life would have been
sacrificed had he been known, stood at the entrance of his palace-door.
There he met with an old dependant, who had formerly served him with
fidelity and who was yet faithful to his memory; but age and hardship
and care, and the disguise which he now wore, had so altered the
wanderer that the good Eumæus had not the most distant suspicion with
whom he was conversing; but:
Near to the gates, conferring as they drew,
Argus the dog his ancient master knew,
And, not unconscious of the voice and tread
Lifts to the sound his ears, and rears his head.
He knew the lord, he knew, and strove to meet;
In vain he strove to crawl and kiss his feet;
Yet, all he could, his tail, his ears, his eyes
Salute his master, and confess his joys15.
Lord Byron, who had much experience and acquaintance with the canine
family, was rather sceptical as regards the memory of this animal,
having been, on one occasion, entirely forgotten by a favourite dog from
whom he was separated some considerable time, and in fact was most
savagely assailed by him, when on his return he attempted to caress him
as he was wont to do in former times.
This unkind reception at Newstead Abbey, on the part of his pampered
pet, may have given rise to the poet's feelings as embodied in the
following misanthropic lines:
"And now I'm in the world alone,
Upon the wide, wide sea:
But why should I for others groan,
When none will sigh for me?
Perchance my dog will whine in vain,
Till fed by stranger hands;
But long ere I come back again,
He'd tear me where he stands." — L.
In Daniel's
Rural Sports
, the account of a nobleman and his dog is
given. The nobleman had been absent two years on foreign service. On his
return this faithful creature was the first to recognise him, as he came
through the court-yard, and he flew to welcome his old master and
friend. He sprung upon him; his agitation and his joy knew not any
bounds; and at length, in the fulness of his transport, he fell at his
master's feet and expired.
An interesting circumstance, strongly exhibiting canine fidelity and
attachment in a large mastiff, came under the Editor's own eye during
his childhood, and which, from its striking character, deserves to be
recorded on the page of history as another testimony to the high moral
worth of these useful animals.
A gentleman of Baltimore, with his family, lived during a portion of the year a short distance in the country, and was in the habit of returning to the city late in the fall to pass the winter. On his estate there was a fine young mastiff, who though extremely cross to strangers, exhibited at all times a great degree of tenderness and affection for the younger branches of the family; — more particularly for the younger son, his most constant companion, and who would often steal secretly away to share his daily meal with this affectionate participator in his childish sports: or, when fatigued with romping together, would retire to the well-kept kennel, and recruit his limbs in a refreshing sleep, while reclining upon the body of the faithful dog. If the little truant should now be missed by those having him in charge, the most natural question to ask was, "Where is Rolla?" knowing full well that wherever this honest brute was, there might his young master be found also. On such occasions, however, this trusty guardian would refuse all solicitations to abandon his post, and express great dissatisfaction at any attempt to arouse or carry off his young charge, whom he continued to watch over till he awoke, refreshed from his slumber and eager again to resume their frolics.
The period of returning to the city at last arrived, and the dog exhibited marked signs of uneasiness, while the bustling preparations for this end were going on, as if conscious of the separation that was about to take place between his young master and himself, as also the other children, who had been his constant companions for so many joyful months.
Everything being completed, the childish group bid an affectionate adieu to the downcast Rolla, whom they left standing on the hill-top, watching the carriage as it disappeared in the wood. A few days after their departure, and when this poor animal was forgotten in the new scenes around them, a communication was received from the overseer of the farm, in which he stated that the favourite dog appeared much grieved since the family had left for the city, and was fearful that he might die if he continued in the same condition. Little attention, however, was given to these remarks, all imagining that the dog's melancholy was only the result of temporary distress, owing to his secluded life, so different from that which he had led when surrounded by the various members of a large family. Little did any one suppose that this poor neglected brute was suffering the acutest pangs of mental distress, even sufficient to produce death.
Two weeks had now elapsed since the separation from Rolla, when another message came from the overseer, stating that the dog would surely die with grief, if not removed to the city, as he had refused all sustenance for several days, and did nothing but wander about from place to place, formerly frequented by the children, howling and moaning in the most piteous manner.
Orders were now given, much to the children's delight, for the conveyance of the favourite to the city; but, alas! this arrangement came too late, as the poor creature sank from exhaustion, while in the wagon on his way to join those beloved companions whose short absence had broken his heart and grieved him even unto death. — L
A gentleman of Baltimore, with his family, lived during a portion of the year a short distance in the country, and was in the habit of returning to the city late in the fall to pass the winter. On his estate there was a fine young mastiff, who though extremely cross to strangers, exhibited at all times a great degree of tenderness and affection for the younger branches of the family; — more particularly for the younger son, his most constant companion, and who would often steal secretly away to share his daily meal with this affectionate participator in his childish sports: or, when fatigued with romping together, would retire to the well-kept kennel, and recruit his limbs in a refreshing sleep, while reclining upon the body of the faithful dog. If the little truant should now be missed by those having him in charge, the most natural question to ask was, "Where is Rolla?" knowing full well that wherever this honest brute was, there might his young master be found also. On such occasions, however, this trusty guardian would refuse all solicitations to abandon his post, and express great dissatisfaction at any attempt to arouse or carry off his young charge, whom he continued to watch over till he awoke, refreshed from his slumber and eager again to resume their frolics.
The period of returning to the city at last arrived, and the dog exhibited marked signs of uneasiness, while the bustling preparations for this end were going on, as if conscious of the separation that was about to take place between his young master and himself, as also the other children, who had been his constant companions for so many joyful months.
Everything being completed, the childish group bid an affectionate adieu to the downcast Rolla, whom they left standing on the hill-top, watching the carriage as it disappeared in the wood. A few days after their departure, and when this poor animal was forgotten in the new scenes around them, a communication was received from the overseer of the farm, in which he stated that the favourite dog appeared much grieved since the family had left for the city, and was fearful that he might die if he continued in the same condition. Little attention, however, was given to these remarks, all imagining that the dog's melancholy was only the result of temporary distress, owing to his secluded life, so different from that which he had led when surrounded by the various members of a large family. Little did any one suppose that this poor neglected brute was suffering the acutest pangs of mental distress, even sufficient to produce death.
Two weeks had now elapsed since the separation from Rolla, when another message came from the overseer, stating that the dog would surely die with grief, if not removed to the city, as he had refused all sustenance for several days, and did nothing but wander about from place to place, formerly frequented by the children, howling and moaning in the most piteous manner.
Orders were now given, much to the children's delight, for the conveyance of the favourite to the city; but, alas! this arrangement came too late, as the poor creature sank from exhaustion, while in the wagon on his way to join those beloved companions whose short absence had broken his heart and grieved him even unto death. — L
.
We will not further pursue this part of our subject at present. We shall
have other opportunities of speaking of the disinterested and devoted
affection which this noble animal is capable of displaying when he
occupies his proper situation, and discharges those offices for which
nature designed him. It may, however, be added that this power of
tracing back the dog to the very earliest periods of history, and the
fact that he then seemed to be as sagacious, as faithful, and as
valuable as at the present day, strongly favour the opinion that he
descended from no inferior and comparatively worthless animal, — that he
was not the progeny of the wolf, the jackal, or the fox, but he was
originally created, somewhat as we now find him, the associate and the
friend of man.
If, within the first thousand years after the Deluge, we observe that
divine honours were paid to him, we can scarcely be brought to believe
his wolfish genealogy. The must savage animals are capable of affection
for those to whom they have been accustomed, and by whom they have been
well treated, and therefore we give full credit to several accounts of
this sort related of the wolf, the lion, and even the cat and the
reptile: but in no other animal — in no other, even in the genus
Canis
— do we find the qualities of the domestic dog, or the
slightest approach to them.
"To his master he flies with alacrity," says the eloquent Buffon, "and submissively lays at his feet all his courage, strength, and talent. A glance of the eye is sufficient; for he understands the smallest indications of his will. He has all the ardour of friendship, and fidelity and constancy in his affections, which man can have. Neither interest nor desire of revenge can corrupt him, and he has no fear but that of displeasing. He is all zeal and obedience. He speedily forgets ill-usage, or only recollects it to make returning attachment the stronger. He licks the hand which causes him pain, and subdues his anger by submission. The training of the dog seems to have been the first art invented by man, and the fruit of that art was the conquest and peaceable possession of the earth."
"Man," says Burns, "is the God of the dog; he knows no other; and see how he worships him. With what reverence he crouches at his feet — with what reverence he looks up to him — with what delight he fawns upon him, and with what cheerful alacrity he obeys him!"
If any of the lower animals bear about them the impress of the Divine
hand, it is found in the dog: many others are plainly and decidedly more
or less connected with the welfare of the human being; but this
connexion and its effects are limited to a few points, or often to one
alone. The dog, different, yet the same, in every region, seems to be
formed expressly to administer to our comforts and to our pleasure. He
displays a versatility, and yet a perfect unity of power and character,
which mark him as our destined servant, and, still more, as our
companion and friend. Other animals may be brought to a certain degree
of familiarity, and may display much affection and gratitude. There was
scarcely an animal in the menagerie of the Zoological Society that did
not acknowledge the superintendent as his friend; but it was only a
casual intercourse, and might be dissolved by a word or look. At the
hour of feeding, the brute principle reigned supreme, and the companion
of other hours would be sacrificed if he dared to interfere; but the
connexion between man and the dog, no lapse of time, no change of
circumstances, no infliction of evil can dissolve. We must, therefore,
look far beyond the wolf for the prototype of the dog.
Cuvier eloquently states that the dog exhibits the most complete and the
most useful conquest that man has made. Each individual is entirely
devoted to his master, adopts his manners, distinguishes and defends his
property, and remains attached to him even unto death; and all this
springing not from mere necessity, or from constrain, but simply from
gratitude and true friendship. The swiftness, the strength, and the
highly developed power of smelling of the dog, have made him a powerful
ally of man against the other animals; and, perhaps, these qualities in
the dog were necessary to the establishment of society. It is the only
animal that has followed the human being all over the earth.
There is occasionally a friendship existing between dogs resembling that
which is found in the human being. The author pledges himself as to the
accuracy of the following little anecdote. Two dogs, the property of a
gentleman at Shrewsbury, had been companions for many years, until one
of them died of old age. The survivor immediately began to manifest an
extraordinary degree of restless anxiety, searching for his old
associate in all his former haunts, and refusing every kind of food. He
gradually wasted away, and, at the expiration of the tenth day, he died,
the victim of an attachment that would have done honour to man.
Dog, belongs to the division of animals termed
Vertebrated
, (see
The Horse,
2d edition, page 106), because it has a cranium or skull,
and a spine or range of
Vertebræ
proceeding from it. It ranks under the
class
Mammalia
, because it has teats, by which the female suckles
her young; the
tribe
Unguiculata
, because its extremities are
armed with nails; the
order
Digitigrades
, because it walks
principally on its toes. The
genus
Canis
has two tubercular teeth
behind the large carnivorous tooth in upper jaw; and the
sub-genus
familiaris
, the
Dog
, has the pupils of the eye circular, while those
of the wolf are oblique, and those of the fox upright and long.
has been some dispute whether the various species of dogs are of
different origin, or sprung from one common source. When we consider the
change that climate and breeding effect in the same species of dog, and
contrast the rough Irish or Highland greyhound with the smoother one of
the southern parts of Britain, or the more delicate one of Greece, or
the diminutive but beautifully formed one of Italy, or the hairless one
of Africa or Brazil — or the small Blenheim spaniel with the magnificent
Newfoundland; if also we observe many of them varied by accident, and
that accidental variety diligently cultivated into a new species,
altogether different in form or use, we shall find no difficulty in
believing that they might be derived from one common origin.
One of the most striking proofs of the influence of climate on the form
and character of this animal, occurs in the bull-dog. When transported
to India he becomes, in a few years, greatly altered in form, loses all
his former courage and ferocity, and becomes a perfect coward.
It is
that all dogs sprang from one common source, but climate,
food, and cross-breeding caused variations of form, which suggested
particular uses; and these being either designedly or accidentally
perpetuated, the various breeds of dogs thus arose, and they have become
numerous in proportion to the progress of civilization. Among the ruder,
or savage tribes, they possess but one form; but the ingenuity of man
has devised many inventions to increase his comforts: he has varied and
multiplied the characters and kinds of domestic animals for the same
purpose, and hence the various breeds of horses, and cattle, and dogs.
The parent stock it is now impossible to trace; but the wild dog,
wherever found on the continent of Asia, or Northern Europe, has nearly
the same character, and bears no inconsiderable resemblance to the
British fox-dog, while many of those from the Southern Ocean can
scarcely be distinguished from the English lurcher. There is, however,
no more difficulty in this respect with regard to the dog, than any
other of our domesticated animals. Climate, or chance, produced a change
in certain individuals, and the sagacity of man, or, perhaps, mere
chance, founded on these accidental varieties numerous breeds possessed
of certain distinct characteristic properties. The degeneracy of the
dog, also, in different countries, cannot for a moment be disputed.
most natural arrangement of all the varieties of the dog is
according to the development of the frontal sinus and the cerebral
cavity, or, in other words, the power of scent, and the degree of
intelligence. This classification originated with M.F. Cuvier, and has
been adopted by most naturalists. He reckoned three divisions of the dog:
- Those having the head more or less elongated, and the parietal
bones of the skull widest at the base, and gradually approaching
towards each other as they ascend, the condyls of the lower
jaw being on the same line with the upper molar teeth. The
Greyhound and all its varieties belong to this class.
- The head moderately elongated, and the parietals diverging
from each other for a certain space as they rise upon the side of
the head, enlarging the cerebral cavity and the frontal sinus. To
this class belong our most valuable dogs, — the Spaniel, Setter,
Pointer, Hound, and the Sheep-dog.
- The muzzle more or less shortened, the frontal sinus enlarged, and the cranium elevated, and diminished in capacity. To this class belong some of the Terriers, and a great many dogs that might very well be spared.
This division of the different species of the dog is adopted here as
being the most simple, intelligible, and satisfactory.
Gen
. iv. 2.
Deut
. xxiii. 18.
In some of Belzoni's beautiful sketches of the frieze-work
of the old Egyptian temples, the dog appears, with his long ears and
broad muzzle, not unlike the old Talbot hound.
Herodotus, lib. ii. c. 66.
No dog was suffered to come within the precincts of the
Temple at Jerusalem.
was a prevalent expression
among the Jews. Byrant's
Mythology
, vol. ii. p. 42.
Phil
. iii. 2.
Rev
. xxii. 15.
Job
xxx. 1. See also
Isaiah
lvi, 10, 11.
Psalm lix
. 6.
Carpenter's
Scripture Natural History
, p.109. It is a
remarkable fact that from this faithful animal, the companion of man,
and the guardian of his person and property, should originate as many
terms of reproach as "dog," "cur," "hound," "puppy," "dog-cheap," "a
dog's trick," "dog sick," "dog-weary," "to lead the life of a dog," "to
use like a dog." All this probably originated in the East, where the dog
was held in abhorrence as the common scavenger of the streets.
Arrian's
Cynegeticus
, cap 26.
New Sporting Magazine
, vol. xiv. p. 97.
Oppian's
Cynegeticus
, lib. i. v. 468-480.
"At contrà faciles, magnique Lycaones armis.
Sed non Hyrcanæ satis est vehementia genti."
Pope's
Odyssey
, xvii.
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Chapter II — The Varieties of the Dog — First Division
The head more or less elongated, the parietal bones widest at the base and gradually approaching to each other as they ascend, and the condyls of the lover jaw being on the same line with the upper molar teeth.
To this division belong the greater number of the
Wild Dogs.
The wild dog, as existing in considerable numbers or communities, seems
to be nearly extirpated in the southern parts of Europe; but there are
several cases on record, of dogs having assumed native independence. A
black greyhound bitch, belonging to a gentleman in Scarisbrick, in
Lancashire, though she had apparently been well broken in, and always
well used, ran away from the habitation of her master, and betook
herself to the woods. She killed a great number of hares and made free
with the sheep, and became an intolerable nuisance to the neighbourhood.
She was occasionally seen, and the depredations that were committed were
brought home to her. Many were the attempts made to entrap or destroy
her, but in vain: for more than six months she eluded the vigilance of
her pursuers. At length she was observed to creep into a hole in an old
barn. She was caught as she came out, and the barn being searched three
whelps were found, which, very foolishly, were destroyed.
The bitch evinced the utmost ferocity, and, although well secured,
attempted to seize every one who approached her. She was, however,
dragged home and treated with kindness. By degrees her ferocity abated.
In the course of two months, she became perfectly reconciled to her
original abode, and, a twelve-month afterwards (1822), she ran
successfully several courses. There was still a degree of wildness in
her appearance; but, although at perfect liberty, she seemed to be
altogether reconciled to a domestic life.
1784 a dog was left by a smuggling vessel on the coast of
Northumberland. He soon began to worry the sheep for his subsistence,
and did so much mischief that he caused very considerable alarm. He was
frequently pursued by hounds and greyhounds; but when the dogs came up
he lay upon his back as if supplicating for mercy, and in that position
they would never hurt him. He therefore lay quietly until the hunters
approached, when he made off without being followed by the hounds until
they were again excited to the pursuit. He one day led them 30 miles in
this way. It was more than three months before he was caught and was
then shot
.
A dog with every character of the wild one has occasionally been seen in
some of the forests of Germany, and among the Pyrenean mountains; but he
has rarely been found gregarious there. In the country on the eastern
side of the Gulf of Venice wild dogs are more frequent. They increase in
the Austrian and Turkish dominions, and are found on almost every part
of the coast of the Black Sea, but even there they rarely gather in
flocks: they do not howl in concert, as the wolf; nor are they the
precursors of other and larger beasts, like the jackal. Most of these
dogs have the muzzle and head elongated, the ears erect, triangular, and
small, the body and neck large and muscular, and the tail short, but
with a brush of crisped hair. In many parts of Arabia the wild dog — or
dakhun
— is occasionally found.
Persia, they are most decidedly
congregated together, and still more so in almost every part of India
.
Mr. Hodgson has favoured the Zoological Society with an account of
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The Wild Dog of Nepâl,
the
búánsú
, and, finding it more or less prevailing through the
whole of Northern India, and even southward of the coast of Coromandel,
he thought that he had discovered the primitive race of the dog. This is
a point that can never be decided.
"These dogs hunt their prey by night, as well as by day, in packs of from six to ten individuals, maintaining the chase more by the scent than by the eye, and generally succeeding by dint of strength and perseverance. While hunting, they bark like the hound, yet the bark is peculiar, and equally unlike that of the cultivated breeds of dogs, and the cries of the jackal and the fox."
Heber gives the following account of them.
"They are larger and stronger than a fox, which in the circumstances of form and fur they much resemble. They hunt, however, in packs, give tongue like dogs, and possess an exquisite scent. They make of course tremendous havoc among the game in these hills; but that mischief they are said amply to repay by destroying wild beasts, and even tigers."3
Wild dogs are susceptible of certain social combinations. In Egypt,
Constantinople, and throughout the whole of the East, there are in every
village troops of wandering dogs who belong to no particular person.
Each troop has its own quarter of the place; and if any wander into a
quarter which does not belong to him, its inhabitants unite together and
chase him out.
the Cape of Good Hope there are many dogs
half-starved. On going from home the natives induce two or more of these
animals to accompany them, warn them of the approach of any ferocious
animal, and if any of the jackals approach the walls during the night,
they utter the most piercing cries, and at this signal every dog sallies
out, and, uniting together, put the jackals to speedy flight
.
wild Nepâl dogs caught when at an adult age make no approach towards
domestification; but a young one, which Mr. Hodgson obtained when it was
not more than a month old, became sensible to caresses, and manifested
as much intelligence as any sporting dog of the same age
.
T. Williamson gives an interesting account of the ferocious
character of some of these wild dogs.
"They have considerable resemblance to the jackal in form. They are remarkably savage, and frequently will approach none but their doonahs or keepers, not allowing their own masters to come near them. Some of them are very fleet; but they are not to be depended upon in coursing; for they are apt suddenly to give up the chase when it is a severe one, and, indeed, they will too often prefer a sheep or a goat to a hare. In hog-hunting they are more valuable. It seems to suit their temper, and they appear to enjoy the snapping and the snarling, incident to that species of sports."
He says that many persons affect to treat the idea of degeneration in
quadrupeds with ridicule;
all who have been any considerable time
resident in India must be satisfied that dogs of European breed become,
after every successive generation, more and more similar to the pariah,
or indigenous dog of that country. The hounds are the most rapid in
their decline, and, except in the form of their ears, they are very much
like many of the village curs. Greyhounds and pointers also rapidly
decline, although with occasional exceptions. Spaniels and terriers
deteriorate less, and spaniels of eight or nine generations, and without
a cross from Europe, are not only as good as, but far more beautiful
than, their ancestors. The climate is too severe for mastiffs, and they
do not possess sufficient stamina; but, crossed by the East Indian
greyhound, they are invaluable in hunting the hog
.
Colonel Sykes, at one of the meetings of the Zoological Society,
produced a specimen of
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The Wild Dog of Dakhun
or Deccan, a part of India far to the south of Nepâl, and gave the
following description of this supposed primitive dog:
"Its head is compressed and elongated, but its muzzle not very sharp. The eyes are oblique, the pupils round, and the irides light-brown. The expression of the countenance is that of a coarse ill-natured Persian greyhound, without any resemblance to the jackal, the fox, or the wolf. The ears are long, erect, and somewhat rounded at the top. The limbs remarkably large and strong in relation to the bulk of the animal. The size is intermediate between the wolf and the jackal. The neck long, the body elongated, and the entire dog of a red-brown colour. None of the domesticated dogs of Dakhun are common in Europe, but those of Dakhun and Nepâl are very similar in all their characters. There is also a dog in Dakhun with hair so short as to make him appear naked. It is called the polugar dog."
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