“Youth’s romance was done and over,
Hail the dawn of serious life!”
But we know that education can never truly be considered as finished,
and that when a young lady dismisses her governess she must devote half
an hour in the morning to reading Motley’s “Dutch Republics,” and Mrs.
Jamieson’s “Italian Painters.” Even so when we settled down at last it
was unanimously agreed that Taffy must not be allowed to consider his
education complete, but must come in every evening to share dessert and
enjoy the cultivation of his mind.
[Illustration: _Photograph by S. A. McDowall_
“Taffy.”]
As Taffy has “come out,” it is time surely to attempt something of a
personal description. He may be described as distinguished in the
true sense of the word, for England and Wales have combined to produce
a somewhat remarkable blend of colour; luckily they have not quarrelled
about the eyes, which are both of the same pleasant brown. His grey,
curly back is blotched with black, his legs, cheeks, and eyebrows are
a yellow tan. But however opinion may differ about this hyæna-like
colouring, all collie lovers would be agreed in admiring his excellent
figure, his lithe, agile action, and his well-bred, intelligent head.
His family swell with pride as they hear passing remarks on his
appearance in the street; they were, in fact, a little disturbed by the
glances cast at the rear of their party until they realised that in all
the district there was no dog the least like Taffy.
But Taffy is taught to preserve a modest demeanour; he is well snubbed
if in excitement over a piece of paper he postures too much, like a dog
in a chromo-lithograph--crouching forepaws, a plumy tail wagging, ears
raised, and mouth open to show a healthy crimson tongue.
Although Taffy had come out, a strict eye had to be kept on his manners
for a time. It was all very well to object to the dustman entering at
the garden door. I do not altogether wonder at his entertaining such
suspicions of an honest mechanic, who was mending the bells, that he
had to be provided with an escort across the garden; it was perhaps
even pardonable to give “what for” to a guest who had peevishly
declared that he hated dogs. But it was _not_ right to bite our
landlord, nor to growl at a perfectly amiable visitor at afternoon tea;
it was not fair to smell people’s boots merely because they were timid,
nor proper to close his teeth on the leg of my brother’s best friend
simply because he had not seen him before. A dog should not growl at
housemaids because they want to sweep under the mat he is sitting on,
nor should he take offence at being asked to leave the room while
furniture is arranged.
But all these things are long past, and it is not well to recall them.
Let us only remember that Taffy was always pleasant to ladies, and that
if he had to receive a caller he often thought of bringing a pebble
from the garden, or a lump of coal from the scuttle to amuse her while
she waited. Guests who were staying in the house he would keep happy
for hours together by letting them throw sticks for him.
There are a few blacker shadows in Taffy’s life, and it will not do to
blink them.
It was only the natural, impulsive haste of youth which made him jump
through the cucumber frame in pursuit of the sandy cat; but it was a
more deliberate indiscretion, a more sinister motive, that moved him
to jump in through the garden-room window when he thought no one was
indoors.
The old cat had meals served in her own apartment, opening out of the
garden-room. This apartment, in which she also slept, was in appearance
like a large cupboard, with an easy latch. The garden-room windows were
open all the day, and it was not infrequently observed that the cat’s
plate was polished as by a large wet tongue. Taffy was more than once
caught springing lightly into the room; he assumed a surprised and
guilty expression if he found any one there, and hastily withdrew.
He was also marked from time to time coming down the passage with the
same air of secret satisfaction, mingled with slight apprehension, as
on the day when he stole the coachman’s beefsteak. So far we could only
register suspicious circumstances.
But one evening at lesson time he was missing. We called him all over
the house, and heard no strangled whine or scratching paw. At last I
went to the cat’s cupboard, where a thrilling silence seemed to weigh
upon the air. I turned the handle, and, as if shot from a gun, cat and
dog burst out together. Oh, the tension of those hours since they had
got shut up, and the miracle by which they had both kept their heads!
No doubt Taffy, curling through the door with a sinuous, guilty motion,
had pulled it after him, and the easy latch had shut, and there they
were together, with nerves strained and tense. Taffy, however, to do
him justice, had kept cool enough to clean the plate.
Let us turn to a lighter, brighter side.
Taffy, as I said, had no vulgar pride, but he had to be taught the
subtleties of social relations. If he had had a truer instinct on this
point he would have saved us from the indignity of seeing him prefer
to follow an empty cab with which he was acquainted, to continuing his
walk in our company. But he soon learnt discrimination; and though he
was very fond of the cab itself, and attached to both horse and driver,
he found it better to preserve a certain standard in these matters.
Thus with all those whom he did not suspect of base ulterior motives
Taffy soon became a mighty favourite. He was known and welcomed on
the golf links, at least until his presence became, with his growing
ease of manner, a slight embarrassment; he was known in the school,
and hailed Sunday with delight, when “Winchester men” came to lunch in
order to throw sticks for him and give him catalogues to tear up. He
was known in the street, where he would wait outside shops if he were
particularly asked to do so; if he was not informed of our intention,
he either entered the shop rather rudely or went home. Once he came
into the Cathedral, and was so terrified by the vast spaces, the gloom,
and the silence, that when his agitated mistress rose from her seat to
expel him he fled abruptly to the door and never again entered. For the
future he lounged about the Close when we went in, and congratulated us
when we emerged from the mysterious, gloomy emptiness.
Once a policeman had to ring his own front-door bell for him; we,
cheerfully lunching inside, had not missed him, and did not understand
at first why he came in in such a wild bustle of self-importance,
crying out, in a high voice, apology and congratulation. He was like
a little boy who felt that he had had quite an adventure. It may have
been the ready comprehension of this man which gave Taffy so strong
an affection for the force. I had to wait at the gaol once when he
managed, by repeated blandishments, to scrape acquaintance with the
constable on duty. Out of the corner of an eye I watched him laying
small offerings of pebbles and sticks at the policeman’s feet. As these
could not tempt, he sought out a small battered tin toy, which the
policeman solemnly picked up and laid aside. Finally Taffy rummaged in
the bushes and returned triumphant, bearing an offering that could not
fail to please--a tramp’s boot. The man was utterly melted, and with a
furtive foot jerked pebbles out of the gravel for the dog to fetch.
The progress of Taffy’s lessons was beset with few drawbacks. He learnt
the English “Shake-hand” in one lesson, and will give the other paw,
or both together, when required. No dog likes to be asked to die for
any cause whatever, but Taffy consented to do it, with a sidelong eye
and much protest. He jumped with only too much vigour, and was seized
with wild desire to lick one’s face in passing. He liked to shut the
door and sit in a chair, but his energetic performance scratched them
both so much that he had to stop. He could hold a piece of ginger-bread
in his mouth till he was assured it was paid for, when he swallowed
it whole, with a deep sigh and snore. But his supreme performance,
requiring an exhausting amount of concentration, is to distinguish
between _played for_ and _prayed for_ and _paved for_ and _paid for_.
It is at this last only that he eats it, but _paved for_ makes him turn
his head until he distinguishes the “_v_.” No change of tone affects
this; _trust_ may be whispered, _paid for_ threatened. It requires
merely an undivided attention and an unprejudiced mind. If he makes up
his mind that _paid_ for is coming fourth in the list he stares with
stupid eyes at the sound of it; or he eats it gaily at _prayed for_ if
he is not attending. If people laugh he thinks it funny to eat it at
“_parochial_” or “_pantechnicon_.” But if he looks at the ground, so as
not to catch the eye of light-minded friends; if he turns away his head
so as not to be disturbed by the delights of ginger-bread, and if he
listens very attentively, he can think.
This is the great value of tricks to the dog, as of mathematics to the
man. And Taffy does think; he pauses at an emergency and carries out a
plan, simple no doubt, but sufficiently intelligent.
Taffy had a stick too long for convenient throwing, tough and hard.
His companion tried to break it, putting her foot upon it and bending
it up. When she was tired Taffy pounced upon it, put his paw on it in
the same manner, and bent it likewise. Thus they took turns at it till
the stick broke. Another long stick was thrown across a gate; he tried
to go through the gate holding the stick horizontally, but the bars
prevented it; so he took it by one end and dragged it through.
He was accustomed to drop on the ground sticks that were to be thrown
for him; but finding that a bicyclist could not reach them, held them
of his own accord high up, so that they could be taken from him.
Once in swimming across a stream he was carried down some way by the
current before he could land on the opposite bank. He was called
back but was afraid to attempt recrossing, and after a pause for
thought darted away and crossed a bridge quite out of sight, which
his companion had forgotten. Once we had been rolling a ball for him
in the conservatory, and it lodged under the plant stands where the
tiers were too low to let him through. After trying unsuccessfully to
get it he lay down, but when every one else had forgotten the matter,
got up quietly and going to a place where the tiers were broken away,
walked round under them until he could reach the ball. It is amusing
to watch his triumph at having discovered a short cut, hidden from
sight, across a loop of road; or his pride in carrying out such a
simple stratagem as the following: In the town there lived a gang of
five dogs, against whom, of course, no single dog had any chance. We
met them while we were driving one day. Taffy saw them first, and,
knowing them of old, paused a moment to think. Then he turned and
ran, apparently homewards, all five dogs in full cry after him. But
it was a gate a little way behind he was making for; he crossed it
first and headed off across a field at right angles to the road; he
was the fastest runner, and the dogs panted and fell back. When one
terrier only remained he turned again, made a long line to catch us up,
squeezing through a gap which it would have been madness to attempt
with the pack behind him, and rejoined us with cocked tail, looking for
applause.
It is this quick intelligence of Taffy’s which renders daily
intercourse so easy and so pleasant. If he knows you drive daily, the
sound of the front door bell at the accustomed time will bring him to
the door, to lie gently whining till it is opened. If you have no habit
of driving, but tell him the carriage is there, he rushes off to find
it; or you explain to him that it is coming after a time, and he haunts
you till the promise is fulfilled. You tell him that he cannot come to
church, and he remains behind with downcast, puzzled face; or you tell
him to fetch his hat for a walk (the term has quite reconciled him to
his muzzle), and he runs to bring it. It is true that if the muzzle
is not in place he may bring any small handy object instead--some one
else’s hat, the clothes brush, a Bible, or a hand bag, for he seems to
regard the action as symbolic. If you feel dull, Taffy will turn out
the waste-paper basket and find you a crumpled envelope; if you are
inclined for affection he overwhelms you with demonstration.
In almost every mood or occupation Taffy is delighted to bear you
company. There are only two things he cannot stand--one is golf and one
is gardening.