CHAPTER V.

THE GOOD QUALITIES OF THE DOG; THE SENSE OF SMELL; INTELLIGENCE; MORAL

QUALITIES; DOG-CARTS; CROPPING; TAILING; BREAKING-IN; DOG-PITS;

DOG-STEALING.

In our history of the different breeds of the dog we have seen enough to

induce us to admire and love him. His courage, his fidelity, and the

degree in which he often devotes every power that he possesses to our

service, are circumstances that we can never forget nor overlook. His

very foibles occasionally attach him to us. We may select a pointer for

the pureness of his blood and the perfection of his education. He

transgresses in the field. We call him to us; we scold him well;

perchance, we chastise him. He lies motionless and dumb at our feet. The

punishment being over, he gets up, and, by some significant gesture,

acknowledges his consciousness of deserving what he has suffered. The

writer operated on a pointer bitch for an enlarged cancerous tumour,

accompanied by much inflammation and pain in the surrounding parts. A

word or two of kindness and of caution were all that were necessary,

although, in order to prevent accidents, she had been bound securely.

The flesh quivered as the knife pursued its course--a moan or two

escaped her, but yet she did not struggle; and her first act, after all

was over, was to lick the operator's hand.

From the combination of various causes, the history of no animal is more

interesting than that of the dog. First, his intimate association with

man, not only as a valuable protector, but as a constant and faithful

companion throughout all the vicissitudes of life. Secondly, from his

natural endowments, not consisting in the exquisite delicacy of one

individual sense--not merely combining memory with reflection--but

possessing qualities of the mind that stagger us in the contemplation of

them, and which we can alone account for in the gradation existing in

that wonderful system which, by different links of one vast chain,

extends from the first to the last of all things, until it forms a

perfect whole on the wonderful confines of the spiritual and material

world.

We here quote the beautiful account of Sir Walter Scott and his dogs, as

described by Henry Hallam:

"But looking towards the grassy mound

Where calm the Douglass chieftains lie,

Who, living, quiet never found,

I straightway learnt a lesson high;

For there an old man sat serene,

And well I knew that thoughtful mien

Of him whose early lyre had thrown

O'er mouldering walls the magic of its tone.

It was a comfort, too, to see

Those dogs that from him ne'er would rove,

And always eyed him reverently,

With glances of depending love.

They know not of the eminence

Which marks him to my reasoning sense,

They know but that he is a man,

And still to them is kind, and glads them all he can

And hence their quiet looks confiding;

Hence grateful instincts seated deep

By whose strong bond, were ill betiding,

They'd lose their own, his life to keep.

What joy to watch in lower creature

Such dawning of a moral nature,

And how (the rule all things obey)

They look to a higher mind to be their law and stay!"

The subject of the intellectual and moral qualities of the inferior

animals is one highly interesting and somewhat misunderstood--urged

perhaps to a ridiculous extent by some persons, yet altogether neglected

by others who have no feeling for any but themselves.

Anatomists have compared the relative bulk of the brain in different

animals, and the result is not a little interesting. In man the weight

of the brain amounts on the average to 1-30th part of the body. In the

Newfoundland dog it does not amount to 1-60th part, or to 1-100th part

in the poodle and barbet, and not to more than 1-300th part in the

ferocious and stupid bull-dog.

When the brain is cut, it is found to be composed of two substances,

essentially different in construction and function--the cortical and the

medullary. The first is small in quantity, and principally concerned in

the food and reproduction of the animal, and the cineritious in a great

measure the register of the mind. Brute strength seems to be the

character of the former, and superior intelligence of the latter. There

is, comparing bulk with bulk, less of the medullary substance in the

horse than in the ox--and in the dog than in the horse--and they are

characterized as the sluggish ox, the intelligent horse, and the

intellectual and companionable dog.

From the medullary substance proceed certain cords or prolongations,

termed 'nerves', by which the animal is enabled to receive impressions

from surrounding objects and to connect himself with them, and also to

possess many pleasurable or painful sensations. One of them is spread

over the membrane of the nose, and gives the sense of smell; another

expands on the back of the eye, and the faculty of sight is gained; a

third goes to the internal structure of the ear and the animal is

conscious of sound. Other nerves, proceeding to different parts, give

the faculty of motion, while an equally important one bestows the power

of feeling. One division, springing from a prolongation of the brain,

and yet within the skull, wanders to different parts of the frame, for

important purposes connected with respiration or breathing. The act of

breathing is essential to life, and were it to cease, the animal would

die.

There are other nerves--the sympathetic--so called from their union and

sympathy with all the others, and identified with life itself. They

proceed from a small ganglion or enlargement in the upper part of the

neck, or from a collection of minute ganglia within the abdomen. They go

to the heart, and it beats; and to the stomach, and it digests. They

form a net-work round each vessel, and the frame is nourished and built

up. They are destitute of sensation, and they are perfectly beyond the

control of the will.

We have been accustomed, and properly, to regard the nervous system, or

that portion of it which is connected with animal life--that which

renders us conscious of surrounding objects and susceptible of pleasure

and of pain--as the source of intellectual power and moral feeling. It

is so with ourselves. All our knowledge is derived from our perception

of things around as. A certain impression is made on the outward fibres

of a sensitive nerve. That impression, in some mysterious way, is

conveyed to the brain; and there it is received--registered--stored--and

compared; there its connections are traced and its consequences

appreciated; and thence a variety of interesting impressions are

conveyed, and due use is made of them.

THE SENSE OF SMELL

Our subject--the intellectual and moral feelings of brutes, and the

mechanism on which they depend--may be divided into two parts, the

portion that receives and conveys, and that which stores up and compares

and uses the impression.

The portion that receives and conveys is far more developed in the brute

than in the human being. Whatever sense we take, we clearly perceive the

triumph of animal power.

The olfactory nerve in the horse, the dog, the ox, and the swine, is the

largest of all the cerebral nerves, and has much greater comparative

bulk in the quadruped than in the human being. The sense of smell,

bearing proportion to the nerve on which it depends, is yet more acute.

In man it is connected with pleasure--in the inferior animals with life.

The relative size of the nerve bears an invariable proportion to the

necessity of an acute sense of smell in the various animals--large in

the horse compared with the olfactory nerve in the human being--larger

in the ox, who is often sent into the fields to shift for

himself--larger still in the swine, whose food is buried under the soil,

or deeply immersed in the filth or refuse,--and still larger in the dog,

the acuteness of whose scent is so connected with our pleasure.

[The disposition to hunt by scent is not peculiar to the setter or

pointer, but in fact is common to all animals; developing itself in

different proportions according to their various physical constructions

and modes of life. The method of finding and pointing at game, now

peculiar to these dogs, and engendered in their progeny through

successive generations, is not the result of any special instinct, that

usually governs the actions of the brute creation--but rather the effect

of individual education and force of habit upon their several ancestors.

This habit of life, engrafted through progressive generations into these

breeds, has become a second nature, and so entirely the property of the

species, that all its members, with but little care on the part of man,

will perform these same actions in the same way, and will ever continue

to exhibit these propensities for hunting, provided opportunities be

offered for indulging them. Nevertheless, as these peculiar

predilections for "'setting or pointing'," as before said, are the

effect of education and habit, the artificial impulse would very soon be

entirely obliterated, if not encouraged in the young dogs of each

generation. This circumstance alone, proves to us the importance of

getting dogs from a well-known good strain, whose ancestors have been

remarkable for their exploits in the field. This necessary precaution

will insure a favourable issue to our troubles, and lessen materially

our labours. In fact young puppies have been frequently known to exhibit

this propensity the first time they have been taken to the field. Some

of these dogs have come under the notice of the writer, who at a few

months old exhibited all the peculiarities of their race; in fact were

"self-broke." These dogs were the progeny of a well-known imported

stock, in the possession of a gentleman who selected them in England.

Although other dogs, and other animals even, have been with great

difficulty and perseverance taught to find and point game, still these

two breeds seem especially adapted by nature, both in their physical and

intellectual construction, for the performance of this particular duty

to man.

The sense of smell is differently developed in different animals; the

olfactory nerve of the dog is larger than any other in the cerebrum,

which peculiarity will at once account for their wonderful powers of

scent.

'Swine', also, have these nerves largely developed; and necessarily so,

as both in a state of nature or half-civilization, the greater portion

of their food is buried under the earth or mingled with the filth and

mire of their sties, and would pass unheeded, if not for the acuteness

of their nasal organs.

In Daniels' "Rural Sports," will be found an interesting account of a

sow having been taught to find and point game of various kinds, and

often having been known to stand on partridges at a distance of forty

yards, which is more than can reasonably be expected of every first-rate

dog. She was not only broke to find and stand game, but hunted with the

dogs, and backed successfully when on a point. This extraordinary animal

evinced great aptness for learning, and afterwards great enthusiasm in

the sport; showing symptoms of pleasure at the sight of a gun, or when

called upon to accompany a party to the field. Her hunting was not

confined to any particular game, but stood equally well on partridges,

pheasants, snipes, rabbits, &c. (See Blaine, part vii, chap, iii, page

792.)

Most of animals instinctively employ the organ of scent to seek out

food, or avert personal danger, in preference to that of sight; but some

depend more upon the latter than the former, either from instinct or the

force of education.

For instance, the greyhound, though equally gifted with the sense of

smell, as that of sight, has been taught to depend upon the one organ to

the entire exclusion of the other, which is quite the reverse of the

setter and pointer; but the wonderful speed of these dogs renders it

quite unnecessary that he should employ the olfactory nerves, as no

animal, however swift, can hope to escape from him in a fair race, when

once near enough to be seen; though there are some that may elude his

grasp by a "'ruse de guerre'" when too hardly pressed. ('Extracted from

our essay in No. 1, vol. xvi, of the "Spirit of the Times.'")--L.]

INTELLIGENCE

We find little mention of insanity in the domesticated animals in any of

our modern authors, whether treating on agriculture, horsemanship, or

veterinary medicine, and yet there are some singular and very

interesting cases of aberration of intellect. The inferior animals are,

to a certain extent, endowed with the same faculties as ourselves. They

are even susceptible of the same moral qualities. Hatred, love, fear,

hope, joy, distress, courage, timidity, jealousy, and many varied

passions influence and agitate them, as they do the human being. The dog

is an illustration of this---the most susceptible to every

impression--approaching the nearest to man in his instincts, and in many

actions that surprise the philosopher, who justly appreciates it.

What eagerness to bite is often displayed by the dog when labouring

under enteritis, and especially by him who has imbibed the poison of

rabies! How singular is the less dangerous malady which induces the

horse and the dog to press unconsciously forward under the influence of

vertigo!--the eagerness with which, when labouring under phrenitis, he

strikes at everything with his foot, or rushes upon it to seize it with

his teeth! A kind of nostalgia is often recognised in that depression

which nothing can dissipate, and the invincible aversion to food, by

means of which many animals perish, who are prevented from returning to

the place where they once lived, and the localities to which they had

been accustomed.

These are circumstances proving that the dog is endowed with

intelligence and with affections like ours; and, if they do not equal

ours, they are of the same character.

With regard to the foundation of intellectual power, viz.: attention,

memory, association, and imagination, the difference between man and

animals is in degree, and not in kind. Thus stands the account,--with

the quadruped as well as the biped,--the impression is made on the mind;

attention fixes it there; memory recurs to it; imagination combines it,

rightly or erroneously, with many other impressions; judgment determines

the value of it, and the conclusions that are to be drawn from it, if

not with logical precision, yet with sufficient accuracy for every

practical purpose.

A bitch, naturally ill-tempered, and that would not suffer a stranger to

touch her, had scirrhous enlargement on one of her teats. As she lay in

the lap of her mistress, an attempt was repeatedly made to examine the

tumour, in spite of many desperate attempts on her part to bite. All at

once, however, something seemed to strike her mind. She whined, wagged

her tail, and sprung from the lap of her mistress to the ground. It was

to crouch at the feet of the surgeon, and to lay herself down and expose

the tumour to his inspection. She submitted to a somewhat painful

examination of it, and to a far more serious operation afterwards. Some

years passed away, and whenever she saw the operator, she testified her

joy and her gratitude in the most expressive and endearing manner.

A short time since, the following scene took place in a street adjoining

Hanover-square. It was an exhibition of a highly interesting character,

and worthy to be placed upon record. The editor of the Lancet having

heard that a French gentleman (M. Léonard), who had for some time been

engaged in instructing two dogs in various performances that required

the exercise, not merely of the natural instincts of the animal and the

power of imitation, but of a higher intellect, and a degree of

reflection and judgment far greater than is commonly developed in the

dog; was residing in London, obtained an introduction, and was

obligingly favoured by M. Leonard with permission to hold a

'conversazione' with his extraordinary pupils. He thus describes the

interview:

Two fine dogs, of the Spanish breed, were introduced by M. Leonard, with

the customary French politesse, the largest by the name of M. Philax,

the other as M. Brac (or spot); the former had been in training three,

the latter two, years. They were in vigorous health, and, having bowed

very gracefully, seated themselves on the hearth-rug side by side. M.

Léonard then gave a lively description of the means he had employed to

develop the cerebral system in these animals--how, from having been fond

of the chase, and ambitious of possessing the best-trained dogs, he had

employed the usual course of training--how the conviction had been

impressed on his mind, that by gentle usage, and steady perseverance in

inducing the animal to repeat again and again what was required, not

only would the dog be capable of performing that specific act, but that

part of the brain which was brought into activity by the mental effort

would become more largely developed, and hence a permanent increase of

mental power be obtained.

This reasoning is in accordance with the known laws of the physiology of

the nervous system, and is fraught with the most important results. We

may refer the reader interested in the subject to the masterly little

work of Dr. Verity, "Changes produced in the Nervous System by

Civilization."

After this introduction, M. Léonard spoke to his dogs in French, in his

usual tone, and ordered one of them to walk, the other to lie down, to

run, to gallop, halt, crouch, &c., which they performed as promptly and

correctly as the most docile children. Then he directed them to go

through the usual exercises of the 'manége', which they performed as

well as the best-trained ponies at Astley's.

He next placed six cards of different colours on the floor, and, sitting

with his back to the dogs, directed one to pick up the blue card, and

the other the white, &c., varying his orders rapidly, and speaking in

such a manner that it was impossible the dogs could have executed his

commands if they had not had a perfect knowledge of the words. For

instance, M. Léonard said, "Philax, take the red card and give it to

Brac; and, Brac, take the white card and give it to Philax;" the dags

instantly did this, and exchanged cards with each other. He then said,

"Philax, put your card on the green, and Brac, put yours on the blue;"

and this was instantly performed. Pieces of bread and meat were placed

on the floor, with figured cards, and a variety of directions were given

to the dogs, so as to put their intelligence and obedience to a severe

test. They brought the meat, bread, or cards, as commanded, but did not

attempt to eat or to touch unless ordered. Philax was then ordered to

bring a piece of meat and give it to Brac, and then Brac was told to

give it back to Philax, who was to return it to its place. Philax was

next told he might bring a piece of bread and eat it; but, before he had

time to swallow it, his master forbade him, and directed him to show

that he had not disobeyed, and the dog instantly protruded the crust

between his lips.

While many of these feats were being performed, M. Léonard snapped a

whip violently, to prove that the animals were so completely under

discipline, that they would not heed any interruption.

After many other performances, M. Léonard invited a gentleman to play a

game of dominos with one of them. The younger and slighter dog then

seated himself on a chair at the table, and the writer and M. Léonard

seated themselves opposite. Six dominos were placed on their edges in

the usual manner before the dog, and a like number before the writer.

The dog having a double number, took one up in his mouth, and put it in

the middle of the table; the writer placed a corresponding piece on one

side; the dog immediately played another correctly, and so on until all

the pieces were engaged. Other six dominos were then given to each, and

the writer intentionally placed a wrong number. The dog looked

surprised, stared very earnestly at the writer, growled, and finally

barked angrily. Finding that no notice was taken of his remonstrances,

he pushed away the wrong domino with his nose, and took up a suitable

one from his own pieces, and placed it in its stead. The writer then

played correctly; the dog followed, and won the game. Not the slightest

intimation could have been given by M. Léonard to the dog. This mode of

play must have been entirely the result of his own observation and

judgment. It should be added that the performances were strictly

private. The owner of the dogs was a gentleman of independent fortune,

and the instruction of his dogs had been taken up merely as a curious

and amusing investigation. [1]

Another strange attainment of the dog is the learning to speak. The

French Academicians mention one of these animals that could call in an

intelligible manner for tea, coffee, chocolate, &c. The account is given

by the celebrated Leibnitz, who communicated it to the Royal Academy of

France. This dog was of a middling size, and was the property of a

peasant in Saxony.

A little boy, a peasant's son, imagined that he perceived in the dog's

voice an indistinct resemblance to certain words, and therefore took it

into his head to teach him to speak. For this purpose he spared neither

time nor pains with his pupil, who was about three years old when his

learned education commenced, and in process of time he was able to

articulate no fewer than thirty distinct words. He was, however,

somewhat of a truant, and did not very willingly exert his talent, and

was rather pressed than otherwise into the service of literature. It was

necessary that the words should be pronounced to him each time, and then

he repeated them after his preceptor. Leibnitz attests that he heard the

animal talk in this way, and the French Academicians add, that unless

they had received the testimony of so celebrated a person they would

scarcely have dared to report the circumstance. It took place in Misnia,

in Saxony.

THE MORAL QUALITIES OF THE DOG.

We pass on to another division of our subject, 'the moral qualities of

the dog', strongly developed and beautifully displayed, and often

putting the biped to shame.

It is truly said of the dog that he possesses

"Many a good

And useful quality, and virtue too,

Attachment never to be weaned or changed

By any change of fortune; proof alike

Against unkindness, absence, and neglect;

Fidelity, that neither bribe nor threat

Can move or warp; and gratitude, for small

And trivial favours, lasting as the life,

And glistening even in the dying eye."

It may here be noticed that, among the inferior animals with large

nerves and more medullary substance, there are acuter senses; but man,

excelling them in the general bulk of his brain, and more particularly

in the cortical portion of it, has far superior powers of mind. These

are circumstances that deserve the deepest consideration. In their wild

state the brutes have no concern--no idea beyond their food and their

reproduction. In their domesticated state, they are doomed to be the

servants of man. Their power of mind is sufficient to qualify them for

this service: but were proportionate intellectual capacity added to

this--were they made conscious of their strength, and of the objects

that could be effected by it--they would burst their bonds, and man

would in his turn be the victim and the slave.

There is an important faculty, termed 'attention'. It is that which

distinguishes the promising pupil from him of whom no good hope could be

formed, and the scientific man from the superficial and ignorant one.

The power of keeping the mind steadily bent upon one purpose, is the

great secret of individual and moral improvement. We see the habit of

attention carried in the dog to a very considerable extent. The terrier

eagerly watching for vermin--the sporting dog standing staunch to his

point, however he may be annoyed by the blunders of his companion or the

unskilfulness of his master--the foxhound, insensible to a thousand

scents, and deaf to every other sound, while he anxiously and

perseveringly searches out the track of his prey--these are striking

illustrations of the power of attention.

Then, the impression having been received, and the mind having been

employed in its examination, it is treasured up in the storehouse of the

mind for future use.

This is the faculty of memory; and a most important one it is. Of the

'memory' of the 'dog', and the recollection of kindness received, there

are a thousand stories, from the return of Ulysses to the present day,

and we have seen enough of that faithful animal to believe most of them.

An officer was abroad with his regiment, during the American war. He had

a fine Newfoundland dog, his constant companion, whom he left with his

family. After the lapse of several years he returned. His dog met him at

the door, leaped upon his neck, licked his face, and died.

Of the accuracy and retentiveness of memory in the dog, as respects the

instruction he has received from his master, we have abundant proof in

the pointer and the hound, and it may perhaps be with some of them, as

with men, that the lesson must sometimes be repeated, and even impressed

on the memory in a way not altogether pleasant.

[We know an imported Irish setter, formerly in possession of a gentleman

of this city, who on many occasions, while hunting, displayed an

extraordinary instinct, even sufficiently remarkable to make us believe

that he possessed not only the most acute powers of observation, but

that he also enjoyed the faculty of "inductive reasoning," independent

of any mechanical training, many of his performances being entirely

voluntary, and the result of causes dependent upon accidental

circumstances alone: for instance, when lost from observation, he would

noiselessly withdraw from his point, hunt up his master, and induce him,

by peculiar signs, to follow him to the spot where he had previously

observed the birds.

In his old days, "Smoke" was much opposed to hunting with an indifferent

shot, and would leave the field perfectly disgusted, after a succession

of bad shooting; seeming to argue that he no longer sought after game

for amusement, but that he expected his efforts to be repaid by the

death of the birds.

This dog was of a morose and dignified disposition, surly with

strangers, and inclined to quarrel with any one who carried a stick or

whip in their hands; never forgetting an injury, and growling whenever

any person who had offended him made their appearance. He was also

particularly irritable and tenacious of his rights when hunting,

shunning all puppies or heedless dogs, and exhibiting a very irascible

disposition if superseded in a point by another dog; and on one occasion

attacked a young pointer in the field, who, in opposition to all his

growling and show of irony, would persist in crawling before him, when

on a point.--L]

DOG-CARTS.

These were, and still are, in the country, connected with many an act of

atrocious cruelty. We do not object to the dog as a beast of draught. He

is so in the northern regions, and he is as happy as any other animal in

those cold and inhospitable countries. He is so in Holland, and he is as

comfortable there as any other beast that wears the collar. He is not so

in Newfoundland: there he is shamefully treated. It is to the abuse of

the thing, the poor and half-starved condition of the animal, the

scandalous weight that he is made to draw, and the infamous usage to

which he is exposed, that we object. We would put him precisely on the

same footing with the horse, and then we should be able, perhaps, to

afford him, not all the protection we could wish, but nearly as much as

we have obtained for the horse. We would have every cart licensed, not

for the sake of adding to the revenue, but of getting at the owner; and

therefore the taxing need not be any great sum. We would have the cart

licensed for the carrying of goods only; or a separate license taken out

if it carried or drew a human being.

It is here that the cruelty principally exists. Before the dog-carts

were put down in the metropolis, we then saw a man and a woman in one of

these carts, drawn by a single dog, and going at full trot. Every

passenger execrated them, and the trot was increased to a gallop, in

order more speedily to escape the just reproaches that proceeded from

every mouth. We would have the name and address of the owner, and the

number of the cart, painted on some conspicuous part of the vehicle, and

in letters and figures as large as on the common carts. Every passenger

who witnessed any flagrant act of cruelty would then be enabled to take

the number of the cart, and summon the owner; and the police should have

the same power of interference which they have with regard to other

vehicles.

After a plan like this had been working a little while, the nuisance

would be materially abated; and, indeed, the consciousness of the ease

with which the offender might be summoned, would go far to get rid of it.

CROPPING.

This is an infliction of too much torture for the gratification of a

nonsensical fancy; and, after all, in the opinion of many, and of those,

too, who are fondest of dogs, the animal looks far better in his natural

state than when we have exercised all our cruel art upon him. Besides,

the effects of this absurd amputation do not cease with the healing of

the ear. The intense inflammation that we have set up, materially

injures the internal structure of this organ. Deafness is occasionally

produced by it in some dogs, and constantly in others. The frequent

deafness of the pug is solely attributable to the outrageous as well as

absurd rounding of his ears. The almost invariable deafness of the white

wire-haired terrier is to be traced to this cause.

[Among the many tastes and fancies that the Americans have inherited

from their ancestors, the English, may be enumerated the absurd practice

of fashioning the ears of different breeds of dogs to a certain standard

of beauty. Mr. Blain very justly remarks that it must be a false taste

which has taught us to prefer a curtailed organ to a perfect one,

without gaining any convenience by the operation. The dogs upon which

this species of barbecuing are more particularly practised in this

country, are the bull-dogs and terriers.

We imagine that many of our readers will be surprised when they learn

that this operation, although so simple in itself, and performed by

every reckless stable-boy, is attended with great suffering to the

puppy, and not unfrequently with total deafness. Severe inflammation,

extending to the interior of the ear, often follows this operation, more

especially when awkwardly performed, as is frequently the case, by the

aid of the miserable instruments within the reach of our hostlers; to

say nothing of the savage fashion of using the teeth for this purpose,

as is often done by ignorant fellows, who even take credit to themselves

for the clever style in which they perform this outlandish operation.

Mr. Blain states, that it is a barbarous custom to twist the ears off,

by swinging the dog around; and we are satisfied that every sensible

person will respond to this humane sentiment. We have never had the

misfortune to see this latter method put into practice, and trust that

such an operation is unknown among us, although, from the manner in

which this gentleman condemns it, we are led to suppose that this mode

is not uncommon in the old country.

As custom has sanctioned the cropping of dogs, in spite of all that can

be said upon the subject, it should be done in such a manner as to cause

the least possible pain to the animal. The fourth or fifth week is the

proper age for this operation; if done sooner, the flap is apt to sprout

and become deformed: if later, the cartilage has grown more thick and

sensitive. The imaginary beauty of a terrier crop consists in the foxy

appearance of the ears, which is easily produced by the clean cut of a

sharp, strong pair of scissors. The first cut should commence at the

posterior base of the ear, near to the head, and be carried to the

extremity of the flap, taking off about the eighth of an inch or more in

width. The second cut should extend from the base of the ear in front,

somewhat obliquely, to intersect the other cut within a few lines of the

point of the flap. These two cuts will shape the ear in such a style as

to please the most fastidious eye, and will require no further trimming.

The pieces taken from the first ear will answer as guides in cutting the

other. The mother should not be allowed to lick the ears of the puppies,

as is generally done, under the supposition that she assists in the

healing process, when, in fact, she irritates them, and occasions

increased inflammation. If the wounds are tardy at healing, or become

mangy, they may be bathed gently with a weak solution of alum.

We regret to find that Mr. Skinner, so well known to the sporting world

as the able extoller and defender of the rights of our canine friends,

should recommend the cropping of terriers. We are convinced that he

would change his feelings upon this subject, if he placed any confidence

in the opinions of Blain, Youatt, Scott, or Daniel, all of whom condemn

the practice as barbarous, and as often occasioning great suffering, and

even total deafness, throughout the progeny of successive generations,

as witnessed in the white wire-haired terrier and pug above mentioned.

Wo have had the good fortune to persuade some of our friends to desist

from thus mutilating their terrier pups, all of whom, consequently, grew

up with beautiful full ears and long tails, which were much admired; and

to the eyes of many, the dogs seemed more sprightly and knowing with

their long flaps, than when deprived of those natural appendages.--L.]

TAILING.

Then 'the tail' of the dog does not suit the fancy of the owner. It must

be shortened in some of these animals, and taken off altogether in

others. If the sharp, strong scissors, with a ligature, were used, the

operation, although still indefensible, would not be a very cruel one,

for the tail may be removed almost in a moment, and the wound soon

heals; but for the beastly gnawing off of the part, and the drawing out

of the tendons and nerves--these are the acts of a cannibal; and he who

orders or perpetrates a barbarity so nearly approaching to cannibalism,

deserves to be scouted from all society.

[As a matter of necessity, we cannot sanction the too frequent and cruel

practice of cutting or otherwise barbecuing different portions of the

bodies of our domestic animals, and more particularly the often absurd

fancy or cropping and sterning dogs. Nevertheless, we must admit the

propriety of, and, in fact, recommend, the taking off a small portion of

the pointer's tail, not to increase his beauty, but to save him some

after suffering. A long tail is frequently lacerated in close thickets,

and thus rendered sore and mangy: this is prevented by the operation, as

it becomes better protected by the body, as also more thickly covered by

the feather which generally forms over it.

When the pups are a month or six weeks old, this operation can be

performed with little pain to the animal, by means of sharp scissors or

a knife; but never allow any one to bite the tail off, as is often done

by some dirty and unfeeling stable-men. Although a long tail is

inconvenient, a too short one is more unsightly; care should therefore

be taken not to remove too much. The quantity should be regulated by the

size of the breed: for a medium breed, an inch is sufficient to be cut

off at this age. Some sportsmen in England, Mr. Blain also informs us,

draw out the lower tendons of the tail, which present themselves after

amputation, with a pair of forceps, with a view of causing the tail to

be carried higher, which adds to the style and appearance of the dog,

when in the field. This practice, we agree with Mr. Youatt, is

cannibal-like, and very painful; and, to say the least of it, of very

doubtful propriety, as it is but seldom we find a good breed of dog

carrying, while hunting, a slovenly tail.

If there should be any appearance of hemorrhage after this operation, a

small piece of tape or twine may be tied around the tail, which will

immediately arrest the bleeding. This ligature should not remain on

longer than a few hours, as the parts included in it will be apt to

slough and make a mangy ulcer, difficult to heal.--L.]

DEW-CLAWS

Next comes the depriving the dog of his 'dew-claws'--the supplementary

toes a little above the foot. They are supposed to interfere with

hunting by becoming entangled with the grass or underwood. This rarely

happens. The truth of the matter is, they are simply illustrations of

the uniformity of structure which prevails in all animals, so far as is

consistent with their destiny. The 'dew-claws' only make up the number

of toes in other animals. If they are attached, as they are in some

dogs, simply by a portion of skin, they may be removed without any very

great pain, yet the man of good feeling would not meddle with them. He

would not unnecessarily inflict any pain that he can avoid; and here, in

several of the breeds, the toe is united by an actual joint; and if they

are dissected because they are a little in the way, it is a barbarous

operation, and nothing can justify it.

[Notwithstanding our author's condemnation of this practice, there are

many sportsmen who think it very necessary to remove this supernumerary

toe, fearing that it may interfere with the dog while hunting, as above

stated.

Mr. Blain, both a practical sportsman and scientific gentleman, to whose

opinions we must at all times show a due regard, considers the removal

of these false appendages very necessary, stating that they often become

troublesome, not only in the field, but that they frequently turn in and

wound the flesh with their nails.

We have never seen any particular inconvenience arising from the

presence of these dew-claws, and are not in the habit of taking them

off; but, as the operation is a trifling one, and attended with little

or no pain, we are disposed to recommend its general adoption, as it

improves the appearance of the legs; and their presence may sometimes

prove inconvenient to the animal, as stated by Mr. Blain. These claws

most commonly have a ligamentous attachment only to the leg, which may

be divided, a few days after birth, by a pair of sharp scissors or a

knife; and if a bony union exists, it is generally of such a trifling

nature that it can be severed in the same way.--L.]

The cruelties that are perpetrated on puppies during the course of their

education or 'breaking-in', are sometimes infamous. Young dogs, like

young people, must be to a certain degree coerced; but these animals

receive from nature so great an aptitude for learning, and practising

that which we require of them, and their own pleasure is so much

connected with what they learn, that there is no occasion for one-tenth

part of the correction that is occasionally inflicted; and the frequent

consequence of the cruelty to which they are subjected, is cowardice or

ferocity during life.

Not many years ago, as the author was going over one of the commons in

the neighbourhood of the metropolis, now enclosed, he heard the loud

sounds of the lash and the screams of a dog. He hurried on, and found

two men, one holding a greyhound while another was unmercifully flogging

him. He had inflicted many lashes, and was continuing the correction.

The author indignantly interfered, and the dog was liberated, but with a

great deal of abuse from the men; and a gentleman galloping up, and who

was the owner of the dog, and a Middlesex magistrate to boot, seemed

disposed to support his people in no very measured terms On being

addressed, however, by name, and recognising the speaker, and his

attention being directed to the 'whaled' and even bloody state of

the dog, he offered the best excuse that he could.

We met again some months afterwards. "That hiding," said he, "that

offended you so much did Carlo good, for he has not been touched since."

"No," was the reply; "you were a little ashamed of your fellows, and

have altered your system, and find that your dogs do not want this

unmerciful negro-whipping."

Stories are told of the 'kennel-hare'--a hare kept on purpose, and which

is sometimes shown to the fox or stag-hounds. The moment that any of

them open, they are tied up to the whipping-post, and flogged, while the

keepers at every stroke call out "Ware hare!" A sheep has also been

shown to them, or still is, after which another unmerciful flogging is

administered, amidst cries of "Ware sheep!" If this is not sufficient,

some of the wool is dipped in train oil, and put into the dog's mouth,

which is sewed up for many hours in order to cure him of sheep-biting.

There was an almost similar punishment for killing poultry; and there

was the 'puzzle' and the 'check-collar', cruelly employed, for killing

other dogs.

There is a great deal of truth, and there may occasionally be some

exaggeration, in these accounts; but the sportsman who is indebted for

the pleasures of the field to the intelligence and exertions of his

horses and his dogs, is bound, by every principle that can influence an

honourable mind, to defend them from all wanton and useless cruelty.

There is a dog, and a faithful and valuable one, that powerfully demands

the assistance of the humane--the yard or watch-dog. He is not only for

the most part deprived of his liberty, but too often neglected and made

unnecessarily to suffer. How seldom do we see him in the enjoyment of a

good bed of straw, or, rather, how frequently is everything about his

kennel in a most filthy and disgusting state! The following hint not

only relates to him, but to every dog that is tied up out of doors.

"Their cribs or their kennels, as they are called, should be constructed

so as to turn, in order to prevent their inmates from being exposed to

the cutting blasts of winter. Where they have no other refuge, all

animals seek shelter from the weather by turning their backs to the

wind; but, as the dog thus confined cannot do so, his kennel should be

capable of turning, or at least should be placed so as not to face the

weather more than is necessary. The premises would be in quite as great

security, for the dog depends as much upon his ear and sense of smell as

upon his eye, and would equally detect a stranger's presence if he were

deprived of sight."

In the Zoological Gardens, an old blind dog used to be placed at the

door of the dissecting-house. Few had any business there, and every one

of them he, after a while, used to recognise and welcome full ton yards

off, by wagging his tail; at the same distance, he would begin to growl

at a stranger unless accompanied by a friend. From the author's long

habit of noticing him, he used to recognise his step before it would

seem possible for its sound to be heard. He followed him with his

sightless eyes in whatever direction he moved, and was not satisfied

until he had patted and fondled him.

DOG-PITS.

Of the demoniacal use of the dog in the 'fighting-pits', and the

atrocities that were committed there, I will not now speak. These places

were frequented by few others than the lowest of the low. Cruelties were

there inflicted that seemed to be a libel on human nature; and such was

the baneful influence of the scene, that it appeared to be scarcely

possible for any one to enter these pits without experiencing a greater

or less degree of moral degradation.

The public dog-pits have now been put down; but the system of

dog-fighting, with most of its attendant atrocities, still continues.

There are many more low public-houses than there used to be pits, that

have roomy places behind, and out of sight, where there are regular

meetings for this purpose. Those among the neighbours who cannot fail of

being annoyed and disgusted by the frequent uproar, might give a clue to

these dens of infamy; and the depriving of a few of the landlords of

their license would go a great way towards the effectual suppression of

the practice.

Would it be thought possible that certain of our young aristocracy keep

fighting-dogs at the repositories of various dealers in the outskirts of

the metropolis; and that these animals remain there, as it were, at

livery, the owners coming at their pleasure, and making and devising

what matches they think proper?

However disgraceful it may be, it is actually the fact. Here is a field

for "the suppression of cruelty!"

DOG-STEALING.

The practice of stealing dogs is both directly and indirectly connected

with a great deal of cruelty. There are more than twenty miscreants who

are well known to subsist by picking up dogs in the street. There are

generally two of them together with aprons rolled round their waists.

The dog is caught up at the corner of one of the streets, concealed in a

moment in the apron, and the thieves are far away before the owner

suspects the loss. These dogs, that have been used to every kind of

luxury, are crowded into dark and filthy cellars, where they become

infected by various diseases. The young ones have distemper, and the old

ones mange, and all become filled with vermin. There they remain until a

sufficient reward is offered for their recovery, or they are sent far

into the country, or shipped for France or some other foreign market.

Little or nothing is done by punishing the inferior rogues in this

traffic. The blow must be struck at those of a superior class. I will

not assert that every dog-dealer is in league with, and profits by, the

lower thieves; but it is true of a great many of them, and it is the

principal and most lucrative part of their trade. They are likewise

intimately connected with the dog-fights, and encourage them, for the

sake of their trade as dealers. An attempt should be made to bring the

matter home to these scoundrels. [2]

[Dog-stealing, we are more particularly informed by Col. Hawker, is

reduced to a perfect system in London, and carried on by a set of

fellows who, by their cunning and peculiar knack, are enabled to avoid

all detection in their nefarious traffic, and thus, by extortion of

rewards or sales of stolen dogs, reap a rich harvest for the whole

fraternity from the well-stored pockets of the numerous dog-fanciers of

the English capital.

The villains engaged in this business are known among themselves under

the too often abused sobriquet of "the Fancy," and assuming the garb of

different mechanics, prowl about the streets, oftentimes with the proper

tools in their hands, carelessly watching the movements of every dog

that passes by, ready to grab him up the first fitting opportunity. The

dog is then concealed till a suitable reward is offered for him, when,

through the intervention of a third person, a trusty agent of the

society, he is delivered over to his rightful owner, the actual rogue

never appearing in the whole transaction.

If no reward, or an insufficient one, is offered for the recovery of the

dog, he is either sent off to the country, or, perhaps, cautiously

exposed for sale in some distant quarter of the city, or perhaps killed

for his skin alone.

These gentry, however, prefer returning dogs to their owners for a

moderate compensation, as they thus know at what rate the animal is

valued, and cherish the hope of soon being able to steal him again, and

thus obtaining another reward.

There have been instances of a lady paying, in successive rewards, a sum

not less than fifteen guineas for a miserable little lap-dog not worth

as many shillings.

If anything is said about the law, or threats of prosecution held out in

the notice offering a reward for a "lost or stolen dog," the death of

the kidnapped animal is inevitable, as the "Fancy" prefer sacrificing an

occasional prize rather than run the risk of detection by some

enthusiastic or stubborn dog owner. These fellows, as well as thieves

generally, are said to have a method of quieting the fiercest watch-dogs

by throwing them a narcotic ball, which they call "puddening the

animal."

The following account, extracted from Hawker's work, will give the

American reader a 'perfect' insight into the maneuvering of these

sharpers.

"In the month of May, 1830, Mr. Lang lost a favourite setter. He

posted handbills offering two guineas reward; on hearing of which a

man came and told him the reward was not enough, but that if he would

make it four guineas he could find his dog, and the amount must be

deposited in the hands of a landlord who would procure him a

ticket-card. He should then be met to his appointment in some private

field, where he would receive his dog on condition that no questions

should be asked. Mr. Lang sent his shopman, about half-past ten at

night, to White Conduit Fields to meet the parties, who, on receiving

the ticket, delivered up the dog. But there was great hesitation in

transacting this affair, in consequence of the dog having on a lock to

a steel chain collar with Mr. Lang's name, and which, therefore,

induced them to proceed with extreme caution, through fear, as they

supposed, of detection for felony. The whole amount paid for

recovering this setter was £4 17s., £2 10s. of which went to the men

who had him. The rest was divided among others of the "Fancy". The

same person who gave Mr. Lang the information, said that if ever he

lost a dog, and applied to him, he could undertake to get him back

again within thirty-six hours, provided he would make it worth his

while to do so; because all dogs taken by the "Fancy" are brought to

their office and regularly booked by the secretary."

('Hawker on Shooting', p. 592.)--L.]

[Footnote 1: Plutarch relates that, at the theatre of Marcellus, a dog

was exhibited before the emperor Vespasian, so well instructed as to

exercise in every kind of dance. He afterwards feigned illness in a most

singular manner, so as to strike the spectators with astonishment. He

first exhibited various symptoms of pain; he then fell down as if dead,

and, afterwards seeming to revive, as if waking from a profound sleep,

and then sported about and showed various demonstrations of joy.]

[Footnote 2: Mr. Bishop, of Bond-street, has assured the public, that he

is able to prove that money has recently been extorted from the owners

of dogs by dog-stealers and their confederates, to the amount of more

than a thousand pounds. Surely this calls for the decided interposition

of the legislature. A strange case of atrocity and cruelty was related

by a gentleman to Mr. Bishop.

"A young dog of mine," says he, "was lost in London, and, being aware

that if a noise was made about it, a great price would be asked for

it, I gave out that I wanted to purchase one: I was shown my own dog.

I seized it; but there were several scoundrels present who professed

to belong to it, and threatened to kill the dog if I did not pay for

it. I proceeded to describe it as my own, stating that it had 'bad

back or double teeth'. Judge of my surprise when, after great

difficulty, and the dog crying greatly, its mouth was opened, and all

the back teeth had been taken out! I paid two pounds for it before

they would let me take it away; but, in consequence of the injuries it

had received, it died a few days afterward."]

* * * * *

INTRODUCTION TO CANINE PATHOLOGY.

BY THE EDITOR.

PREDISPOSITION TO, AND CAUSES OF, DISEASES IN DOGS.--THE

CLAIMS OF DOGS UPON US.

"Unnumbered accidents and various ills

Attend thy pack, hang hovering o'er their heads,

And point the way that leads to death's dark cave.

Short is their span, few at the date arrive

Of ancient Argus, in old Homer's song

So highly honour'd."

The dog from early youth, in fact oftentimes at the very period of

birth, is exposed to many dangerous and troublesome affections, the

result of causes not less complex and multifarious than those that exert

an influence over the human organization. Many diseases are the

consequence of their domesticity and the hereditary defects of their

progenitors, others are dependent upon accidental circumstances, bad

treatment, and improper nourishment. Not a few, however, of their most

mortal maladies are the production of contagion, infection, and other

like causes, all exercising a general tendency to disease difficult to

define and impossible to avoid.

Although every species of dog is more or less subject to certain

diseases peculiar to their race, those breeds of most value and more

particularly subservient to the will of man are liable to a greater

number of ills and casualties than other dogs, for the reason that they

are more frequently exposed to unnatural fatigue, extremes of heat and

cold, as also to the various dangers dependent upon the chase of wild

animals. Those diseases resulting from specific causes, either natural

to the race or artificially produced by the animal itself in a state of

morbid derangement, are most frequent and fatal, as witnessed in

distemper, rabies, mange, &c. The intimate connexion existing between

the diseases of our canine friends and those of the human race, as also

the strong similarity in the action of many drugs over the two systems,

render the study of one branch almost synonymous with that of the other.

A little attention, therefore, on the part of the physician will render

him quite familiar with and competent to relieve the many sufferings of

these our most faithful and grateful of companions, and at the same time

create an interest in a study that cannot fail to be productive of

pleasure as well as information.

This subject, though claiming the attention of many skilful and

intelligent persons in England and other countries, has scarce been

thought of among us, and the mere mention of an infirmary or hospital

for the accommodation of invalid dogs, would involuntarily create a

smile of incredulity or contempt upon the face of most of our

countrymen. Notwithstanding this display of ignorance and positive want

of humane feeling for animal suffering, or a just appreciation of canine

worth, we must beg leave to inform these unbelievers that such

institutions are quite numerous in many large cities of the old world;

and they must also learn that these institutions are conducted by

gentlemen of science upon a system not less regular and useful in this

particular branch, than similar establishments appropriated for the

relief of suffering humanity.

To these hospitals hundreds of valuable sick dogs are annually sent,

where they receive every attention, and are often snatched from the very

jaws of death, or prevented, when attacked by rabies or other frightful

affections, from doing mischief or propagating infection. Medicines the

most potent are administered to these interesting patients with the

utmost care, either as assuagers of temporary pain, or as remedial

agents in the cure of disease. Operations the most complex are performed

with the greatest skill, and every attention is bestowed upon these

invalids in their different wards, and no trouble is considered too

great to save the life and secure the services of a valuable and

faithful dog.

As we have no such establishments in this country, and but a few persons

upon whom we can rely for assistance in case of need, it behooves every

lover of the dog to make himself familiar with, and the mode of treating

the most prominent affections of these companions of our sports, and at

the same time acquire a knowledge of the operations of certain medicines

upon the system in a state of health or disease, so that our trusty

followers may not be left to the tender mercies and physicking

propensities of ignorant stablemen, or the officious intermeddling of

the "pill-directing horse doctor."

The necessity of resorting to the assistance of either one or the other

of these worthies is equally unfortunate, as the former will most

generally kill the patient by slow degrees in forcibly and largely

administering the two modern specifics for all canine affections, viz.:

"soap pills and flowers of sulphur." While the latter, more bold but not

less ignorant than the former, and his practice is perhaps the

preferable of the two evils, will murder the dog out-right by the free

exhibition of calomel, nux vomica and other deleterious substances, of

the operation of which he has but little knowledge or conception. This

latter system, as before said, is the most preferable, as its adoption

secures for our favourite a speedy termination of his sufferings, and

also relieves our own minds from a state of suspense that illustrates

too forcibly the remark, "Hope deferred maketh the heart sick."

REMEDIAL MEANS FOR THE CURE OF DISEASES.

There are but few remedies useful for the cure of diseases in the human

race that might not he employed by a skilful practitioner in overcoming

the same or different ailments in the dog. There are, however, several

drugs that cannot be used in the same proportions for the one as for the

other, without danger of producing fatal consequences, as instanced in

calomel, a medicine so often abused by those who pretend to a knowledge

of its administration in the maladies of dogs.

This article, though given with impunity to mankind in doses varying

from five grains to twenty grains, as also oftentimes administered to

horses in quantities three or four times as great, without any

appreciable effect, will not unfrequently, in minute doses of three

grains to four grains, produce the most violent symptoms in the

strongest dogs. We have seen severe vomiting and purging occasioned by

these small doses, and we once salivated a large mastiff by the

administration of two blue pills. It is thus that both the regular

physician, and even the veterinary surgeon, unacquainted with this

remarkable peculiarity, will make fatal mistakes; and how much oftener

must such blunders take place when we intrust our canine friends to the

care of stable-boys, or a "routine horse-doctor!"

Nux vomica, another medicine much used, and most important in the

treatment of all nervous affections, is particularly noxious to dogs

even in small quantities; a dose sufficient for a human subject under

some circumstances, would almost inevitably destroy the animal under the

same or analogous conditions.

A drachm of the powdered nux vomica is sufficient to destroy the largest

and most powerful dog, while a few grains will sometimes produce death

in a few minutes if administered to smaller animals.

We prescribed forty grains in a roll of butter for a worthless cur a

short time since, which, as expected, produced great anxiety, difficulty

of respiration, severe vomiting, tremors, spasmodic twitchings of the

muscles, convulsions, and ultimate death in the course of half an hour.

This powerful drug acts by causing a spasmodic stricture of the muscles

engaged in respiration, as no signs of inflammation are observable in

the stomach and other organs after death.

Spirits of turpentine, another remedy both simple and innocent in its

operations upon the human economy, and so frequently prescribed for the

expulsion of worms from the bowels, is a dangerous medicine for a dog,

and will often in very small quantities prove fatal.

Aloes, a medicine more extensively used in canine pathology than any

other in the materia medica, is also very peculiar in its operations

upon these animals, they being able to bear immense doses of it, in fact

quite sufficient to produce death if given to a hearty man.

Thus we might continue to enumerate other drugs which we have

ascertained, from practical observation as well as the experiments of

other, to exercise a peculiar action on the vital functions of the whole

canine race, quite at variance with that common to both man and the

other domestic animals.

In combating with the diseases of animals, the veterinary surgeon has

more to contend with than the regular physician, and, in fact, should

possess a knowledge and habit of observation even superior to the

former; although the responsibility of his calling, in a moral sense, is

much inferior to that of the other, as the importance of animal

existence, under no circumstances, can be placed in comparison with that

of human life: still acuteness of observation alone can direct him to

the main cause of suffering in the brute creation, as the animal, though

groaning under the most severe pains, cannot by any word of explanation

point out to us the seat, the probable cause, or peculiar

characteristics of such pain. We see that our dog is ill, he refuses his

food, retires gloomily to his house, looks sullen, breathes heavy, is no

longer delighted at our call. We cannot question him as to his feelings,

or ask him to point out the particular region of his sufferings; we

watch his motions, study his actions, and rely for our diagnosis upon

general symptoms deduced from close observation.

Besides these external ocular evidences of morbid action, we have, as in

the human subject, guides to direct us in forming a just opinion as to

the nature of a dog's indisposition.

The state of the circulation is the first thing that should command our

particular attention.

The pulse of dogs in health varies from one hundred to one hundred and

twenty strokes per minute, according to the size and peculiar

temperament of the animal, being more frequent in the small breeds.

The standard of the setter, pointer, hound, &c., may be stated at one

hundred and five.

The action of the heart may be felt by placing the hand immediately over

that organ, or applying the fingers to several points in the body and

limbs where the large arteries are somewhat superficial, as on the

inside of the fore-knee and the thigh of the hind-leg.

If the pulse in a state of rest exceeds the average standard in

frequency, regularity, and softness, and a general feeling of uneasiness

be present, together with reddened eyes, warm nose, and coated tongue,

we know at once that there is an unnatural derangement of the vital

functions, and that fever in some form is present. The next question to

determine is, upon what does this fever depend? whether it be

idiopathic, arising from morbific causes difficult to define, or whether

it be sympathetic, with some organic affection yet to be discovered.

The appearance of the tongue in canine diseases will often materially

assist us in forming a correct diagnosis; this organ in simple fever

loses its rose-colour and becomes pale and coated, the gums and fæces

also participate in this change.

If, however, the tongue be much furred, with a bright inflammatory

appearance around the edges, with high arterial excitement, and disgust

of food, with general anxiety and craving for water in small but

frequent quantities, inflammation of the stomach or bowels may be

suspected. If, on the other hand, the tongue remains brown and streaked,

with less action of the pulse, variable appetite and diminution of pain,

derangement of the liver may be apprehended.

If, in connection with some or all of the above symptoms, the breathing

be laboured and painful, with a disposition to remain in the erect or

sitting position, with great anxiety and general distress, we must look

to the pulmonic viscera as the seat of the disease.

Thus, by examining each and every individual symptom of disease, the

intelligent sportsman will soon be able to arrive at the proximate cause

of all this unnatural state of things, and then he will be competent to

administer such remedies as may seem most likely to afford relief.

Without these precautions, however, he would often be groping in the

dark, and, consequently, not unfrequently, apply those remedies more

calculated to aggravate than cure the malady.

* * * * *

The Dog · 第 6 / 18 章