Almost every dog which is cross-bred is ranked as a cur dog or
mongrel, but that which is specially described by Youatt, is the
shepherd's dog crossed with the terrier, and is nearly smooth; but he
is considerably longer in the legs in proportion to the size of his
body, is stronger in the make, has half-pricked ears, is generally
black and white, although sometimes all black, and has rather a short
tail. In the north of England and southern counties of Scotland great
attention is paid to the breeding of this dog, and to breaking him in
for driving and tending cattle, which he does with great intelligence;
indeed his sagacity in everything is uncommonly great, and he is very
trusty. These dogs bite very keenly, and always make their attack at
the heels of cattle, who, on this account, having no defence against
them, are quickly compelled to run.
The cur has long and somewhat deservedly obtained a very bad name as a
bully and a coward; and certainly his habit of barking at everything
that passes, and flying at the heels of the horse, renders him often a
very dangerous nuisance. He is, however, valuable to the cottager; he
is a faithful defender of his humble dwelling; no bribe can seduce him
from his duty; and he is a useful and an effectual guard over the
clothes and scanty provisions of the labourer, who may be working in
some distant part of the field. All day long he will lie upon his
master's clothes seemingly asleep, but giving immediate warning of the
approach of a supposed marauder. He has a propensity, when at home, to
fly at every horse and every strange dog; and of young game of every
kind there is not a more ruthless destroyer than the village cur.
The following story is strictly authentic:--"Not long ago a young man,
an acquaintance of Lord Fife's coachman, was walking, as he had often
done, in his lordship's stables at Banff. Taking an opportunity when
the servants were not regarding him, he put a bridle into his pocket.
A Highland cur that was generally about the stables observed the
theft, and immediately began to bark at him; and when he got to the
stable door would not let him pass, but held him fiercely by the leg
to prevent him. As the servants had never seen the dog act thus
before, and the same young man had been often with them, they could
not imagine what could be the reason of the dog's conduct. However,
when they perceived the end of a valuable bridle peeping out of the
young man's pocket they were able to account for it, and on his giving
it up the dog let go his hold and allowed him to pass."
"I recollect," says Mr. Hall, "when I passed some time at the Viscount
Arbuthnot's at Hatton, in the parish of Marykirk, one of his
lordship's estates, that when the field-servants went out one morning
they found a man whom they knew, and who lived a few miles' distance,
lying on the road a short way from the stable with a number of
bridles, girths, &c. &c. near him, and the house-dog, which was of the
Highland breed, lying also at his ease, holding the seat of the man's
breeches in his mouth. The man confessed his crime, and told them that
the log had struggled with him, and held him in that position for
five hours; but that immediately after the servants came up he let go
his hold."
The following anecdote is well known. In London, a few years since, a
box, properly directed, was sent to a merchant's shop to lie there all
night, and be shipped off with other goods next morning. A dog, which
accidentally came into the shop with a customer, by smelling the box,
and repeatedly barking in a peculiar way, led to the discovery that it
did not contain goods, but a fellow who intended to admit his
companions and plunder the shop in the night-time.
John Lang, Esq., deputy-sheriff of Selkirk, had a female cur big with
pups, which on one occasion, when out in the fields attending the
cattle, was taken in travail, and pupped on the moor. She concealed
her litter in a whin-bush, brought the cattle home at the usual time
with the utmost care, and, having delivered her charge, returned to
the moor and brought home the puppies one by one. Mr. Lang, with that
humanity which marks his character, preserved the whole litter, that
he might not give the least cause of pain to so faithful and so
affectionate an animal.
In Lambeth Church there is a painting of a man with a dog on one of
the windows. In reference to this, we learn by tradition that a piece
of ground near Westminster Bridge, containing one acre and nineteen
roods (named Pedlar's Acre), was left to this parish by a pedlar, upon
condition that his picture, and that of the dog, should be
perpetually preserved on painted glass on one of the windows of the
church, which the parishioners have carefully performed. The time of
this gift was in 1504, when the ground was let at 2_s._ 8_d._ per
annum; but in the year 1762 it was let on lease at 100_l._ per year,
and a fine of 800_l._; and is now worth more than 250_l._ yearly. The
reason alleged for the pedlar's request is, that being very poor, and
passing the aforementioned piece of ground, he could by no means get
his dog away, which kept scratching a particular spot of earth, until
he attracted his master's notice; who going back to examine the cause,
and pressing with his stick, found something hard, which, on a nearer
inspection, proved to be a pot of gold. With part of this money he
purchased the land, and settled in the parish; to which he bequeathed
it on the conditions aforesaid.
"It was with pleasure," observes Mr. Taylor, in his "General Character
of the Dog," "that I watched the motions of a grateful animal
belonging to one of the workmen employed at Portsmouth dockyard. This
man had a large cur dog, who regularly every day brought him his
dinner upwards of a mile. When his wife had prepared the repast, she
tied it up in a cloth, and put it in a hand-basket; then calling
Trusty (for so he was properly named), desired him to be expeditious,
and carry his master's dinner, and be sure not to stop by the way. The
dog, who perfectly well understood his orders, immediately obeyed, by
taking the handle of the basket in his mouth, and began his journey.
It was laughable to observe that, when tired by the way, he would very
cautiously set the basket on the ground; but by no means would suffer
any person to come near it. When he had sufficiently rested himself,
he again took up his load, and proceeded forward until he came to the
dock gates. Here he was frequently obliged to stop, and wait with
patience until the porter, or some other person, opened the door. His
joy was then visible to every one. His pace increased; and with
wagging tail, expressive of his pleasure, he ran to his master with
the refreshment. The caresses were then mutual; and after receiving
his morsel as a recompense for his fidelity, he was ordered home with
the empty basket and plates, which he carried back with the greatest
precision, to the high diversion of all spectators."
Some years since, a distiller, who lived at Chelsea, in Middlesex, had
a middle-sized brown cur dog, crossed with the spaniel, which had
received so complete an education from the porter, that he was
considered a very valuable acquisition. This porter used generally to
carry out the liquors to the neighbouring customers in small casks,
tied up in a coarse bag, or put in a barrow; and whenever the man
thought proper to refresh himself (which was frequently the case), he
would stop the barrow, and calling Basto (which was the dog's name),
in a very peremptory manner bid him mind the bag; and away he went to
drink; and frequently left the barrow in the middle of the street.
Basto always rested near his trust, and sometimes apparently asleep;
which induced many idle people, who, seeing a bag in the road without
an owner, to attempt stealing the same. But no sooner had they
endeavoured to decamp with the prize, than this vigilant creature flew
at them with such outrage, as obliged them immediately to relinquish
the undertaking; and glad were they to escape with a few bites and
whole bones, and leave the tempting bait to catch other dishonest
rogues, as it had done them.
One day, a person having particular business with the master, which
required dispatch, went to the distillery adjoining the
dwelling-house, thinking it very likely he might meet him there giving
orders to the servant; and finding the outward door open, walked into
the still-room: but no sooner had he gone a few steps than a fierce
growl assailed his ears, and almost imperceptibly he was pinioned by
fear to the wall. The affrighted person called loudly for help; but
the family being at the other part of the house, his cries were
fruitless. The generous animal, however, who had the frightened man
close in custody, scorned to take a mean advantage of his situation by
recommencing hostilities. He remained perfectly quiet, unless the
delinquent attempted to stir--he then became as furious as ever; so
that the prisoner prudently remained like a statue fixed against the
wall, while Basto, like a sentinel on his post, kept a strict guard,
lest he should escape before the family arrived. In about twenty
minutes the master, in coming from the parlour to the counting-house,
beheld the prisoner, and Basto walking backwards and forwards beside
him. The dog, by a thousand gesticulations, seemed to wish a proper
explanation might take place. The master laughed heartily at the poor
fellow's expense, as did he likewise when liberated; but he had ever
after the prudence, when business brought him to the house, to ring
loudly at the door, notwithstanding it frequently stood wide open.
A carrier on his way to Dumfries had occasion to leave his cart and
horse upon the public road, under the protection of a passenger and
his dog Trusty. Upon his return, he missed a led horse belonging to a
gentleman in the neighbourhood, which he had tied to the end of a
cart, and likewise one of the female passengers. On inquiry he was
informed that, during his absence, the female, who had been anxious to
try the mettle of the pony, had mounted it, and that the animal had
set off at full speed. The carrier expressed much anxiety for the
safety of the young woman, casting at the same time an expressive look
at his dog. Trusty observed his master's eye, and aware of its
meaning, instantly set off in pursuit of the pony, which he came up
with soon after he had passed the first toll-bar on the Dalbeattie
road; when he made a sudden spring, seized the bridle, and held the
animal fast. Several people having observed the circumstance, and the
perilous situation of the girl, came to her relief. The dog, however,
notwithstanding their repeated endeavours, would not quit his hold of
the bridle; and the pony was actually led into the stable with the
dog, till such time as the carrier should arrive. Upon the carrier
entering the stable, Trusty wagged his tail in token of satisfaction,
and immediately relinquished the bridle to his master.
A short time ago a large cur, belonging to a gentleman at Richmond, in
Yorkshire, accidentally fell into a well, and for the moment he gave
him up as lost. But as a sort of desperate effort to save the dog, he
directed a boy to let down a rope he had into the well, in the hope
that possibly it might catch around his leg or neck. No sooner,
however, did the rope come within reach, than the dog seized it with
his teeth, and the parties above finding it had secured him, began to
draw up; when, about half-way up, he lost his hold and fell back.
Again the rope was let down, and again the dog seized it, and he was
drawn nearly to the mouth of the well; when his bite gave way, and the
third time he fell into the water. Once more the rope was let down,
and this time the dog took so thorough a hold, that he was brought
triumphantly up; and when set down in safety, shook the water from his
hair, and wagged his tail, apparently as proud of the exploit as the
other parties were gratified with it.