DOGS AND DOG LOVERS 225 



than the wish to deceive. I had an old Scotch 

 terrier, who in his youth, before I knew him, had 

 been called Nigel, no doubt because he was black 

 and small, but as he grew up he somehow acquired 

 the uncouth name of Scrubbins. At one stage of 

 his career he was condemned to death for eczema. 

 I begged him off, and he lived some five years with 

 me, and was cured of his eczema by the devoted 

 care of a servant. He was a dog of large heart, 

 who, while he cared for others, was especially 

 devoted to me. In his old age his eyes became 

 dim and his limbs stiff. He had a pathetic way of 

 standing staring into my eyes, or with difficulty 

 getting his paws on to my knees to ask to have his 

 head rubbed, an attention of which he never 

 wearied. No one could doubt that this was his 

 expression of the mutual love that bound us to each 

 other. This was the indestructible impression 

 produced, and it is useless to tell me that he may 

 have been striving to conceal some crime, or at least 

 some base and worldly point of view. When 

 sentiment is applied to facts, rational conclusions 

 are apt to be rare — but without a share of 

 sentiment there might have been no facts to 

 record. 



There are innumerable cases proving the 

 devotion of dogs — a passion surviving the master's 

 death, and prolonged until the dog himself dies. 

 Such is the story of the heroic dog seen to watch 

 his master's dead body in South America, keeping 

 the vultures off it, and only allowing himself an 

 occasional rush to the river for water, until he too 

 died. What is there here but a passion of love ? 



