254 THE BOOK OF A NATURALIST 
then to skulk home, smelling abominably of carrion 
and carnage, and, hiding under their master’s sofa, 
or other dark place, to spend the time licking their 
wounds until they are well again and ready to go 
out in search of fresh adventures. For God hath 
made them so. 
But this is by no means the view of the gentle 
ladies and mild-tempered gentlemen who own them, 
nor, I dare say, of any canophilist, whether the 
owner of a dog or not. What these people want 
is that their canine friends shall have the same 
liberty enjoyed by themselves to make use of our 
streets and parks without risk of injury or insult; 
that they shall be free to notice or not the saluta- 
tions and advances of others of their kind; to 
graciously accept or contemptuously refuse, with 
nose in air, according to the mood they may happen 
to be in or to the state of their digestive organs, an 
invitation to a game of romps. This liberty and 
safety they do now undoubtedly enjoy, thanks to 
the much-abused muzzling order. 
It is true that to the canine mind this may not 
be an ideal liberty: “For on a knight that hath 
neither hardihood nor valour in himself, may not 
another knight that hath more force in him reason- 
ably prove his mettle; for many a time have I 
heard say that one is better than other.” These 
words, spoken by the Best Knight in the World, 
exactly fit the case of the fox-terrier, or any other 
vigorous variety whose one desire when he goes 
out into the world is reasonably to prove his 
