May 23, 1896.] 
i 
FOREST AND STREAM, 
421 
TRAINING HOUSE DOGS. 
Baltimore, Md. — Editor Forest and Stream: "To the 
making of books there is no end," and the converse of 
this would seem to be that the mass of ignorance is so 
great that it has no beginning, for if there was not 
ignorance there would be no need of books. The making 
of books is a healthy sign, for it indicatps on the one hand 
the enlarging of the world's store of knowledge, while 
on the other it indicates a most commendable readiness 
on the part of the masses to profit by the researches and 
discoveries of others. This fact was strongly impressed 
on me in looking over the list of books, rare gems of 
sporting literature, and comparing their variety and com- 
prehensiveness with the dearth of sporting literature 
which prevailed within the memory of man. Not long 
ago we trusted to foreign publishers and foreign writers 
for our information on sporting subjects of field and 
stream. A writer then of mediocre ability, but with a 
well-rounded pretension, was accepted as a marvel of 
brilliancy, a genius, and so strong is the force of fame 
so acquired and the willingness of the people to accept 
their opinions at second hand that trashy and superficial 
writers on sporting subjects in the early days, ones who 
living in the present day would be ignored, still live on, 
and are quoted and beslavered with praise by a few hero 
worshipers, partly bpcause it is fashionable, partly because 
the writers, if they cannot write anything original them- 
selves, can at least attract notice by writing of those who 
have fame, and will thereby be more in view sitting at 
the feet of greatness than if they stood on their own feet 
with the multitude. 
But I started to write of books on the dog. Of the 
training of hunting dogs there is a most complete litera- 
ture, and all the different branches of training are 
frequently and fully discussed, but a matter of general 
interest, the training of house dogs and pet dogs, is 
rarely touched upon. This was brought emphatically to 
my attention a few days ago on accidentally coming into 
possession of a copy of "House and Pet Dogs, their Selec- 
tion, Care and Training," published by Forest and Stream; 
and it suddenly occurred to me that, considering the 
millions of dogs in the country, it was indisputably 
strange that so little attention was paid to their education 
about the house and yard. No doubt were its instructions 
followed dogs would be better behaved, would be more 
useful, would have their intelligence better developed and 
be in every way more companionable and serviceable at 
an earlier age. The author palpably had a most profound 
insight into dog nature, and interspersed in his teachings 
are many interesting and kindly expressed dissertations 
on dog nature, habits, ways of action and thought, besides 
the mere methods of teaching certain acts. It is all 
founded on the dog's intelligence. For instance, he says: 
"I commenced by giving the dog food in a saucer, over 
which I laid the card on which was the word 'food,' plac- 
ing also by the side an empty saucer covered by a plain 
card. Van soon learned to distinguish between the two, 
and the next stage was to teach him to bring the card ; 
this he now does and hands it to me quite prettily, and 
then I give him a bone or a little food, or take him out, 
according to the card brought. He still brings sometimes 
a plain card, in which case I point out his error, and then 
he takes it back and changes it. This, however, does not 
often happen. Yesterday morning, for instance, Van 
brought me the card with 'food' on it nine times in suc- 
cession, selecting it from other plain cards, though I 
changed the relative position each time. No one that sees 
him can doubt that he understands the act of bringing the 
card with 'food' on it as a request for something to eat, 
and that he distinguishes between it and a plain card. I 
also believe that he distinguishes, for instance, between 
the card with the word 'food' on it and the card with 
'out' on it." 
This proves conclusively that the dog has powers of dis- 
crimination, and can vary his action in an intelligent 
manner, and conceding this mind is established in our 
beliefs of what are the dog's attributes. 
For myself, I try to teach my dog manners. He knows 
how to behave in and about the house. I do not permit 
him to be riotous. He has certain nooks and cornera in 
the house which he has learnt to consider his own, for in 
them he is a part of the household, yet is not in anyone's 
way. He gives a dignified alarm at the approach of 
strangers, without any of the fierce menace of actual hos- 
tility so common to most dogs. He will shut a door to 
order, will loyally guard anything intrusted to his charge, 
and will, when ordered, seek any member of the family 
and by his actions and importunities indicate that such 
member is wanted. He was taught most of these things 
by teaching him as a sensible animal. 
Knowing how easy it is to teach dogs, if the teacher is 
kind, considerate and patient, it came to my mind that 
here was a field worthy of more consideration, more ex- 
change of thought and information, with a gain in results 
in having well-behaved, good-mannered dogs, and as be- 
tween the well-behaved and the ill-behaved dog, there is 
quite as much difference as there is between the gentleman 
and the vulgarian. Educator. 
Field Trial Evolution. 
Winnipeg.— Editor Forest and Stream: I was pleased 
to read the constitution of the Handlers' Club and your 
comments on same. Their action not to run dogs in any 
trials wherein a handler is a member of the club is most 
commendable and will do much to restore field trials in 
popular favor. 
I have never swerved from the contention that the man 
who is receiving pay for his skill and ability in preparing 
a dog for a field trial should have no voice in the manage- 
ment of a field trial club. 
In consequence of the stand I took I was charged with 
assuming a social superiority that was an insult to profes- 
sional handlers. To one who is as democratic as was the 
son of Erin who contended "that one man was as good 
as another," and emphasized his remark by declaring 
"and a sight better," such charges are ridiculous. 
Let me say, however, that I have never advanced a theory 
in field trial matters that I have not tried to put in prac- 
tice, and that I have no apology to offer to those who 
have misunderstood me. 
I, however, desire permission to say that I number 
among my most esteemed friends men who train and 
manage dogs as a profession, and I think all handlers will 
admit, who have visited Manitoba, that my latch-key is 
always on the outBide, and that, at my home and at all 
times and places, I have never created a suspicion of any 
social superiority, for by so doing I should be guilty of an 
impertinent presumption. 
Another objection to the successful running of field 
trials is the expensive machinery some clubs think requi- 
site. I charge that if field trial clubs cannot find hon- 
orary secretaries it is a proof that there is no element of 
sport in their composition, and if this element is not the 
strong component of field trials, the sooner they die the 
better. 
But living as I do in a city that has more sport and 
sportsmen to the square inch than anyplace in the world, 
I know the latter contention can be overcome — at least 
here — and that clubs can live and give substantial prizes 
without exacting entry and starter's fees that would dis- 
turb the equanimity of a Barney Barnato. 
I have also been charged with inconsistency because I 
took an active part in the management of a field trial 
club and was a participant in the competitions. I admit 
— in theory — there is some truth in the above charges. I 
shall probably never again lay myself open to its repeti- 
tion. Yet a reminiscence of my actions prompts me to 
think that nothing I have said or done in connection with 
field trials has left one thought of regret at having done 
anything I would not do again. It is, however, pleasing 
to me to see that after the hard knocks I have submitted 
to, that my antagonists now recognize by their actions 
that my only object has been to increase the prestige and 
elevate field trials as a sport for sportsnien. 
Thos, Johnson. 
IS DEATH THE END? 
Some of your readers may recall an account of the say- 
ings and doings of a dog named Bug, published a year 
and a half ago, an account which brought many personal 
letters, and perhaps encouraged the writing of charming 
tales of other dogs which have appeared since. 
Bug is dead. Her short life is over and no visible 
reminder of it remains now but the little mound of fresh 
earth in the corner of the garden which has not yet had 
time to settle. I suppose most people would say that is 
the end of her. But is it? 
It is not easy to make clear the feeling with which she 
was regarded by her friends. She was not much like dogs 
— did not associate with them; showed few characteristic 
traits of heredity; demeaned, herself much like people. If 
a human soul had been prisoned at birth in a dog's body, 
it is hard to conceive him as acting much different from 
the way she did. She was a friend and companion for 
twelve years. We felt as certain and true a sense of 
bereavement when she died as if some human friend 
were gone. It will be a long time before we shall cease 
to miss her from her accustomed places. The special 
tones and phrases with which we were wont to address 
her are laid aside now, not to be used with the other dogs. 
They are left, to be sure, but they are not like her. It 
hardly seems worth while, having known her rare intelli- 
gence, to try to teach them. From prankish puppyhood 
to sedate old age her eyes beamed with an intelligence, a 
reasoning mind, not widely different from ours. She 
knew she was a dog and we were people — why the differ- 
once or in what it consisted she probably did not know 
much better than we do. Sbe understood our relations, 
was reflective and contemplative by turns; had fits of 
humor and hours of depression; was glad and sorry; knew 
many things she ought to do and many to abstain from, 
and behaved accordingly. Other dogs may give us their 
incorruptible welcome of wagging tail and joyous looks, 
but we shall miss the look of conscious good-fellowship 
in her kind old eyes. She had a dignity and character, a 
well-marked identity of her own. She had most human 
virtues and few human vices. For twelve years she acted 
well her part; did it willingly and lovingly; gave much to 
the entertainment of her friends; did all that was asked 
of her, all she was meant to do. Now the question is, Is 
this all? 
Was she a skillfully contrived automaton, designed to 
feel and do all these things, wound up to run twelve 
years and then stop forever? Or did she have a spark of 
what we humans hope and believe in our own case is 
eternal fire? I say "hope and believe in our own case." 
Do we really have anything but hope and belief in our 
own case? Do we really know anything at all about it? 
Is not all our argument and conviction of another life 
for ourselves only a recognition of the unreasonableness 
and therefore unlikelihood of this imperfect, futile and 
sorrowful existence being the end? Are we not thrust 
into this life as one might be thrust into a dark room and 
the door then closed behind him? And do we not go 
feeling our way around the walls and across the middle, 
bumping up against the facts this dark room of life con- 
tains, sorely bruised in our blind gropings, learning noth- 
ing about the essence of things, only a little about their 
relations to each other and to ourselves, until, at last, 
another door opens and we are thrust out — into the dark 
of death or the light of another life, as we hope. And if 
so, who are we that we should deny a like prospect to 
our lesser brethren who wear their own fur and feathers, 
whose harmless and beneficent lives are often full of 
hunger, thirst, cold, blows, and unrequited toil and Buf- 
fering, for much.of which we are ourselves guilty? Who 
shall make recompense to. them for these things if death 
is for them the end of all? If another life is necessary to 
even up the injustice, to repay the suffez-ing, to requite 
the toil, to retrieve the mistakes of this, why is it not so 
for them as well as for us? Else, where shall the starved, 
worn-out and beaten horses have justice? Where shall 
the hunted thing, gasping its wounded life away in the 
hidden brake, be recompensed? Where shall the agony 
of the myriad innocent lives yielded up in inch by incn 
torture on the bloody altars of "science" under the vivi- 
sector's devilish rites be made good to them? And if 
there is a place and time where these things shall be 
righted, how many of us would like to meet there the 
ghosts of the dumb, innocent creatures that fell into our 
hands here? 
Since none of us really knows what is ahead, it would 
seem that we have a right each to his conjeetures, his 
hopes and beliefs. If there is no other life for such a 
creature as my dog was, I see no sufficient reason to expect 
one for myself. And if for her, why then for all living, 
sensitive creatures. If there is no justice for the starved 
and beaten horse, for the piece of mangled meat that 
gasped its life out in the vivisector's torture trough, then 
there is not likely to be any for me, whose deserts are 
probably no greater and whose wrongs are certainly far 
legs. 
For myself, I cherish the belief, to which my hopes as 
well as my sense of what is right and just inevitably lead 
me, that there is another and fairer life for all the victims 
of this, and that we shall see again in snme shape the 
creatures faithful to us and beloved by us here. If we 
shall see each other, shall we not also see again these pets 
whose gentle ways twine them into our affection?? If the 
prospect of reuniting the threads of love and friendship 
broken by death is one of the chief reasons for and allure- 
ments toward a belief in a life to come, why should it not 
include four-footed friends as well? It is in no sacrilegious 
spirit nor one of mock sentiment when I say that not the 
least pleasant sight to my eyes upon the "further shore" 
would be my dog friend who has just gone, and if she is 
there, I feel quite sure she will be standing with her fore- 
paws in the water's edge when it is my turn to cross. 
E. K. Whitehead. 
THE IMPORTATION OF THE DOG. 
Montreal. — Editor Forest and Stream: Did you ever 
import a dog? In the vast and varied writings in Forest 
and Stream on dogs, which have kept the people up with 
the times in dog news and dog matters in the years since 
there were such news and matters, I have failed to note 
any instructive writing as to the best way to import a 
dog and present him to the public. 
As one who has had some experience himself and who 
has noted the ways of others in similar undertakings, I 
beg to give you the successful manner of conducting such 
affairs. It is more than it seems. It is an art of some 
depth. A man who imports a dog must know human 
nature. Buying a dog and carrying him safely over the 
ocean is but a part. It is the least part — that is, it is the 
least part if we consider a broad financial policy. The 
importer of a dog is purposeful. He is making the most 
of opportunity. He has in view always the profits of his 
purchase, which he makes as an investment. To reap 
the greatest profit, no lost time must intervene after the 
dog is landed. 
As a policy, there are two courses open to the buyer. 
He can import the dog openly. He or the seller causes a 
great tooting of horns in the English papers. The dog's 
past is praised and his future exalted. He is sure to 
change the whole American kennel world to a beatific 
degree. The moment of his departure for our shores is 
heralded to the world. The most fashionable steamship, 
and that is mostly the fastest, is engaged for his journey. 
His landing is a signal for renewed activity. Again the 
story is told with added unction. The kennel world is 
kept on the qui vive. And this is all right. The buyer 
has spent large sums of money. His doings have been 
open to the view of the world. He wins for his enter- 
prise all the fame and good will which it deserves. 
The second method is one of dexterity, one of finesse. 
The dog may be a good one. He may be of great reputa- 
tion, or he may be the progeny of ones of great reputa- 
tion. He may be a dog of genuine worth or he may not. 
In either case, it is the scheme of the purposeful buyer to 
make the public believe that the dog is a wonder. Then 
the kennel editor is a part. How can he be made to do 
the puppet dance? 
I say it with all respect to that honorable and hard- 
worked body Of martyrs, the kennel writers, that my 
ideas of them to-day are different from what they were 
some years ago. My ideal then was a man with a shiny 
bald head, under whose poll rested a pocketful, a wealth, 
of assorted brains. Since then I am led to believe that 
their heads are plentifully provided with hair. But there 
is one overwhelming weakness which the kennel editor 
has; he is not conscious that it is a weakness. Once skill- 
fully contrive to let the kennel editor know that there is 
something afoot in a doggy way that he doesn't know 
and the spell is woven. Pretend it is a deep, dark secret. 
Keep him in suspense awhile — not too long. You want 
the world to know that you have imported a dog. You 
therefore do it as a secret matter. You inform the ken- 
nel editor mysteriously that you are constrained to tell 
only him that you have a sensational nameless dog of a 
nameless breed, which is to arrive on a nameless steamer 
on a nameless date, and that he must not use this news — 
lay great stress on the news, and in his eagerness he will 
not perceive that he is being worked for advertising. He 
will ask a hundred questions, but you tell him no more; 
nevertheless, as a last great favor, consent that he may 
make an announcement of what he knows, and that you 
will tell him the particulars later, out of the great person- 
al affection you bear him. In his next issue he will write 
this: "In a few days, through the enterprise of that 
popular and wise member of the fancy, who has done so 
much J or the advancement of the dog in general and the 
market dog in particular, the fancy will be treated to a 
sensation. He is importing the finest and best dog of the 
season, a phenomenon in its way, and we will treat our 
readers to full and exclusive particulars in our next 
issue." Here the buyer, by making the editor work 
hard for his news, makes advertising easy. The buyer 
plays on the editor's weakness and advertising comes 
easy. It is dead easy. If he had come to the editor and 
said, "Here, my boy, old friend, I am going to import 
the dog Scrap End, and I want you to give him a good 
send off, so as to advertise him," the spell would have 
been broken and Scrap End might never have been heard 
of outside of the advertising columns. 
But Scrap End arrives, and as a special favor the ken- 
nel editor is permitted to receive the dog on landing. 
The next wee£ he writes, "We publish exclusively this 
week an exceedingly life-like picture of Scrap End, of 
whom we made mention last week. He shows some 
effectB of his sea voyage, as we needs must expect, but 
our preconceived opinion of him did not do justice to 
him. The English papers said of him: 'Rarely has it been 
our privilege to see a dog so faultless. His coat could not 
be improved on by art. Form perfect. We are quite 
sure that his present owner would not sell him for any 
money to a resident of England, although he might be 
tempted to let him go to America under satisfactory con- 
ditions.' And," continues the editor, "this news is ex- 
clusively in our columns." .. Amateur. 
The pulse of the dog runs from 72 to 90 in his normal 
condition, while his temperature is from 101.5 to 102.6. 
The chicken trials of the Continental Field Trials Club 
will be held on Sept. 7, not on the 9th, as erroneously pub- 
lished. 
