io 8 BREAKING A BIRD DOG 
rible—so, in order to back up the position I 
had taken, I wrote to my good friend “Uncle 
Mac” out at Spokane. I knew that what¬ 
ever he might say would be correct—and 
that he would be equally frank whether he 
agreed with me or not. Here is his reply 
verbatim: 
The little bitch did exactly right to eat the quail. 
What else would you have her do with a nice morsel 
like that and no one to tell her Nay? No dogs really 
have any morals about food. You may teach them 
not to help themselves when you are looking, but the 
best of them are apt to forget, just like a child, if 
something good is left within their reach and no one 
by to caution them. I once had a lovely little grey¬ 
hound bitch, mild and sweet and absolutely well be¬ 
haved, except that she would swipe anything to eat 
if she got a chance. Every once in a while she could 
not resist temptation with respect to food. In every 
other way she was a perfect lady. Once my wife 
had set some chops on a platter, ready to put on the 
table, on the front of the stove to keep them warm 
a minute while she dished the vegetables or some¬ 
thing. She had scarcely turned her back when 
Fannie quickly licked the platter clean. The Missus 
was mad for a minute, then said, “Well, poor Fan¬ 
nie, she can’t help it.” 
