Собака и мужик

THERE are men and women in the world who, of their own free will, live a
dogless life, not knowing what they miss; and for them this essay,
securely placed in the dignified Atlantic, there to remain so long as
libraries and books shall endure, is chiefly written. Let them not pass
it by in scorn, but rather stop to consider what can be said of the
animal as a fellow being entitled to their sympathy, and having,
perhaps, a like destiny with themselves.

As to those few persons who are not only dogless but dog-haters, they
should excite pity rather than resentment. The man who hates a good dog
is abnormal, and cannot help it. I once knew such a man, a money-lender
long since passed away, whose life was largely a crusade against dogs,
carried on through newspapers, pamphlets, and in conversation.

He used to declare that he had often been bitten by these animals, and
that, on one occasion, a terrier actually jumped on the street-car in
which he was riding, took a small piece out of his leg (a mere soup;on,
no doubt), and then jumped off—all without apparent provocation, and in
a moment of time. Probably this story, strange as it may sound, was
substantially true. The perceptions of the dog are wonderfully acute. A
recent occurrence may serve as the converse of the money-lender's story.
A lost collie, lame and nearly starved, was taken in, fed, and cared for
by a household of charitable persons, who, however, did not like or
understand dogs, and were anxious to get rid of this one, provided that
a good home could be found for him. In the course of a week there came
to call upon them in her buggy an old lady who is extremely fond of
dogs, and who possesses that combination of a masterful spirit with deep
affection which acts like witchcraft upon the lower animals. The collie
was brought out, and the story of his arrival was related at length.
Meanwhile the old lady and the dog looked each other steadfastly in the
eye. 'Do you want to come with me, doggie?' she said at last, not really
meaning to take him. Up jumped the dog, and sat down beside her, and
could not be dislodged by any entreaties or commands—and all parties
were loath to use force. She took him home, but brought him back the
next day, intending to leave him behind her. Again, however, the dog
refused to be parted from his new and real friend. He bestowed a
perfunctory wag of the tail upon his benefactors—he was not ungrateful;
but, like all dogs, he sought not chiefly meat and bones and a
comfortable place by the fire, but affection and caresses. The dog does
not live that would refuse to forsake his dinner for the companionship
of his master.

The mission of the dog—I say it with all reverence—is the same as the
mission of Christianity, namely, to teach mankind that the universe is
ruled by love. Ownership of a dog tends to soften the hard hearts of
men. There are two great mysteries about the lower animals: one, the
suffering which they have to endure at the hands o