I had so much work to do in my very extensive field that I required to have at least four trains always fit for service. This meant that, counting puppies and all, there would be about the premises from twenty to thirty dogs. However, as the lakes and rivers there swarmed with fish, which was their only food, we kept the pack up to a state of efficiency at but little expense. Jack and Cuffy were the only two dogs that were allowed the full liberty of the house. They were welcome in every room. Our doors were furnished with the ordinary thumb latches. These latches at first bothered both dogs. All that was needed on our part was to show them how they worked, and from that day on for years they both entered the rooms as they desired without any trouble, if the doors opened from them. There was a decided difference, however, in opening a door if it opened toward them. Cuffy was never able to do it. With Jack it was about as easily done as it was by the Indian servant girl. Quickly and deftly would he shove up the exposed latch and the curved part of the thumb piece and draw it toward him. If the door did not easily open, the claws in the other fore paw speedily and cleverly did the work. The favorite resting place of these two magnificent dogs was on some fur rugs on my study floor. Several times have we witnessed the following action in Cuffy, who was of a much more restless temperament than Jack: When she wanted to leave the study she would invariably first go to the door and try it. If it were in the slightest degree ajar she could easily draw it toward her and thus open it. If, on the contrary, it were latched, she would at once march over to Jack, and, taking him by an ear with her teeth, would lead him over to the door, which he at once opened for her. If reason is that power by which we "are enabled to combine means for the attainment of particular ends," I fail to understand the meaning of words if it were not displayed in these instances.
Both Jack and Cuffy were, as is characteristic of such dogs, very fond of the water, and in our short, brilliant summers would frequently disport themselves in the beautiful little lake, the shores of which were close to our home. Cuffy, as a Newfoundland dog, generally preferred to continue her sports in the waves some time after Jack had finished his bath. As they were inseparable companions, Jack was too loyal to retire to the house until Cuffy was ready to accompany him. As she was sometimes whimsical and dilatory, she seemed frequently to try his patience. It was, however, always interesting to observe his deference to her. To understand thoroughly what we are going to relate in proof of our argument it is necessary to state that the rocky shore in front of our home was at this particular place like a wedge, the thickest part in front, rising up about a dozen feet or so abruptly from the water. Then to the east the shore gradually sloped down into a little sandy cove. When Jack had finished his bath he always swam to this sandy beach, and at once, as he shook his great body, came gamboling along the rocks, joyously barking to his companion still in the waters. When Cuffy had finished her watery sports, if Jack were still on the rocks, instead of swimming to the sandy cove and there landing she would start directly for the place where Jack was awaiting her. If it were at a spot where she could not alone struggle up, Jack, firmly bracing himself, would reach down to her and then, catching hold of the back of her neck, would help her up the slippery rocks. If it were at a spot where he could not possibly reach her, he would, after several attempts, all the time furiously barking as though expressing his anxiety and solicitude, rush off to a spot where some old oars, paddles, and sticks of various kinds were piled. There he searched until he secured one that suited his purpose. With this in his mouth, he hurried back to the spot where Cuffy was still in the water at the base of the steep rocks. Here he would work the stick around until he was able to let one end down within reach of his exacting companion in the water. Seizing it in her teeth and with the powerful Jack pulling at the other end she was soon able to work her way up the rough but almost perpendicular rocks. This prompt action, often repeated on the part of Jack, looked very much like "the specious appearance of reasoning." It was a remarkable coincidence that if Jack were called away, Cuffy at once swam to the sandy beach and there came ashore.