The traits that have come to our household friend from his wild forebears are often shown even in the most highly domesticated inhabitants of our home. How far these inherited qualities may influence the dog’s outlook on the surroundings of his present life, who can say? As we watch our favourite turn round and round on the hearthrug, and scratch at the unresponsive rug before he curls himself up to sleep, we know that he is doing what his progenitors did in the wilds, when the action had a use that is wanting to it now in securing the comfort of his rest.
A strange habit of the same nature was shown by a fox terrier that formed one of a pack of sporting dogs. This terrier, from the time she took her place in the kennels with the older dogs, was observed to turn round sharply whenever her food was put before her. The action aroused attention, though no one could say at what stage of her puppy life it had been developed. She was watched, and never did she omit the rapid turn round as on a pivot before she tasted her food. Her mistress, who had kept her pack of terriers for years, and who studies the characters of her little kennel friends as but few people do, made inquiries of her keeper, and found that when he fed the dogs, Amora always went through the same little performance as a preliminary to the business of eating. Up to the last day of her life it was continued, but so far as is known none of her children have shown the same peculiarity. Certainly those that I have known in my friends’ kennels have not had it, and no one has been able to give a satisfactory explanation of the habit.
A very charming reason for the unusual action was given by a little girl, the niece of the owner of the kennels. The child was delighted with the terrier’s performance, and always begged to be allowed to be present at feeding time, so as to enjoy the sight of Amora’s turn. Being of a thoughtful nature, she one day gave the result of her speculations on the matter. “Auntie,” she said, with the engaging directness of the youthful thinker, “I know why Amora turns round before her dinner. She means it for her grace.” With such a solution of the mystery who would venture to quarrel?
We might well bring the same gentle sympathy to bear on our own dealings with the dog. For we often forget that the patience we give as a matter of course to the as yet untrained intelligence of the child is doubly wanted when we have to do with the dog. Intelligent as the latter is, he never rises to our level of expansion of the powers of mind, and in reading our thoughts into his we must ever remember that the higher paths of reason’s play are closed to him.