The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Airedale, by Williams Haynes

The Airedale

CONTENTS

  CHAPTER I

THE BIGGEST AND BEST TERRIER

It was in the Merchants' Hotel, Manchester—a famous gathering place for the dog fanciers of the English Midlands, the most thickly dog populated district in the whole world—that one autumn evening I heard the best definition of an Airedale that I ever knew. A party of us, fresh from some bench show, were seated round a table waiting for dinner, and naturally we were talking dog, telling dog stories, anecdotes, and jokes. I gave the American definition of a dachshund; "half a dog high and a dog and a half long," and Theodore Marples, editor of Our Dogs, turning to a quiet little man, noted as a wild fanatic on the subject of Airedales, asked him his definition of his favorite breed. Quick as a spark he answered, "The biggest and best terrier!"

There are thousands of people, all sorts of people from bankers to beggars, scattered all over this earth from Dawson City to Capetown, from Moscow to Manila, who will echo the statement that the Airedale is indeed the biggest and the best of all the terriers. Moreover, their votes would not be bribed by mere sentiment, but based upon good, sound reasons, for it is certain that he is the biggest, and he is "best" at doing more things than any other dog in the stud book.

An Airedale will drive sheep or cattle; he will help drag a sled; he will tend the baby; he will hunt anything from a bear to a field mouse. He can run like a wolf and will take to water like an otter. He does not "butt in" looking for trouble with each dog that he passes on the street, but once he is "in" he will stick, for he is game as a pebble. He is kind, obedient, thoroughly trustworthy as a companion for children, or a watchman for your property. He has the disposition of a lamb combined with the courage of a lion. He is certainly the most all-round dog that there is and, unlike many Jacks-of-all-trades, he is apparently quite able to master all tasks a dog is called upon to perform.

Over and above his talents and his character, the Airedale has a constitution made of steel and stone. He is equally at home in the snow wastes of the Arctic Circle and on the alkali deserts of Arizona. The dry, bracing air of Colorado and the fever-soaked atmosphere of Florida's Everglades both seem to agree with him perfectly. A sick Airedale is just about as common as a dodo.

"The biggest and best terrier" indeed fits him to a T, but it does not convey any very definite idea as to what he should look like. Even his most enthusiastic admirers never claimed beauty for the Airedale. He is not pretty, unless we acknowledge that "handsome is that handsome does," and can see the beauty of perfect symmetry under wiry coat and odd coloring.

A good Airedale is about as big as a pointer; somewhere in the neighborhood of forty-five pounds, a little more for a dog and a little less for a bitch. His head should be long; the skull flat and broad; the cheeks smooth; the muzzle strong with tight lips over big, white, even teeth. His eyes should be small, dark, and full of fire and his ears little, carried high, and shaped like a V, for nothing can so detract from the correct terrier expression as large, light eyes and houndy ears. His front legs ought to be a pair of gun barrels, straight and strong and about the same thickness all the way down. His shoulders are like those of a race horse, long and sloping; while his pads should be firm and hard, not those loose, sprawly feet sometimes seen.

The only kind of a back for him to have is short, and his ribs must be well sprung. A long backed dog lacks staying qualities, and a slab-sided one has not the room for lungs. His chest should be deep, but narrow, and he should be slightly cut up in the loin—not the wasp-like waist of a greyhound,—but no better is a body like a stovepipe. His hindquarters should be strong, with the hocks quite near the ground. The Airedale that does not carry a gay tail is a delight to no eye.

Last, but not least, comes the coat. In color this should be a deep, rich tan on the head, face, chest, legs, and under parts, while over the back is a saddle of black or iron-grey. Personally, I like the black more than the grizzle, for it makes a prettier contrast with the tan, but "a good horse cannot be a bad color." The Airedale's coat is (or rather should be) double. The overcoat is of hair like wire, stiff and hard, about an inch long all over the dog, except on the skull where it is shorter. Under this jacket of wire, there ought to be a vest of soft, woolly hair.

If you can collect in your mind's eye all the above details of description you should see a big, strong, compact, businesslike dog, full of the proverbial up-and-ever-coming spirit that inspires all terriers. His every movement shows strength, yet he always moves in that effort-economizing way which is the very personification of grace. When running he sweeps along with the free open stride of a galloping thoroughbred, with his head often carried low, but his tail always high.

Very often the man wanting a dog for hunting, for a guard, for a pal turns up his nose at all the finely enumerated details in which the standard describes the fanciers' ideal of Airedale perfection. He is wrong, for, as the advertisements say, "There's a reason." Take the double coat for example. The Airedale was originally bred to be a water dog. The wiry coat sheds water like a duck's back, and the undercoat keeps him warm in all weather. With the kind of a jacket for which the standard calls an Airedale can swim the river, scramble out, shake himself, roll over, and be dry. Moreover, such a coat is a perfect armor against all kinds of thorns, claws, and teeth. The long, clean head with its strong muzzle means a jaw with plenty of room for big, strong teeth and muscles to shut those teeth as quickly and as surely as a spring trap.

Of course, not one Airedale in a thousand comes within seventy-five per cent. of being all that the standard describes. The average, however, is high in America; much higher here than anywhere else in the world, except England, and our best can even hold their own with the champions from the land of the breed's creation. Americans who have been interested in the dog have been blessed with enough of this world's goods to buy what they want, and almost without exception, they have been inspired with the best fancier ideal, that of breeding their own winners.

This has given us a breeding stock second only in numbers to that of Great Britain in the hands of men who could and would use the material to the best advantage. Accordingly, the American-bred Airedale is noted the world over as a show dog, and in no other country has the breed's sporting possibilities been so fully tested as here in the United States.

By birth and breeding the Airedale is a sporting terrier. A dog bred originally to do the work of a vermin destroyer, he has taken naturally to all kinds of game. In the Rockies, he is used on bear, and he has won a name as a dog of exceptional brains, unfailing courage, and remarkable stamina at work from which no fool, coward, or weakling comes home to supper. On the farms of New England, he is cherished as an exterminator of wood-chucks, moles, rats, and vermin of this class. He hunts all the way down the scale from the giant "silver tip" to the mouse in the pantry—mountain lions, wolves, panthers, lynx, wild cats, foxes, coons, skunks, rabbits, mink, what not, each and all he hunts with equal gusto and success. Is it any wonder that though the Airedale is only a little over half a century old his fame has spread from pole to pole?

The Airedale is a dog that no one can know well without becoming his friend, but all his friends do not know him well. For this reason, and because so much depends upon one's first dog, it seems particularly necessary to give some advice to intending Airedale purchasers, whom we may divide into dog owners and kennel owners. By a dog owner I mean one who wants an Airedale or two as a companion, guard, and all-round dog. Kennel owners are those who intend keeping, breeding, and showing or hunting several dogs.

The dog owner does not as a rule think it worth while to post himself on the history and points of the breed. He has heard the praises sung of "the biggest and best terrier," and has decided that he is the dog he wants. If that is all he wants let him get some friend to give him an Airedale puppy or let him buy one as cheaply as he can, but he is going to lose half the pleasure of owning a good dog of a good breed. Merrinac, the best known maitre d'armes in France, once said to a party of American fencers that it was the romance of the sword that made fencing so fascinating to its devotees, and there is romance in the history of the Airedale that weaves its charm round an Airedale owner. Whatever we know well is interesting and wonderful, and a knowledge of the Airedale's past and his points, which is an absolute necessity to the kennel owner, adds one hundred per cent. to the dog owner's pleasure.

The wise dog owner then will learn all he can about his breed. "Book larnin'" is good, but better still are talks with all sorts and conditions of Airedale owners and a visit to an Airedale kennel or the ringside at a dog show when the breed is being judged. No men ride their hobbies harder than dog fanciers, and all will talk and from all can something be learned.

When one has learned something about Airedales let him then buy his dog. It is best to buy a dog about six months old—old enough to be over puppy ills and not too old to learn new tricks. A puppy of that age, over distemper and house broken, is as satisfactory as it is possible for a pup to be. Bringing up a terrier puppy is hard on one's shoes, the ladies' hats, and everyone's disposition, but it is much more satisfactory to train him yourself in the ways you would have him go.

In picking out a puppy select the bright little chap to whom you are naturally attracted—I am advising the "dog owner" who knows the breed well enough not to be interested in any litter not of orthodox breeding. Only in case of doubt need you pay attention to show points. If it comes to a question of that pick the dark eye, small ear, long head, short back, straight legs. Do not worry about size or color or coat, nor must a novice expect to be able to "pick the winner" of a litter. Go to a reputable breeder and pay as much as you can afford. You can take his advice, for all dog breeders are not crooks and grafters, but like any other kind of a business transaction knowledge is very valuable to the purchaser.

May I plead the case of the bitch as a companion? Nine out of ten want a dog, but a bitch has many advantages. She is usually more clever, a great deal more affectionate and faithful, much less given to roaming from home, and should one ever want to raise some puppies she may prove a valuable investment.

The kennel owner, turning now to him, will, I take it for granted, read all he can lay his hands on that treats of the Airedale, go to shows, visit kennels, and talk, think, and dream Airedale. If he is to have a small kennel I advise his buying one or two good young bitches. Puppies are a chance and old bitches, however famous, are poor breeding stock. Buy young winning bitches, proved mothers and of desirable blood lines and you will have the best possible start along the road of kennel success. It is as rocky a thoroughfare as the proverbial one to Dublin, full of all sorts of disappointments and maybe even losses, but its pleasures and its gains are sure to come to the man who follows it in the right spirit.

The large kennel owner is either going into it for pleasure, where he will have a check book to help him, or for a business. In the former case he will probably leave much on the shoulders of his kennel manager, and I am writing on Airedales not the servant problem. If he is going to make a business of raising Airedales that is his business, not the author's.

To all Airedale buyers let me again say that it pays to know all you can about the breed and to buy the best you can afford. The "biggest and best terrier" has been tried by so many different people in all parts of the world and has won such unanimous praise that his admirers can recommend him to anyone, anywhere, for anything.

  CHAPTER II

THE AIREDALE'S HISTORY

The Airedale is a product of the middle of the nineteenth century and was manufactured in Yorkshire. The streams that tumble down the deep vales of that Midland county are the homes of hundreds of crafty, hardbitten otters; there are thieving foxes and very game, but very rascally badgers in snug dens in the hills; many a swift English hare lives in the broad game preserves. The hardy Yorkshireman of 1850—his sons and grandsons to-day are real "chips of the old block"—loved nothing so much as a hunt after the vermin, with possibly a rat killing contest with "a couple o' bob" at stake of a Saturday night, and sometimes, on moonless nights, when game keepers were asleep, a little trip after the filling for a rabbit pie. Now, you cannot do these things without a dog that is brainy, game, obedient, and as much at home in water as on dry land; so they just naturally set to work to make themselves such a dog.

All this we know positively, but when it comes to saying anything definite about how they made that dog, which we now call the Airedale, you begin to deal in traditions as conflicting as theories on the Martian canals and speculations as vague as old wives' tales. Taking all the yarns and guesses and boiling them down to an average, we find that the Airedale, so most people think, was originally a cross between a tan-grizzle terrier, now extinct or absorbed in other breeds, but once common in the Midlands, and the otterhound, a big, wire-coated water dog of the bloodhound type, that comes in all colors of Joseph's famous coat, but mainly white with black and tannish markings. To this cross were added dashes of bull terrier, which breed was, at that time, just coming to the fore with its deserved reputation for grit, and Bedlington terrier, a light-weight, top-knotted dog from the North of England.

Probably there were sprinkles of the blood of the collie and of all terriers found at the time between the Midlands and the Scottish Borderland. All these (fox, Manchester, Welsh, Old English, and Dandy Dinmont) were then more or less indefinite as to type and uncertain as to breeding, which helps materially in making confusion worse confounded. Just how and why this strange, indefinite mixture should have resulted in the Airedale no one can say. The otterhound donated the size and the love of the water, and all the terrier blood made him a terrier in spite of his size. From the very beginning the breed had the advantage of having an object. The Yorkshireman wanted a big, strong, dead game, water-loving terrier. That furnished a standard to breed to, and they got what they wanted.

When the fame of this dog first spread from the valleys of his birthplace, he was pretty well established as to type, and once taken up by the dog showing fancy and a standard drawn up the type was soon firmly fixed. Since his first introduction to the world he has changed, becoming somewhat larger. The seers and wise men of English dogdom raised a great hullaballoo when this giant among terriers appeared, saying that no dog over twenty pounds could be a terrier because a terrier must go to earth. The dog, however, was mainly terrier in blood and so very certainly terrier in characteristics that he was classed with the family. Maybe it is out of respect to the authorities of the early days of the dog fancy that we have gradually dropped the terrier in his name, and though it is a part of his official title, still the dog is universally spoken of as the Airedale.

This, however, was not his original name, for in early days he was called the "waterside terrier," and his official début at the English dog shows was in classes for "broken-haired working terriers." Both titles were felt to be too indefinite, and "Stonehenge," the sporting authority, suggested "Bingley terrier," from the town in the heart of the district where the breed originated. Local jealousies prevented any one town giving its name to the breed, and there was quite a war waged till some unrecorded genius suggested that, as the birthplace of the breed had been in the valleys of the Aire River and its little tributaries, Airedale was the best name. So Airedale he became, having an official christening at the Otley show in the late seventies.

Besides adding some ten pounds to his weight and getting a distinctive and pleasing name, the Airedale has changed in other ways since he took his light from under the bushel basket. His head has lengthened, following the tendency of all terrier breeds. His shoulders, legs, and feet are worlds better now than they were years ago, but coats have suffered. The wire jacket has improved, but the woolly undervest has been sacrificed, though now more and more attention is being paid to this by breeders and judges.

The honor of having brought the first Airedale to America is generally ascribed to Mr. C. H. Mason, who is better known to this generation of fanciers as a cocker spaniel owner and editor of Man's Best Friend. He was originally a Yorkshire man, who had known and loved the breed since his youth. He imported Bruce, a fairish dog, blind in one eye, but useful in stud, where he sired Ch. Brush. Bruce is merely a sentiment with Americans, for all he has left is a reputation for bad temper and a yarn about having been sold for a few dollars at a horse auction in New York in 1885.

The breed first "took on" in New York, but Philadelphia has long been its stronghold. The Quaker City, boasting such fanciers as Clement Newbold, William Barclay, Russel H. Johnson, W. H. Whittem, Daniel Buckley, and Dr. Henry Jarrett, has away and beyond passed other cities in the number and quality of its Airedales. In early days the New York fancy was represented by Mr. J. L. Lorillard, the purchaser of Clonmel Marvel, whose importation boomed the breed's stock in this country; Messrs. De Witt Cochrane, Foxhall Keene, and C. O'Donnel, all of whom have not been so active lately. Later Theodore Offerman, James H. Brookfield, James Watson, and John Gough entered the game, and they figure to-day as owners of winners.

This is a short sketch of how the breed originated and how they came to America, but real "history is men, not events," or rather dogs, not events. It is interesting, but more important is a knowledge of the dogs of the past. In limited space, one can only say a word or two about the most famous of the breed's celebrities, so I must be pardoned if some reader is disappointed in not finding mention of some dog in which he is particularly interested. Almost each year has seen its good dogs, but we can only touch those which time has declared to be truly great.

The sigh for "the good old days" is common in all things, and we often hear it from dog fanciers. It is good food for talk, but that is all, for the old-timers of any breed could not win in the ring against the cracks of to-day. Among the very early Airedale winners were: Tanner, Young Tanner, Rustic Twig, Rustic Kitty, Rustic Lad, Newbold Fritz, Vixen, and Venom, none of whom would be one, two, three in a good show to-day. Clip and Ch. Cholmondeley Briar were the two first really good dogs. Clip was a sound, honest dog who showed real modern type, and gave black, real terrier eyes to his pups; while Briar was the first real show hero, having gone undefeated till he met Clonmel Marvel.

Clonmel Marvel, one of the really great dogs of the world, was bred by a novice, a Mr. F. C. Brown, who mated his Cholmondeley Mona to Clipper, a good dog, but no wonder. There were nine in the litter, and Mr. Brown showed Marvel, whom he called Warfield Victor, in a £3 Selling Class, where he was placed second, being sadly out of condition. "Jack" Holgate saw the rough diamond, bought it, and resold it to Messrs. Mills and Buckley, the famous Clonmel firm. Marvel beat all of his time—dogs and bitches—and won eighteen championships. Eventually he came to America, along with Ch. Clonmel Sensation and Clonmel Veracity. He was by far the best Airedale seen up to his time, a dog hard to fault, even in "the light of modern criticism." He proved as wonderful a sire as he was a show crack, and much of real terrier style in the breed to-day is due to him.

A contemporary of Marvel's was Ch. Dumbarton Lass, who also came to this side of the Atlantic to the kennels of Mr. Joseph Laurin, in Montreal. She was bred by Capt. Baird Smith, who benched her at Woolwich in poor condition. Mr. A. E. Jennings, whose kennels were then paramount, bought her and showed her for three years, when she went to Mr. Stuart Noble and was later bought by the Canadian fancier. She proved a gold mine as a brood bitch and was personally hard to fault—barring her coat.

But the most wonderful brood bitch of the breed, one whose name should be written in gold in the Airedale Hall of Fame, was not a great show winner. She was Bath Lady. Her first big winning puppy was Briarwood, who came out in London in 1896. Briarwood was by Hyndman Briar, by Willow Nut, and like all Bath Lady stock proved his value in the breeding kennels. His most famous get was the beautiful bitch of Ch. Broadlands Bashful. We can only mention two others of Bath Lady's offspring, but those fanciers who have dogs in whose pedigrees she appears can congratulate themselves. To Ch. Clonmel Marvel she produced Ch. Clonmel Kitty, a really good one all over, and to Master Briar she had Walton Victory, even better—except in skull—than Kitty.

During the nineties the Tone Kennels with Ch. Tone Jerry, whose forte was his wonderful coat and color, and Ch. Tone Crack, excelling in bone, coat, and body, but broad across the skull, had a big say in the prize-lists. In 1896 Studholme Sherry came out and was hailed as a flyer, but he did not last, though in his day he was a beautiful terrier.

Ch. Clonmel Monarch, who has done so much for Philadelphia's Airedale supremacy as a sire and as a show dog came as near the ideal Airedale as we find, made his début about this time in Leicester and ran second to Ch. Rock Salt. Monarch was undeveloped, but six months later at Alexandra Palace he came to his own and after that his show record in England was an unbroken string of firsts. He was a grand terrier—almost faultless—his coat waved a bit and his critics used to say he was "so fine he was bitchy." Just to mention some of his pups shows what he was at stud: Ch. Broadlands, Royal Descendant, Ch. Tone Regent, Ch. Clonmel Bed Rock, Claverhouse Enchantress, Clonmel Coronation, and Strathallan Solace. Ch. Rock Salt, mentioned as the conqueror of Monarch, was a good one whom Americans know best through Ch. The New King, his son, who has done so well for the New England fancier, Mr. Arthur Merritt.

Ch. Tone Masterpiece—known here as Ch. York Masterpiece, for Mr. Offerman gave him his own kennel's prefix—was a dog of ups and downs, but he was an honest champion, who just missed being great. His son (bred in England) Floriform was another good dog who did things in New York in the early years of the new century where he was owned by Mr. Offerman and later by Mr. Brookfield. Floriform was the sire of Ch. Engaflora, the first great American bitch.

In 1902 two good but unfortunate sons of Clonmel Monarch came out, Ch. Legrams Prince—a real flyer—and Bandolero, who never got his just deserts at the shows. Rheumatism spoiled Prince's shoulders for the show ring and his ill-starred half brother died of wasp stings. A contemporary of these dogs was Ch. Wombwell Rattler, a rattling good one with a softish coat who sired Mr. Offerman's well known crack Ch. York the Conqueror. In the same year (1902) Ch. Delph Girl, wonderful color and coat, good head and expression, but too fine, and Ch. Dumbarton Sceptre, the best bitch of the time, both made their début and eventually came to the United States. The dam of Sceptre, Claverhouse Enchantress (by Clonmel Monarch out of Clonmel Winifreda), needs special mention. She won a number of prizes, but soon passed into the hands of a novice, Mrs. Cuthell, and as a mother and grand-mother of champions made a place for herself second only to Bath Lady. Dumbarton Sceptre and Claverhouse Sorcerer—the former a real flyer, the other a dog above the average—were in her first litter. Her second, by Ch. Master Briar, resulted in the great Ch. Mistress Royal, probably the best show bitch produced. Enchantress was next bred to her own son Solace, mentioned above, but died of poison before whelping.

Ch. Clonmel Bed Rock, whom Mr. Foxhall Keene later imported, came out about this time. He was a good, sound terrier, full of fire, sound as a bell, with wonderful legs and feet and won lots of honors here and in England. Ch. Broadland's Royal Descendant was a rival of Bed Rock and a very classy dog with exceptional coat, real terrier fire, a good head, but not very beautiful ears.

After these dogs came Ch. Master Royal, which brings us down to the dogs of to-day—if not the present generation and it is out of place to say aught of dogs which one can see and judge in flesh and blood.

The show cracks have so very often proved so valuable in the breeding kennels that the two terms—great sire and show crack—may seem synonyms. They are not. Nevertheless there is a close chain that binds the whole of a breed of dogs to the show ring, for the show ring winners are the dogs most often sought for breeding purposes and so the styles of the main bench authorities are forcibly, if unwittingly, thrust on the race. The Airedale, however, has always been known and appreciated as a sporting terrier. His owners have fortunately never lost sight of the reason he was manufactured, and they remember that to-day he is intended to be a rough-and-ready dog, willing and able to do all terrier work just a little better than the other members of the family, and because of his greater weight enabled to do things his smaller cousins could not even attempt. His great usefulness has kept him from being wholly at the mercy of the faddists of the dog shows, who have given him all the great advantages of their skill in scientific breeding and all the advertising of public exhibition without turning him into a freak.

  CHAPTER III

THE CARE OF A TERRIER

One of the most noted veterinarians in New York once said to me that, if it were not for too much or too little attention, he doubted if he should ever be called upon to treat a dog. He explained his meaning by adding that the toy dogs are generally killed by kindness and most terriers die of neglect. If this is true, and this doctor has a canine practice that keeps him busy from morning till night, there must be something radically wrong with the care of most dogs.

The terriers—for the evils of a candy diet and a life spent on silken pillows do not need to be even mentioned here—the terriers can, it is perfectly true, get along with less attention than most breeds of dogs, for they all have wonderful constitutions. Does that, however, give the terrier owner a free right and license to neglect his dogs?

It is almost a joke to keep such a naturally healthy dog as a terrier in the pink of condition. All he needs is dry, clean kennels, with decent bedding; good, nourishing food at regular hours; all the fresh water he wants to drink; plenty of exercise, and a little grooming. Given these few things and a terrier will be "disgustingly well," full of high spirits, and happy as a clam at high tide. It is really so easy to keep a terrier "fit," and it means so much to the dog and his owner, whether he be a dog owner for pleasure or profit, that it is nothing less than criminal not to do so.

Kennels, bedding, food and feeding, water, exercise, and grooming—these are the things which given proper attention mean a healthy and happy dog. Let us take them up, one at a time, for it is as often ignorance as thoughtlessness that causes the trouble.

The question as to the kind of a kennel is bound to have a variety of different answers according to whether one lives in the city or the country, in the North or the South, and whether one is to keep one dog or fifty. There are, however, certain fundamental considerations that apply to any home for dogs.

In the first place, all terriers, especially those wearing those wonderful, double, weather-proof garments we call "wire coats," are best off living the simple life out of doors. This is true in any climate. I used to have all sorts of troubles with the skins and coats of my wire terriers till I just turned them out, providing them with dry, draft-proof, but unheated shelters in which to sleep and where they could escape very bad weather.

My own experience has proved to me that wire coated terriers are worlds better off for being out every day and night in the year. Even in the severest weather they do not need artificial heat, if they have a perfectly dry, draftless, well bedded place to sleep in and to serve as a shelter on very wet, stormy days. A decent kennel for any dog from a St. Bernard to a Pomeranian is dry and draft-proof, and so the terrier owner can eliminate the question of artificial heating.

The man who lives in the city should try to keep his dog out in the yard as much as possible, and, if at all feasible, let him sleep there. Dogs have an inborn instinct to "bay the moon" and terriers are supposed to be great talkers. Moreover, city backyards, since the days when town residences were hollow stone piles lined with hides to keep the wind out, have always been a favorite rendezvous for Thomas Catt, Esq., and Mistress Tabby, meetings just as hard on the nerves of a self respecting terrier as they are on those of his sleepy master. The trouble is that, while master becomes a public benefactor by hurling his shaving mug out the window, the efforts of his dog to drive away the disturbers are regarded by the unsympathetic neighbors as quite as bad as the feline serenades and battle cries. No dog will bark at night if he is in a dark, quiet place, and the terrier in the backyard will sleep like a baby if he is shut up in a box covered with burlap.

The ideal terrier kennel is an oil barrel. These cannot always be obtained, but any barrel or keg intended to hold liquids, and so made water tight, will answer. A hole, just large enough to let the dog in and out, should be cut in one end. Then the inside may be painted with kerosene and a lighted paper dropped in. This cleans the barrel and destroys any insects, and is an excellent thing to do every month or so.

The barrel ought to be painted inside and out, and to keep it from rotting on the bottom must be mounted on blocks so that it just clears the ground. Rain can be kept out of the door either by tacking a curtain of sacking over it (a dog soon learns to go through this and it can be hung up in good weather) or by making a roof of V shaped planking, which sets over the barrel, projecting in front like the eaves of a barn. Two small terriers or one Airedale can live easily in these keg kennels in summer, with an extra dog added, for warmth's sake, in cold weather.

Another kennel that is fine for terriers is one I adapted from the suggestions of a chicken owner, who used a similar box as a coop for hens with young chicks. It is a box that can be taken all apart. The floor is a raised platform against which the sides fit closely, being fastened together with hooks. The roof slants backward and is held in place by thin strips that fit just inside the walls.

This is fine for summer, but must be very carefully made to be tight enough for cold weather. Its flat floor makes it admirable for a bitch with puppies and it has the great advantage of enabling you to leave off any side you wish. Naturally, they are very easy to clean. They can be made any size or shape you wish and cost from five dollars up.

For the man who is going into a large kennel little can be said that will be broadly useful. One wants to build a model kennel of hard wood and concrete, while the next has an old chicken house to adapt to doggy uses; naturally requirements and conditions are very different.

The first thing that any kennel builder wants to see to is that he has good natural drainage and that his runs are on quickly drying ground, gravel rather than clay. Southern exposures are the favorites, and it is better to have two or three smaller buildings rather than to house all the dogs in one. In this way there is opportunity to give each building a rest once in a while, and this should be done in the case of the individual runs and pens, if not for the whole building.

Good hard wood, varnished and kept clean and well drained, is the most popular floor for kennels. Concrete is cold in winter, asphalt is far from desirable in summer, and both are hard on a dog's feet. Dirt, gravel, and ashes are very hard to clean. Cork is expensive and rots out with amazing speed.

The sleeping benches ought to be about two feet off the floor and so arranged that they can be taken down, cleaned, and set out in the sun to dry. Plenty of elbow grease, backed up with a good strong disinfectant and fresh air and sunlight, these are the secrets of a successful kennel. Cleanliness means that disease and parasites will be unknown.

Wheat or rye straw or wood shavings make the best bedding. The straw costs more than hay, but it is ten times as cleanly, lasts twice as long, and is much better for a dog's skin. Very often shavings will be given away for the carting of them, and they make a fine summer bedding, though they are not very warm for winter. Shavings, especially pine shavings, make a very poor home for fleas. Excelsior is not popular. It has a distressing habit of wadding up in hard bunches in corners, absorbs moisture, and does not dry out easily. Moss and sea weed and such beddings are dirty and hard to handle.

Food is an important item in the care of the dog. Table scraps make, in my opinion, the ideal food for a dog. In this the house pet has the advantage over his friend of the kennels, for he gets a wide variety of well cooked and nourishing food, and variety, cooking, and nourishment are the foundation of good feeding.

Dog biscuits, which are so cheap and easy to handle, are excellent in their way, but one should resist the temptation to feed them all the time. You would not like to live on beefsteak three times a day, week in and week out. Dry bread can be bought by the barrel from most bakers and is at once inexpensive and nourishing. Shredded wheat and cracker scraps can also be gotten and are useful for a change. All of these should be fed soaked in some soup.

In the winter I have found corn meal very acceptable, but the moment hot weather comes along its use should be discontinued, or skin troubles will surely result. It can either be made in a mush with milk or water, or baked into corn bread cakes.

I use a homemade dog biscuit from corn meal and meat in the following way. The meat stock is boiled over night in a kettle and the unstrained soup is used instead of water with the meal in making dough, which is put in pans of two or three inches in thickness and baked in a slow oven till hard all the way through. This will take a day. These cakes are rich and should not be fed too often, but they can be kept a month, and I never saw a terrier that did not relish them. In summer, fish boiled twenty-four hours, till the bones are all soft, makes a nice change from the meat soups of the winter.

There are many who might be called canine vegetarians, but experimenting has convinced me that meat is the best and most natural food for the dog. Sirloin does cost a lot of money these days, but hearts, lungs, heads, odds and ends of ribs, and shank bones do not cost so much, and you can always make arrangements with a butcher to save you these. Under no circumstances feed meat that is decayed. It does not have to be as fresh as you demand for your own table, if you take care to cook it thoroughly, but meat that is mouldy or rotting is poison, not food.

Most kennels feed twice a day,—a light lunch in the morning and the regular day's feed in the evening. The morning bite can be bread or biscuits with a little soup over them. The evening meal ought to be all that the dog will comfortably eat without stuffing. If any food is left in the dishes it should be cleaned away before night, and a dog who is "off his feed" should have attention.

Dogs vary as much as people in the amount they will eat. One gobbler is always thin, while a dainty eater will put on more flesh than necessary. It is the height of foolishness to pamper a dog's taste and make him an epicure, but neither is it wise to treat them all just alike.

Exercise naturally follows feeding in our consideration of the health of the dog. Exercise, and plenty of it, is the best tonic, it keeps the muscles hard and the stomach in shape; it prevents fatness, and is just play for a dog.

There is, however, exercise and exercise. To walk a dog along on a lead is exercise, but three minutes' free running is worth half an hour of "taking the dog out for a walk" after the manner of the young lady who lives in the city. Each kennel should have an exercising yard, a lot as big as possible, where the dogs can be turned out for a romp. One wants to be a little careful about leaving a lot of dogs turned out together, for their likes and dislikes are as strong as our own.

I remember with sorrow an experience of this kind. A recently purchased dog was added to a run full of home bred youngsters, and because he was older and bigger he played the bully till one bright morning three of his victims combined forces and gave him a lesson in manners. It was a lesson for his owner too, for the dog's ear was so chewed that he was ruined for showing.

The last item in the care of the dog is grooming, but it is at least as important as any of the others we have taken up. Most dogs are washed too often and not brushed often enough. Washing once in two weeks in summer and once a month in winter is all that is needed to keep a terrier clean, but he should be brushed daily.

In washing a dog start at the head with a good disinfectant soap and work backwards and downwards, for fleas make for the head when threatened with drowning and only in this way can these pests be gotten rid of. It is well to let the soap stay in the coat a few minutes, but it must be all washed out very carefully before drying the dog.

The daily grooming should consist first of a combing with a fairly fine comb to clean out matted dirt and hair. This should be followed by a sharp brushing with what is called in stable a dandy brush. The finishing touches will be a rub down with a hound glove, such as is sold in the kennel supply stores. Such treatment will keep a terrier in almost perfect show form all the time and the stimulation of the skin will be found to act as a regular tonic.

Housed in clean, draftless kennels; given good food with lots of exercise, and with some little attention bestowed on his toilet, a terrier is sure to be healthy and happy. Prevention is proverbially better than cure, and the little work of keeping a terrier well is nothing compared to the care of a sick dog. Dogs do not make very pleasant patients, and there is the added difficulty in finding out just what really ails them, for even the most intelligent of our animals cannot tell us where his aches are and how a dose of certain medicine affects him.

  CHAPTER IV

BREEDING TERRIERS

The principles upon which Darwin based his theory of evolution—which are now accepted by scientists the world over as biological laws—are the very same as those under which the dog breeder works. Modern animal breeding is evolution in which man plays Dame Nature's part.

Breeding is, however, far from being an exact science, though it is continually becoming more and more scientific in its methods. We cannot sit down, a pencil in our fingers and paper before us, and with the aid of the stud book and a set of mathematical formulas figure out a dog that will surely be a champion. We can, however, with a knowledge of the scientific data that biologists have collected in their research work supplementing the lore and traditions of the kennels, come nearer and nearer to the breeder's ideal of "a champion in every litter."

It is quite obvious that with such plastic materials to work with we can never hope to have a perfectly uniform product, but who would have it so? Dog breeding is now more uncertain than roulette, twice as fascinating as the stock market, as interestingly exciting as auction bridge. Make it a matter of mathematically exact rules working out as invariably and regularly as a machine, and the charm has vanished.

The three principles of Darwin's idea of how and why evolution acts, are heredity, variation, and selection. The law of heredity says that like will produce like; that two Airedales will have Airedale puppies; two Scotties will have Scotties; two Irish terriers will have Irish terriers. The law of variation says that no two dogs, even if they be of the same litter, will ever be exactly alike even in the smallest details. No two St. Bernards were ever alike, nor were the smallest teeth of the two smallest Pomeranians ever identical. There is ample evidence to show that the chemical composition of the muscles, bones, and blood of different animals of the same species are different, and even vary considerably in one individual at different times. The law of selection is the law of the struggle for existence, the survival of the fittest. The three laws together make up the theory of evolution by means of natural selection.

What man does in breeding is the making and improving of species by artificial selection. He takes advantage of the law of heredity to establish breeds. If like always exactly reproduced like, however, that is as far as he could ever get, but because there is infinite variation, the offspring differ from their parents. By selecting those that come nearest his ideal, the breeder does just the same as Dame Nature when she kills off the unfit.

Since earliest times, man, more or less without thought or any knowledge of the whys and wherefores, has been carrying on scientific breeding in an unscientific way. Ever since he has kept domestic animals, his selection, formerly more or less unconscious, has been exerting its powerful force. For generations, the dog fanciers have been doing this: picking out the dogs and bitches most to their liking and mating them. The result is that while all breeds of dogs are closely enough related to inter-breed, still some are of comparative age and most breed wonderfully true to type.

Until quite recently, the dog breeders have been following the old, unscientific method, with some additional effort to correct faulty points in their dogs. That is, they have picked out individuals for breeding stock that came as near as possible to their ideals, and if the prospective mother was bad in head they selected a stud dog strong in this point; while a very good coated matron might be mated to a poor coated dog provided he possessed marked excellencies in other directions.

Unfortunately, but very scant attention was paid to the dams. This was largely from economical considerations, which led them to believing, or thinking they did merely because they wanted to, that "any old bitch with a pedigree was good enough to breed from." To bolster up their economy, they said that the pups inherited their looks from their sire and their dispositions from their dam.

Two changes have taken place in the past decade. Breeders now know that physically as well as mentally the dam is quite as important as the sire. Moreover, they have learned that individual characteristics, however marked they may appear to be, do not have the force of family traits. In other words, a short, thick headed bitch bred to the longest headed dog alive would have short headed pups, if that dog had short headed parents and grandparents. These two fundamental bits of knowledge, learned originally from the biologists, have had a big effect on breeding operations.

A logical outgrowth of the importance that has been placed on family, with the naturally lessened emphasis on the individual, has been an increased number of the devotees of line rather than in-breeding. In-breeding is beyond all doubt the strongest weapon the dog breeder has, but it is a boomerang that is very apt to come back and knock its thrower in the head. In-breeding is the breeding together of the blood of one dog—mother to son, or brother to sister. Line-breeding is the breeding together of dogs of the same general strain, comparable to second or third cousins among people.

These breeding experiments fix the good and bad points of a dog or a strain very strongly. Carried to an extreme, they result in bad constitutions, lack of gameness, and in extreme cases, in actual deformity. Such breeding demands that only the strongest and youngest dogs be mated.

In selecting a sire, one should pick out a dog of recognized breeding, whose ancestors were dogs of the type you desire. A winner and a son of winners has better chances of being a sire of winners than an unknown dog of doubtful family, but it is not always wise to rush to the latest champion. A popular bench hero is apt to be over-worked at stud. If your bitch is very young send her to an older dog and vice versa. Best results are not obtained if the dogs are over eight years old—that is a very good age limit at which to retire them from active service. A bitch may be bred at her first "heat," if she is not too young and is strong and healthy.

Most people know that a bitch comes in season, or is "in heat," fairly regularly at six months intervals, and that this is the only time when she will have any sexual connections with a dog. The terriers generally come into their first heat when eight or nine months old and are remarkable for the regularity of their periods. The first sign is a swelling of the external parts and bleeding. After a week or ten days the bleeding is followed by a thickish, white discharge. This is the time to breed her.

One service is all that is necessary—the old timers to the contrary notwithstanding. Two services were formerly given, but this is no longer done by the best breeders. The time of gestation is only sixty-three days, and the second service, two days after the first, has been suspected of destroying the effect of the former. Statistics show that there are fewer misses and just as many puppies when there is but one service, as when there are two.

The single service is obviously a great saving of the energies of the stud dog, who, if he be popular, has to make heavy demands on his vitality. One who places a dog at public stud assumes certain responsibilities,—the keeping of his dog in perfect health and attending most carefully to visiting matrons. The stud dog should have lots of exercise, all the water he wants, and an abundance of good food. Raw lean meat, chopped fine or run through a mechanical grinder, makes a fine supplementary diet, and raw eggs and a little sherry can be added to this if he becomes at all run down.

Visiting bitches must be guarded against all possible chance of a misalliance. If practical, they should be kept far off from the other kennel inmates, for quiet is something to be greatly desired for them. When they arrive, they should be given a run and drink, but do not feed them till they have quieted down a little from the excitement of the trip. The Golden Rule covers the care of these visitors like a blanket—just treat them as you would have a bitch of your own treated under the same circumstances.

When a bitch has returned to her home kennels, she should take the rest cure a day or so. After that for a month or six weeks she need be treated no differently from any of her kennel mates, save to see that she has plenty to eat and that her stomach and bowels are in perfect order.

When she begins to show signs of heavy whelp take her away from the others, and while her exercise wants to be kept up by long walks she should not be allowed to run or romp, or she may miscarry. Her box should be fixed a few days before the pups are to be born. Let it be large enough for her to stretch out in, but not big enough to give her room in which to move about, or she may kill or injure the pups by treading on them.

Once in a while one has a bitch who neglects her pups disgracefully, but the usual thing, in terriers at least, is over attention to the sacrifice of her own condition. A few bitches eat their newborn pups. Fear is the motive, but once done they seem to get the habit. Feeding quantities of raw meat just before they are to whelp is the best, but not a sure cure. Bad mothers, ones who walk on their babies, neglect them, or turn cannibal, are very rare among the terriers.

To return to the box: it should, as I have said, be just large enough to be comfortable. The best bedding for the whelping time is a bit of old carpet, to be substituted for straw when the family has safely arrived. A little shelf, about three inches from the bottom and two inches wide, tacked round the box will prove to be good puppy life insurance, for it keeps them from being pressed to death against the sides of the nest.

Terriers whelp better if left to themselves. It is the rarest thing for them to have any trouble, and if one will just keep a weather eye open to see that things are really going well, they will continue to go well without interference. The pups should be born inside two hour intervals, and if this limit be passed the mother needs attention. The drugs used, however, are so strong and so poisonous and an operation is so delicate that it is invariably better to call in the veterinarian's skilled aid.

After the puppies are all born the mother should be given a bowl of thin oatmeal gruel and left to herself. She will ordinarily clean up the nest herself, eating the after-births and licking the puppies clean. I have found that after she has cleaned a pup, which she does as soon as it is born, it is advisable to take it from her, wrap it in flannel to keep it warm and dry, and to wash off the navel cord with some mild disinfectant such as listerine, or a very dilute solution of bichloride of mercury or carbolic acid. Cold is fatal to very young puppies, and the navel cord is the source of a germ infection that kills many in the nest.

The dam, while nursing her family, must have an abundance of food—plenty of soups, gruels, meats, and milk, but not many vegetables, for they are full of water and waste. She needs more concentrated nourishment. When you think that you can fairly "see puppies grow," you can appreciate how great a drain there is on the mother. Because of this, it is never advisable to let a terrier attempt to raise more than five at the outside, and four is really better than five. If a foster cannot be obtained—very often the local pound will have a healthy mongrel which they will let you have for the license fee—it is kindness and economy to kill off the puppies in excess of four or five.

What ones to destroy is a delicate question. It is usually safe to discard the last one born, who is so often the runt of the family that he is known to kennel men and veterinarians as the "wreckling." It takes a very experienced eye to tell much about the points of a new born puppy, but two salient features to be remembered are that not once in a hundred times will a light eye get darker and any tendency to big ears is comparatively easy to spot and invariably gets worse. A good safe rule in terrier puppies is to save the ones with the longest, flattest heads, the heaviest, straightest fore legs, dark eyes, small ears, short bodies, taking these points in the order named, but discarding any pup who is glaringly off in any of these details.

The mother will wean the pups herself when they begin to grow their teeth, and it is best to leave this to nature. When their eyes are opened they should be taught to drink for themselves by sticking their noses in a saucer of sweetened milk. About the time they are fully weaned they should be treated for worms. After this first worming, they should have similar treatment every six weeks till they are six months old, and twice more after that before they are out of the puppy class. All dogs should be treated for worms twice a year as long as they live.

It is the style, or custom, or what you will, to cut the tails of Airedales, Irish, Welsh, and fox terrier puppies. This ought to be done when they are three or four days old. Three vertebrae are left, that is, the tail is cut at the third "knuckle," not counting the first one at the root of the tail. Rumor says that the operation is done with the kennelman's or groom's teeth, but in reality a dull pair of scissors is the usual and best instrument. The skin should be pulled back toward the body, so that there will be a little extra to cover the end, and not leave it bare of hair.

Growing pups need three things—food, room, and sunlight. When first weaned, they should be fed milk, gruels, and soups five times a day and the number of meals gradually lessened and the amount of solid food gradually increased till at a year old they are fed the same as their older kennel companions. The more room puppies have, the better they are. This is probably the reason that puppies farmed out always do so much better than those kennel raised. They may get all sorts of food and they certainly do not get the attention given the ones in the kennels, but a farm raised youngster is always healthier, bigger, and stronger.

Sunlight acts on puppies as it does on growing plants. Winter pups are proverbially more troublesome than those born in the spring. Most fanciers, therefore, see to it that their brood bitches whelp only in the spring. One litter a year is enough to ask of any terrier.

In conclusion, a word to the small kennel owner. He is apt to think things are unfairly distributed and that he has not the chance either in the show ring, the field, or the breeding kennel that the large owner has. In the latter two, and especially in the breeding kennel, he really has an advantage. It is well known that the greatest number of good dogs are bred by owners of from one to five bitches, for they study their needs more carefully and can give the puppies better attention. Let the small breeder but study his breed; know its past great dogs; understand the meaning of pedigrees; mate his bitches according to his knowledge; rear his puppies carefully, and he will find that he will turn out better home breds than ever come from the big kennels.

  CHAPTER V

DOG SHOWS AND SHOWING

The Britisher's inborn love of sport, dogs, and breeding invented the dog show, but not so very long ago, for even in England bench shows, as a recognized institution, are only a little over half a century old. Their fame and popularity have, however, circled the globe.

The English fancier can truly boast that there are more thoroughbred dogs to the mile in Great Britain than to fifty miles in any other country, and one is not surprised to find that there are more bench shows held there in a week than in a month in the United States. We, on this side of the ocean, are their nearest rival, for while European countries have taken up the dog and his showing, still they are as much behind us as we are behind "the tight little isle."

Continental fanciers have a great deal to learn about dogs, and from their very dispositions it is doubtful if, with the possible exception of the serious, hard-working, painstaking Germans, they will ever become truly doggy. In the first place, they count their pennies very carefully when buying a dog; and in the second place, they are not really fanciers at heart, but have merely taken up dogs as a fashionable whim.

The first American shows were run in a haphazard, friendly, go-as-you-please way, but it very soon became evident that some governing body was as much a necessity in dogdom as on the race track, in college athletics, or among yachtsmen. Accordingly, the American Kennel Club grew up naturally to fill this place. In form the A.K.C., as it is called, is a congress. Its members are not individuals, but clubs, which are represented by regularly elected delegates at the meetings of the parent organization. These clubs are of two types, the local clubs, composed of the fanciers of a certain city or district, and the specialty clubs, whose members are the fanciers the country over devoted to one particular breed.

The local clubs, like the Westminster Kennel Club of New York City or the Philadelphia Dog Show Association, are organized primarily for the giving of bench shows. The specialty clubs, of which the Scottish Terrier Club of America and the Airedale Terrier Club of New England are examples, are devoted primarily to fostering the interests of their breed, which they do by offering special prizes, seeing that competent judges officiate, and even by holding shows where only dogs of their breed are exhibited.

All shows, whether given by local or specialty associations, are held under A.K.C. rules, and the regulation of these shows is the main work done at the club's offices at 1 Liberty Street, New York. The A.K.C., however, does more than this. It publishes the dog Stud Book, a volume annually, and also a semi-monthly, official journal, the A.K.C. Gazette. Moreover, the club is judicial as well as legislative and executive in its functions, and tries the offenders of the kennel world. Last, but not least, it has jurisdiction over field trials, both for bird dogs and hounds.

The A.K.C. recognizes seventy-seven distinct breeds as thoroughbred dogs—not counting several subdivision of breeds into varieties based on coats or colors. Any dog of any of these recognized breeds may be entered in the Stud Book, provided it has three generations of known, pure-blood pedigree. The registration fee is one dollar and includes the assigning of an official number to the dog, entry in the Stud Book for that year, a certificate of his registration, and the right, throughout the life of the dog, to show him, regardless of ownership, at any A.K.C. show. Unregistered dogs have to be "listed" for each show they attend, and a fee of twenty-five cents is always charged.

The usual classes at a bench show are the puppy, novice, limit, open, and winners', and in the more popular breeds these are divided by sex. The puppy class is for any dog between the ages of six months and one year, but, of course, none can be entered whose date of birth, sire, dam, place of birth, and breeder are unknown. The novice class is for dogs bred in the United States who have never won a first prize, wins in the puppy class being excepted. The limit class is for dogs who have not won six first prizes in that class, but dogs who have won their championship are barred. Any dog, who is over six months of age, may be shown in the open class.

If three of the above classes are given at a show, a winners' class is added. There is no entry fee for this class, but in it the winners of the other classes meet and are judged. At different shows various other classes are sometimes given, as a junior class for dogs between six and eighteen months, a class for champions, and many divisions are made according to weight and color in different breeds.

It is by wins in the winners' class that a dog secures the right to prefix to his name the honorable and much-coveted title of "Champion." To win this, the dog must get fifteen points. Every win in the winners' class counts a certain number of points according to the number of dogs actually on the bench at the show: 1000 dogs or over, five points; 750 dogs or over, four points; 500 dogs or over, three points; 250 dogs or over, two points; under 250 dogs, one point. Specialty shows devoted to one breed count five points. Fifteen of these points, provided three of them have been won at one show and at least three different judges have awarded the dog first in the winners' class, make a dog a champion. The A.K.C. gives a championship certificate to the owner, who can also buy a championship medal for three dollars, if his dog is registered.

Novices are cautioned to read most carefully the rules published in the premium lists of all A.K.C. dog shows before they fill out their entry blanks and to exercise great care in doing this, for mistakes are on their own heads. Their dog may be disqualified and his wins canceled should they fail to fill in the necessary particulars correctly. In case of any attempt at fraud, they will be themselves disqualified, which is a doggy ex-communication. Disqualified persons are not only barred from judging, showing, or registering, but dogs owned or bred by them during their term of disqualification cannot be shown or registered.

No dog that is lame (except temporarily), blind, castrated, spayed, deaf, dyed, or in any way "faked" can be shown, and all entries are examined by a registered veterinarian when they first come to the show. They must be passed by him, as sound and free from contagious disease, before they will be accepted. Every dog must be the bona fide property of the exhibitor. These, and the other rules, are simple, founded on common justice and reason, and easy to understand. They are all such that intent to deceive can be the only reason for their neglect or misunderstanding.

To show a dog at his best, in the very pink of perfect condition, is the only way to insure that he will be placed by the judge where he deserves. Many a dog, really better than his rival in the ring, has gone down because of condition, and defeat is not only unpleasant, but also a great handicap to a show dog. Perfect health, no fat, well-developed muscles—these are the foundation of a terrier's "fitness."

A little change in diet or exercise is the best and the easiest way to accomplish this physical perfection. Tonics and pills and powders, conditioners, as they are called, are not all they are cracked up to be. It is like doping a race-horse or a pugilist. It works for a time, but the end is inevitable and always the same.

A terrier is easy to get "fit," and the only thing that may cause the exhibitor loss of sleep is the condition of the wire coat. Wire coats are—there is no use fishing about for any excuse—wire coats are a bother. A great, big three-quarters of the trouble is overcome, however, if the dog has been carefully and regularly groomed. Such a dog does not need much trimming,—mainly a little cleaning up about the head and legs. On the other hand, one who has been neglected needs the services of a skilled canine tonsorial artist to put him down before the judge with a coat that meets the requirements of the ring.

The A.K.C. lets one pluck and pull with his fingers, and brush and comb away as much as he wishes, but the use of knives, razors, scissors, or clippers is strictly tabooed. It is too bad that the trimming of wire terriers is carried so far as is the style to-day, for, even if legalized by the A.K.C, it so alters a dog and so improves a bad coat that it savors pretty strongly of faking. There is, however, little chance of there being any immediate reform, and to show successfully one must obey the dictates of Mistress Fashion.

A dog in perfect condition, with his coat trimmed in the approved style, may yet fail to get his deserts in the show ring, if not properly handled. The professional handlers are past masters at the art of making a dog appear at his very best in the ring, and a great deal of their success is due to this skill. The cry of the partiality of judges to professionally shown dogs has been often heard, but it is not so serious to one who will watch a class actually being shown on the sawdust. The humorousness of the man who can realize the better showing of the dogs handled by the paid professionals in every ring but his own appeals to a close and impartial observer.

The novice cannot do better than to steal a leaf out of the book of the professional handlers, and by a careful study of their methods, learn to show his own dogs so that they will always be at their best, making their strongest points apparent and hiding their weaknesses, and religiously seeing to it that he catches the judicial eye.

It is well to take a puppy destined for a show career and to teach him to show. It is just as easy to teach him to stand firm on his pins, all alert, full of fire, yet not bobbing about like a jumping-jack, as it is to have him sit up and beg or to "play dead." To a "public dog" it is an innately more useful accomplishment.

A little bit of boiled liver, the sweetest tit-bit on a dog's menu, is an excellent thing to carry into the ring with you, but it is a grave mistake to be forever teasing and nagging at your entry. Leave him alone as much as possible. Do not wear out his spirits and your own patience, but just see that he is kept awake, standing firm so as to show his front to advantage, and so placed that the judge looks at him from the most advantageous position. If he has a poor colored eye, keep his tail pointed at the source of the light; if his back is plenty long, do not let the judge see more of his profile than possible, and so on, with different rules for each dog in the world.

Bad manners in the ring are the poorest of poor sportsmanship. Never try to hide another's dog and do not let your dog pick at or worry another entry. The terriers are all inclined to "start things" in the ring anyway, and each exhibitor ought to do his best to prevent the ring from becoming a whirling, barking, tugging bedlam. No judge can do his best under such disconcerting, if exciting, conditions, and he has a hard enough time at best, so exhibitors ought to help him as much as they are able.

Very, very seldom does one meet an exhibitor who will come out frankly and say that he was beaten fairly, even if he has shown a regular "rotter" against an "out-and-outer." It does not cost one single, red cent to congratulate the owner of the dog who has beaten yours. If he has done so fairly, it is but the decent thing to do, and if you think your dog is the better, why you have the consolation of knowing that there is going to be another show where another judge will hand out the ribbons probably the very next week. It is also a mighty nice thing to find a good point or two to mention in the dogs that have been placed behind yours, assuming, of course, that you have not had the fate of being "given the gate."

These little courtesies of the ring are often sadly lacking at our American shows. Fanciers have a world of things in common and, instead of bitterest rivals, they should be the best of friends. Friendly rivalry adds ninety per cent. to the pleasures of being a fancier, and in this a man gets just about what he gives.

In sending a dog to a show, even if the distance be but a mile or two and you are going along, too, it is best to crate him. It costs a little more, but many an unboxed dog has been lost or injured, and the railroads assume absolutely no responsibility in these cases. The express companies do charge a very high rate (one and a half times that charged for merchandise) for very poor service, but they are at least legally responsible for dogs committed to their charge. In England, wicker hampers are very popular for shipping dogs, but here, while lightness is to be sought, they are hardly strong enough to withstand the gentle care of our "baggage heavers."

The shows provide bedding, food, and water, but the fancier supplies his own chains and leads. To fasten a dog on the exhibition bench, bench chains, as they are called, are used. These are either nickel or brass finish, with snaps at both ends, and by means of them a dog can be so fastened that he can move about comfortably and yet not hang himself by getting over the front or get into trouble with his neighbors beyond the partitions.

In the show ring, however, these chains would be too heavy, and it is the custom to show terriers on long leather leads. There are two styles in vogue. One is a regular lead fastened with a snap to an ordinary collar, which should be a half inch strap of plain leather. The other is the slip collar, or a long lead with a loop at one or both ends. The loop is slipped over the dog's head and fastened by a sliding clasp. All leads and collars for terriers should be light and plain. Fancy, studded, bebelled, and beribboned collars look about as well on a terrier as diamonds on a bellboy.

The showing of dogs is rapidly becoming one of our most popular sports. The number of shows increases wonderfully each year, and every season the entries become more and more numerous. Daily, there are recruits enlisting in the army of dog fanciers. There is no denying the potency of the charm woven by the dog show. The confirmed fancier fairly loves the barking roar of the benched dogs; that peculiarly distinctive smell—a strange mixture of dog, disinfectant, and sawdust; the excitement of the ring; the doggy parties at lunches, dinners, and at night after the show is over. It is all different from anything else in the world of sport, this charm of the bench show, and it is sure to hold in a fast grip any dog lover who falls under its sway.

  CHAPTER VI

THE USEFUL AIREDALE

Had there never been a specific need for just such a dog as the Airedale, he would never have existed. He was "manufactured" to meet a distinct want: the need for a big, strong dog, game to the bottom and with a liking for water, who would serve the all-round purpose of pal, guard, poacher, and vermin destroyer. Had the Airedale not filled this bill, he would never have persisted. He would have died out ignominiously, without even winning a local fame.

The Airedale, however, is not only all that his Yorkshire "manufacturers" longed for, but he has shown himself much more. Wider acquaintance with the world has placed him under many different conditions, and he has not very often been weighed and found wanting. He has made his home in all countries from Alaska to India. He has been used for all sorts of game from the grizzly to mice; he has done police duty in France, Germany, and America; he has drawn sleds in the Arctic and driven sheep in Australia—all these things and many others he has done, and in the doing of them he has won a reputation for intelligence, docility, and affectionate disposition that few less talented dogs do not envy. As a writer in the Belgian Breeder, the Brussels journal devoted to horses, dogs, and livestock, has said, he is indeed "le chien le plus utile," which is freely Americanized by the doggy epigram that "an Airedale will do anything any other dog can do and then lick the other dog."

The Airedale is indeed ideally useful, and he is also usefully ideal, for he has size and strength; nobody ever questioned his courage; he is blessed with exceptional brains; and he is obedient, faithful, and affectionate. What more can man ask of a dog? By inheritance he is a thorough sportsman and by instinct a perfect gentleman.

Training, education, and specialization are all familiar terms these days. It is acknowledged that the skilled dwarf is more powerful than the ignorant giant: that the efficiency of the genius is increased many times by proper schooling. So it is with dogs. By nature and by the art of breeding the Airedale has been endowed with gifts fitting him to do whatever a dog may be called upon to do, but proper training will enable him to do it more easily and better.

With a dog of so many talents it is somewhat difficult to decide just the best way in which to take up the different branches of his education, but let us divide his training upon the basis of the Airedale in town and in the country.

I suppose that it is useless to say, for dogs will always be kept in the cities as companions, that a Harlem flat is just about the worst place in the world for an Airedale. Any terrier just cries for room. He is lively as a cricket and as full of spirits as a nut is of kernel—both excellent qualities in any dog outside a flat. The city at best is no place for any dog; no place for terriers of all dogs, and of all terriers, the Airedale! Yet hundreds of dogs live in town, and they serve their purpose. Also, they have a great deal to learn.

House-breaking is the first lesson that has to be taught the city dog. Usually it saves time and money to see that the dog you buy is already so trained, but this cannot always be done. It is a risky business to guarantee a dog house-broken and too much faith must not be placed in any such promises. It often happens that while a dog will always behave perfectly in one house he may have to be trained all over again when introduced into another. This is mainly true of puppies, so you need not consider yourself basely deceived if, in this particular, a youngster does not live strictly up to the word of his seller.

If your dog arrives in a crate, he should be given a run the very first thing after unpacking. The safest way is to bring him into the house on a lead and to keep him tied up short in some convenient place for a couple of days, taking him out regularly at fixed hours. He will soon get into these habits. Should he offend, he ought to be punished at the scene of his crime, taking care that he is aware of his offense and tied up again. A very few days of this treatment will house-break any dog who is old enough to understand what you are driving at. Trying to house-break a very young puppy is cruelty pure and simple.

In punishing a dog, do not beat him about the ears and never use either a fine whip, or a stick. It has happened twice in my knowledge that a dog has had his hearing seriously damaged by a rupturing of the ear drums caused by blows on the head. A whip will cut the skin of a dog and a stick may break a bone. A smart slap under the jaw, accompanied by a word-scolding in a severe tone and uncompromising manner, is a thousand times better. In extreme cases a strap may be used, but always remember that the object is not to flog the dog into cowardly and broken submission, but merely to impress upon him that he is not doing as you wish.

In all cases it is best to punish a dog "red handed," but in no case should you punish him "red headed." Unless the dog knows for what he is being punished, you are like Xerxes whipping the Hellespont for wrecking his ships, except that a dog has more feelings than the sea. The best way to be sure that the dog knows is to catch him in the very act. This has the disadvantage, however, of making it likely that you will be in a temper.

No dog should ever be punished when you have not got perfect control over yourself. The patience of Job was never tried by a healthy, terrier puppy, or it might have reached its limit. A spoiled rug, the flower-beds wrecked, a new hat chewed up, slippers and rubbers all over the house, religious disobedience, all these things do cultivate a temper, but temper and dog-training do not live together successfully.

In training a dog be sure that he knows exactly what you want him to do, and then be sure that he always does it. Make obedience a habit. In time, it will come as natural to him as breathing. When you say "Come here," see that he comes, and let him understand that "Lie down" means just that and nothing more. It is very useful to have a dog that lives in the house "stay put" when placed in a chair or a corner, and this should be part of his education. It is very bad dog manners to jump up on visitors. Even to those who love dogs it is often disagreeably bothersome. It is bad enough in a toy dog, but in an Airedale it is worse in the ratio of five pounds to fifty.

I am not personally in favor of teaching a dog tricks. A trick dog soon learns to "love the limelight," and will be continually begging to be allowed to show off. Besides, I have an inborn dislike to seeing a dog doing stunts, and I know the feeling is shared by others who are fond of a good dog. It seems a silly thing to see a big, strong terrier begging or walking on his hind legs. It may be very clever for poodles and pugs, but with a man's dog—and the terriers are all "man's dogs"—it always calls to my mind a painting in the Louvre in which Hercules is depicted sitting at the feet of Venus industriously winding up a ball of yarn. However, tastes differ, and these tricks are all easy to teach a bright pupil, who has already learned the lesson of minding.

When the city dog goes out for a walk his training gets its real test. What a lovely spectacle it is to see a dog owner rushing and yelling after a dog who runs about paying no more attention to him than to the clouds overhead. It is a sight that has but one equal, that of a portly, pompous gentleman chasing his own hat. Even if a dog is perfectly trained indoors, he may break loose when first taken out on the street, but he can easily be made to understand that master is to be boss on the street as well as in the house. One of the best habits a city dog can have is that of keeping close to his owner's heels crossing streets. A dog is perfectly well able to cross a crowded street, but in busy thoroughfares a dog and his master are apt to get separated, and all may not be so fortunate as the Washington physician who had his champion Airedale returned with a note which read:

"Dere Doc—Here is your Yeller Dog. Will you Please give me 15 cents I hate to ask so much but i had to fead him 2 days."

The Airedale who lives in the country is more fortunate than his brother in town. His preliminary education is just the same, but he gets a college course in hunting, and maybe a little post-graduate work in cattle driving. All that has been said about house-breaking and teaching to mind applies with equal force to the country dog. If there are not so many interested spectators to make it embarrassing it is just as provoking to have a runaway dog in the meadows and pastures as in the streets and avenues. A single motor at sixty or seventy miles an hour on the turnpike is harder for a dog to dodge than the whole flood of traffic that streams up and down the city thoroughfares. So, city or country, teach your dog to mind.

An Airedale will take as naturally to rats, woodchucks, and such vermin as a lot of little yellow ducklings will to the mill pond. But to make assurance doubly sure, it is best to introduce him to mice or small rats when he is four or five months old, then leading on and on till you can end with the biggest game found in America. This is the way terriers are broken in England. It has been found that if a terrier is jumped bang at Mr. Woodchuck, for example, he may be spoiled by biting off more than he can chew the first time.

In the Rockies, where Airedales are used on grizzly and mountain lion, the dogs hunt in packs, and the old dogs train the youngsters. Example and experience make an excellent pair of tutors, and the work is such that unless the lessons are grasped pretty quickly, there will be a dead dog.

The gradual system of breaking applies to water. The veins of the Airedale are filled with the blood of the otter-hound, and from this ancestor he has inherited a love for the water. Practically all Airedales will swim naturally without any training at all, but once in a while there comes along one who does not take to water. He should be coaxed in, not taken by the scruff of the neck and pitched overboard. Methods like that are not generally successful when dogs are concerned.

In hunting and swimming the Airedale is but following the strongest instincts that he has. All one has to do is to curb and direct these instincts. Experience will do the rest, for the dog has brains and is very quick to learn, and the teacher is proverbially a good one. In driving cattle and sheep, however, the dog is going into a new trade, as it were, and not one to which he was born. He proves his versatility by the quickness with which he can learn to be an excellent drover. The easiest way is to take him out with a dog experienced in this work. If this cannot be done, one will have to train him himself, and this is not so difficult as it sounds, but it is best to make sure that the dog has carefully learned that minding trick above mentioned before undertaking this.

Almost any and all dogs are watch-dogs, but the Airedale, because of his size and intelligence, is a particularly good one. It is not the wisest policy to chain up a dog at night, for he will be much more apt to sound false alarms, and in any case of real need he is powerless to give active defense of himself or his friends. The watch-dog ought not to have his big, heavy meal at night, or he will go to sleep and snore peacefully till cock crow, while if fed but lightly, he will rest in a series of cat naps, if a dog can do that.

The Airedale is more practically useful than any other breed of dog. He can do more things better than any other variety. It is this eminent utility of his that has been one of the greatest factors in his success, but he would never have become so widely popular with men, women, and children of all classes had it not been that behind his usefulness there is sterling character and good disposition.

  CHAPTER VII

COMMON AILMENTS

The terrier owner is a "lucky devil," for his dogs do not, as a rule, spend a great deal of time in the hospital. All members of the terrier family, from the giant of the race, the Airedale, way down to little Scottie, owe a big debt to nature for having blessed them with remarkably robust constitutions. They do not catch cold from every draft; they throw off the various contagious diseases; even when really sick, they make wonderfully rapid recoveries.

All dog flesh, however, is heir to certain diseases, and even the most healthy and strong are not exceptions to this rule. Many of the books on doggy subjects are so deep and technical that the poor novice who has waded through their sonorous and involved phrases is really more at sea about how to treat his sick dog than before he took them from the shelf. Other books on dogs, especially the popular ones, are so brief in their descriptions that no amount of study of them can teach much. It is my object to steer between these two extremes and to tell something of the common ailments, so all may understand their causes, symptoms, and treatments.

Two good rules for the amateur veterinarian to learn at the very outset are: In case of any doubt, or if the case is at all serious, time, money, and maybe the dog's life will be saved by calling at once upon a registered D.V.S.; and nine times out of ten a dog's ailments are the same, with the same symptoms and results, as among humans. A dog, therefore, can receive the same treatment as people, for the same medicines act upon him as upon yourself. In the case of the terriers, the dose is one-fourth of that for an adult human. To use more commonsense than medicine is another good rule to use, for nursing and a little attention to diet often effect a cure without any drugs at all.

Remembering that the same treatment that you would give yourself cures your dogs makes it unnecessary to go into such ailments as cuts, burns, colds, stomach disorders, and poisons. There are, however, some distinctively canine ailments. For convenience let us take these up alphabetically.

Canker of the ear is not by any means so common in terriers as in the long-eared breeds, but it sometimes affects dogs who go a great deal in the water, though it may be caused by any foreign substance getting into the ear. There are two forms—the external and the internal. The external shows itself by sores on the ear flaps, which are most painful and cause the dog to scratch and paw at his ear. The sores ought to be cleaned thoroughly with hot water and dressed with zinc ointment daily. In bad cases the head may be bandaged to prevent aggravation of the ulcers by scratching.

The internal form is harder to cure. Its symptoms are hot, inflamed ears, pain, pawing, and rubbing the head against the floor or walls. The interior of the ear should be douched out with warm water and boracic acid or witch hazel, and then syringed with a solution of one part of spirits of wine and twenty parts of water. Afterwards the ear should be carefully dried out with cotton on the end of a pencil—care must be taken not to injure the interior of the ear—and finally dusted with boracic acid.

Chorea, or, as it is sometimes called, St. Vitus's Dance, is generally a legacy of distemper. It is a peculiar nervous twitching, generally affecting the forelegs and shoulders. It is almost incurable, but good food, exercise, and a tonic may work wonders.

Cramps in the hindquarters may sometimes attack a dog who goes a great deal into the water and they are not unknown as a result of cold and damp kennels or great exposure to cold. The symptoms are a more or less complete paralysis of the hindlegs, accompanied by great pain. The dog should be given a hot bath and the affected parts, after a careful drying, should be rubbed well with chloroform liniment.

Diarrhoea, which may be caused by food or worms, can usually be stopped by a mild purge of half castor oil and half syrup of buckthorn, which may be followed by a dose of prepared chalk. Boiled rice is an excellent food for dogs suffering from disordered bowels.

Distemper is the bane of the dog owner's existence. It is a highly contagious disease generally attacking puppies, and is comparable to scarlet fever in that one attack successfully gone through usually means immunity. It was formerly thought that distemper could arise spontaneously from improper feeding or unsanitary kenneling, but the germ of the disease has been isolated, and while poor food and dirty kennels increase the chances of the disease by lowering the dog's resistance, they are not in themselves causes.

The distemper germ is possessed of remarkable vitality and may be transferred either directly from dog to dog or through the medium of crates, bedding, clothing, and even the air. Shows are a source of spreading the disease, though there is much less danger of this now than formerly for the veterinary inspection and proper disinfecting methods have improved conditions wonderfully. A bitch from an infected kennel may give distemper to the inmates of the kennels she visits for breeding purposes. Plenty of soap and water, disinfectant, and elbow grease make a distemper prevention that is much better than any cure.

The discovery of the distemper germ has naturally resulted in the making of an anti-toxin, by attenuating the virus till a weakened form is obtained. Using this to inoculate a well dog, a mild form of the disease attacks him, but this "vaccination" has not proved unqualifiedly successful, especially when used by amateurs.

The commonest form of distemper is catarrhal, with symptoms much like those of an ordinary cold, lack of appetite, fever, disordered bowels, vomiting, staring coat, rapid loss of flesh, and discharges from the nose and eyes. The distemper germ, however, may attack other organs than the nose and eyes. The lungs and bronchial tubes and the stomach and intestines are also seats of the trouble. These forms are harder to diagnose and harder to cure. The presence of dysentery and sometimes of jaundice are indications that the digestive tract is involved.

I know of no sure cure for distemper, and I never knew a dog owner who did, though, to be sure, they all have their favorite remedies. There are no end of patent specifics on the market, and some of these are very good, but the best thing for a tyro to do is to call a veterinarian. Leave the doctoring to him, at least till you have had the experience gained by a couple of good cases of distemper in your kennels. There will be plenty for you to do without bother about prescribing.

The dog with distemper must be isolated, and you must take the precautions that you would if there were smallpox in the neighborhood. Wash with disinfectants, burn sulphur candles, scrupulously destroy all bedding—use all the knowledge of antiseptic disinfecting that you have.

As for the patient, you will find that nursing is just as important as medicine—in fact, the more I have to do with the disease, the less medicine I administer and the more care I give to nursing. Keep up the dog's strength with almost any sick room food that he will eat. Raw meat, eggs, gruels, soups, milk, all these are good, and the dog should be fed often. The discharges from the nose and eyes should be wiped away regularly.

If the nose becomes very badly stopped up, so that breathing is difficult, the dog's head may be held over a pail of hot water in which a little turpentine has been dropped and he made to inhale the fumes. If the throat and bronchial tubes are affected, give a little cough syrup—any one will do, but be careful not to give enough to upset the stomach. See that the dog has plenty of water to drink and keep him out of all drafts, though the room must be well ventilated.

Fits seem to be a part of the life of most puppies. They are not dangerous and usually pass off without bad effects. But fits are a symptom, and the cause should be removed. They may be caused by worms, stomach troubles, or heat. Keep the dog quiet and give him a dose of castor oil and buckthorn.

Insects of several kinds take pleasure in seeing to it that neither the dog or his owner gets lazy. The commonest and the easiest to get rid of are fleas, but they are dangerous as being the cause of tapeworm, for the tapeworm of the dog spends part of his life (in the larva form) in the fleas. There are any number of good flea soaps on the market and a dozen good flea powders, so little need be said about ridding the dog of these pests.

Lice are harder to get rid of, but the dog can be freed of them in the same way as of fleas. Care should be taken to get rid of as many of the lice eggs, little black specks that stick to the hair, as possible. Ticks are the least common, but because of their habit of burrowing into the skin cannot be washed out. The best way is to give the dog a good rubbing in a dressing composed of olive and kerosene oils, equal parts of each, followed by a bath.

Kennel Lameness, or rheumatism, affects a dog similarly to human beings, there being a soreness of certain parts—usually the foreshoulders or back—and pain, with even swelling of the joints. The dog should be kept in a light, dry, well-ventilated place, his bowels kept open, and the food given light, but nourishing. A little sodium bicarbonate or sodium salicylate added to his drinking water will be found to be beneficial, and hot baths and rubbings with liniments eases the pain considerably.

Skin diseases are among the common troubles of the dog owner, for there are three varieties. The wire terriers seem to suffer a good deal from eczema,—this is especially true of Scotties,—and their owner is sure to know it before he has been in the game very long. It is a skin disease, noncontagious, arising from the blood and showing itself in red eruptions which burst, oozing their contents and forming scabs. The hair comes off, and by scratching the dog aggravates the condition.

High feeding and too little exercise are the usual cause of the trouble, and the root of the matter must be gotten at before a cure can be effected. A good purge should be given and the dog put on a light, simple diet. The sores should be washed clean and then treated with a wash of four parts of sugar of lead and one part of zinc sulphate in water. Fowler's Solution is also given sometimes, but this is a poison and ought not to be administered save on a veterinarian's advice.

There are two forms of mange—sarcoptic and follicular, both highly infectious, and the latter so hard to cure that many dog owners would almost rather kill a dog than go through the siege with the constant danger of inoculating other dogs. The sarcoptic form is more on the surface and attacks dogs under the legs, which become red and inflamed, little reddish pimples forming, which break and form dark red scabs. The follicular mange usually starts on the back near the tail or over the collar. The hair falls out, red scabs form and there is a peculiar odor. It is difficult to tell just which form one is dealing with after the case has gone far, but at the outset it is comparatively easy.

Both of these manges are caused by parasites which live in the skin. The microscope reveals these, and this is the only way that one, at the outset, can be sure he is dealing with mange and not eczema. The dog should be thoroughly cleaned and then dressed with the following ointment: creosote ½ oz.; oil of cade 1 oz.; zinc ointment and lanoline each 3 ozs.; and sulphur ½ oz. This is not a pretty or a nice mixture, but it has done the work more than once for me. The main thing with mange is cleanliness and keeping everlastingly at it. Skipping a day in the treatment will add a week to the cure. Sarcoptic mange caught in time can be cured in two weeks. Follicular mange may take three months, or even longer, to be cured completely.

Worms are almost sure to be found in all dogs not regularly treated for them, and they are the cause of a good deal of trouble. Puppies are favorite victims for these internal parasites and youngsters who serve as hosts for these undesirable visitors never do well. Worms come from fleas, sheep and cattle stomachs and intestines, and sheep heads. Three varieties are common—the round, thread, and the tape, the last the most dangerous.

Puppies should be given a good vermifuge when weaned and the treatment should be kept up all through the dog's life. Emaciation, vomiting, bloating of the stomach, bad breath, and dragging the rectum along the ground after stool are the usual evidences of worms, but the wise dog owner does not wait for such signs. There are several good vermifuges on the market, usually containing santonin, male fern, or acerca nut, but naturally I do not feel that this is the place to mention them by name. Almost any of them will do the work if the manufacturer's directions are followed.

In conclusion, a word or two about giving medicines. The best way to hold a terrier is to sit in a low chair and place him so that his body is under you and his shoulders between your knees. To give a pill you do not need help for so small a dog, but by putting your left hand over his mouth and pressing you force him to open his mouth by forcing his lips against his teeth. Lift up his head and put the pill as far back as you can on his tongue and hold his mouth closed till he has swallowed.

With liquids you will need an assistant to pour the medicine into the natural funnel you make of the dog's mouth by pulling his lips on one side out. In this you do not open the mouth but merely hold up the head. The medicine should be poured slowly between the teeth and lips and the mouth held closed till swallowed.

Let me again impress the importance of remembering the similarity of canine and human ills. It is also well to bear in mind that careful nursing is usually very much better than dosing, especially when the dosing is done by one who is not perfectly sure just what he is doing and why he is doing it.