BECKFORD. ST. JOHN. CONDITION. INOCULATION. VACCINATION. CONCLUSION.

556. Reflect on what is said.—557. Not to rest content with bad dogs.—558. Beckford’s opinion of the education that could be given to Dog.—559. Education of the Buck-hound.—560, 561. St. John’s opinion. The old Show-woman’s learned dog.—562. Hunting to be Dog’s principal enjoyment.—563. While young, not to have run of kitchen. To be in kennel; not tied up; chain better than rope.—564. When older, more liberty allowed, but never to “self-hunt;” old Dogs spontaneously take judicious liberties. Easier to teach accomplishments than cure faults. “Self-hunter’s” example most dangerous.—565. Fine range and perseverance attained. Irish red setters.—566. Good condition; exercise on road; attention to feet. In Note, Claws sometimes too long; Claws of Tigress that ran into feet.—567. Diet to be considered; muscle wanted; fat detrimental, except to Water Retrievers. In Note, recipe for waterproofing boots.—568. Indian-corn meal; Mr. Herbert’s opinion of; feed of an evening.—569. Beef-soup brings Mange in hot climates: Mutton better—meat necessary to prevent disgusting habits.—570. Good condition of Nose most material; Kennels.—571. Warmth necessary; Winter pups.—572. Pups inoculated for Distemper.—573 to 575. Vaccinated for Distemper.—576. Blaine and Colonel Cook thought it useless.—577. Old prejudice against Vaccination.—578. Colonel Hawker advocates it.—579. Salt for Distemper.—580. Easy to give medicine.—581. The method.—582. If force is necessary.—583. Castor oil lapped up with milk.—584. Dog not to be lent.—586. In Note, old sportsman’s advice about choosing a Keeper.—588. Education gradual; taught from the A, B, C. In Note, Query, do Keepers find time to break in dogs of strangers, while their masters’ remain unfinished? Advantage of young Dog’s accompanying Keeper when he goes his rounds by day. “Snap” daily visiting the traps for his master.—585 to 589. The Conclusion.

556. We have come to the concluding division (dignified by the name of Chapter) of this little Work; for I have at length nearly finished my prosing about dog-breaking. But reflect upon what I have said. The more you do, the more, I think, you will be of opinion that I have recommended only what is reasonable, and that but little attention beyond the trouble usually bestowed, if directed by good judgment, is required to give a dog the education which I have described.

557. I wish I could animate you with but a quarter of the enthusiasm which I once felt on the subject. I am not desirous of making you dissatisfied with anything that you possess, excepting your dogs, such as, I fear, they most probably are, and that only because, if they are young, a little judicious extra-exertion on your part will add as much to their usefulness as to your own enjoyment. And I do not wish them, or anything you have, or have not, to make you discontented; I only pray you not to be supine. If you can get no more alluring drink than cold water, reflect on its wholesomeness, and enjoy it, if you can, with all the relish of a parched Arab; but I entreat you not to be contented with a disorderly noise-exciting cur, when a trifling addition to your pains will ensure you an obedient, well-trained animal,—one that will procure you twice as many shots as the other. It will, indeed. Believe me, I am not too extravagant in my conception of a perfect dog. You may not consider it worth your while to take the trouble of giving him such an education; but it seems hardly reasonable to say it could not be imparted. Naturally enough you may distrust my judgment, but you cannot doubt the experience of the reflecting, discriminating Beckford; and what does he say on the subject of canine education?

558. “The many learned dogs and learned horses that so frequently appear and astonish the vulgar, sufficiently evince what education is capable of; and it is to education I must attribute the superior excellence of the buckhound, since I have seen high-bred fox-hounds do the same under the same good masters.

559. “Dogs that are constantly with their masters acquire a wonderful degree of penetration, and much may be done through the medium of their affections. I attribute the extraordinary sagacity of the buckhound to the manner in which he is treated. He is the constant companion of his instructor and benefactor—the man whom he was first taught to fear he has since learned to love. Can we wonder that he should be obedient to him? Oft have we viewed with surprise the hounds and deer amusing themselves familiarly together on the same lawn,—living, as it were, in the most friendly intercourse; and with no less surprise have we heard the keeper give the word, when instantly the very nature of the dog seemed changed; roused from his peaceful state, he is urged on with a relentless fury, which only death can satisfy—the death of the very deer he is encouraged to pursue. The business of the day over, see him follow, careless and contented, his master’s steps, to repose on the same lawn where the frightened deer again return, and are again indebted to his courtesy for their wonted pasture. Wonderful proofs of obedience, sagacity, and penetration!”

560. If you have at hand St. John’s “Tour in Sutherlandshire” (he is the author of that most interesting work, “Wild Sports and Natural History of the Highlands”), pray turn to the part in the second volume, where he describes the old show-woman’s learned dog. I would transcribe the whole of the amusing account, were not this little book already swollen to undue proportions—but I must quote the concluding observations, as his opinion respecting the aptitude of dogs for instruction so fully coincides with Beckford’s.

561. “The tricks consisted of the usual routine of adding up figures, spelling short words, and finding the first letter of any town named by one of the company. The last trick was very cleverly done, and puzzled us very much, as we—i.e. the grown-up part of the audience—were most intently watching not him but his mistress, in order to discover what signs she made to guide him in his choice of the cards; but we could not perceive that she moved hand or foot, or made any signal whatever. Indeed, the dog seemed to pay but little regard to her, but to receive his orders direct from any one who gave them. In fact, his teaching must have been perfect, and his intellect wonderful. Now I dare say I shall be laughed at for introducing an anecdote of a learned dog, and told that it was ‘all trick.’ No doubt it was ‘all trick,’ but it was a very clever one, and showed how capable of education dogs are—far more so than we imagine. For here was a dog performing tricks so cleverly that not one out of four or five persons, who were most attentively watching, could find out how he was assisted by his mistress.”

562. In following Beckford’s advice respecting your making, as far as is practicable, your dog your “constant companion,” do not, however, forget that you require him to evince great diligence and perseverance in the field; and, therefore, that his highest enjoyment must consist in being allowed to hunt.

563. Now, it seems to be a principle of nature,—of canine as well as human nature,—to feel, through life, most attachment to that pursuit, whatever it may be, which is most followed in youth. If a dog is permitted as a youngster to have the run of the kitchen, he will be too fond of it when grown up. If he is allowed to amuse himself in every way his fancy dictates, he will think little of the privilege of hunting. Therefore, the hours he cannot pass with you (after you have commenced his education), I am sorry to say it, but I must do so, he ought to be in his kennel—loose in his kennel,[102] not tied up; for straining at his collar would throw out his elbows, and so make him grow up bandy-legged. If, however, he must be fastened, let it be by a chain. He would soon learn to gnaw through a cord, especially if a young puppy, who, from nature, is constantly using his teeth, and thus acquire a trick that some day might prove very inconvenient were no chain at hand. You would greatly consult his comfort by having the chain attached, with a loose ring and swivel, to a spike fixed a few paces in front of his kennel, so that he could take some exercise by trotting round and round.

564. When your dog has attained some age, and hunting has become with him a regular passion, I believe you may give him as much liberty as you please without diminishing his zeal,—but most carefully prevent his ever hunting alone, technically called “self-hunting.” At that advanced time of life, too, a few occasional irregularities in the field may be innocuously permitted. The steadiest dogs will, at times, deviate from the usual routine of their business, sagaciously thinking that such departure from rule must be acceptable if it tends to obtain the game; and it will be advisable to leave an experienced dog to himself whenever he evinces great perseverance in spontaneously following some unusual plan. You may have seen an old fellow, instead of cautiously “roading” and “pointing dead,” rush forward and seize an unfortunate winged bird, while it was making the best use of its legs after the flight of the rest of the covey—some peculiarity in the scent emitted having probably betrayed to the dog’s practised nose that the bird was injured. When your pup arrives at such years of discrimination, you need not so rigorously insist upon a patient “down charge,” should you see a winged cock-pheasant running into cover. Your dog’s habits of discipline would be, I should hope, too well confirmed by his previous course of long drill for such a temporary departure from rule to effect any permanent mischief; but, oh! beware of any such laxity with a young pupil, however strongly you may be tempted. In five minutes you may wholly undo the labour of a month. On days, therefore, when you are anxious, coÛte qui coÛte, to fill the game-bag, pray leave him at home. Let him acquire any bad habit when you are thus pressed for birds, and you will have more difficulty in eradicating it than you would have in teaching him almost any accomplishment. This reason made me all along keep steadily in view the supposition, that you had commenced with a dog unvitiated by evil associates, either biped or quadruped; for assuredly you would find it far easier to give a thoroughly good education to such a pupil, than to complete the tuition (particularly in his range) of one usually considered broken, and who must, in the natural order of things, have acquired some habits more or less opposed to your own system. If, as a puppy, he had been allowed to self-hunt and chase, your labour would be herculean. And inevitably this would have been your task, had you ever allowed him to associate with any dog who “self-hunted.” The oldest friend in your kennel might be led astray by forming an intimacy with the veriest cur, if a “self-hunter.” There is a fascination in the vice—above all, in killing young hares and rabbits,—that the steadiest dog cannot resist when he has been persuaded to join in the sport by some vagabond of a poacher possessing a tolerable nose, rendered keenly discerning by experience.

565. I hope that by this time we too well understand each other for you now to wonder why I think that you should not commence hunting your young dog where game is abundant. Professional breakers prefer such ground, because, from getting plenty of points, it enables them to train their dogs more quickly, and sufficiently well to ensure an early sale. This is their object, and they succeed. My object is that you shall establish ultimately great perseverance and a fine range in your young dog, let birds be ever so scarce. If you show him too many at first, he will subsequently become easily dispirited whenever he fails in getting a point.

It is the general paucity of game in Ireland (snipe and woodcock excepted) that makes dogs trained in that country show so much untiring energy and indomitable zeal when hunted on our side of the Channel. But the slight wiry Irish red setter (whom it is so difficult to see on the moor from his colour), is naturally a dog of great pace and endurance. There is, however, a much heavier sort.

566. Many dogs, solely from want of good condition, greatly disappoint their masters at the beginning of the season. You could not expect your hunter to undergo a hard day’s work without a previous course of tolerably severe exercise; and why expect it of your dog? A couple of hours’ quiet exercise in the cool of the morning or evening will not harden his feet, and get him into the wind and condition requisite for the performance you may desire of him some broiling day in the middle of August or early in September. If you do not like to disturb your game, and have no convenient country to hunt over, why should you not give him some gallops before the beginning of the shooting-season, when you are mounted on your trotting hackney? Think how greyhounds are by degrees brought into wind and hard meat before coursing commences. Such work on the road will greatly benefit his feet,[103] particularly if, on his return home in wet weather, they are bathed with a strong solution of salt and water. When the ground is hard and dry, they should be washed with warm water and soap, both to soothe them and to remove all dust and gravel. They might afterwards be gradually hardened by applying the salt and water. When they are inflamed and bruised, almost a magical cure might be effected by their being sponged with a solution of arnica—ten parts of water to one of arnica. Should the dog lick the lotion, dissolve a little aloes in it. If, by-the-bye, you would make it a rule personally to ascertain that attention is always paid to your dogs after a hard day’s work, and not leave them to the tender mercies of an uninterested servant, you would soon be amply repaid for your trouble by their additional performance. Many men make it a rule to send their dogs to the mountains a week or two before the grouse-shooting; but they seldom even then get sufficiently exercised, and their mettle is slacked (confessedly a temporary advantage with half broken, wild dogs), instead of being increased, by finding that, however many points they may make (at squeakers under their nose), they never secure a bird. A month’s road-work, with alterative medicine, is far better.

567. Dogs severely worked should be fed abundantly on a nutritious diet. Hunters and stage-coach horses have an unlimited allowance, and the work of eager setters and pointers (in a hilly country particularly) is proportionately hard; but the constitutions of dogs vary so greatly that the quantity as well as quality of their diet should be considered; for it must be your aim to obtain the largest development of muscle with the least superfluity of flesh,—that enemy to pace and endurance in dog as surely as in horse and man. Yet this remark does not apply to a water retriever: he should have fat. It is a warm, well-fitting great coat, more impervious to wet than a Mackintosh,—furnished by Providence to whales, bears, and all animals that have to contend with cold; and obviously your patient companion will feel the benefit of one when he is shivering alongside you while you are lying perdu in a bed of damp rushes.[104]

568. Having mentioned condition, I am led to observe, that in America I saw a pointer, which, from being hunted, I may say daily, Sundays excepted, could not be kept in condition on oatmeal and greaves, but which was put in hard flesh, and did his work admirably, when Indian-corn meal was substituted for the oatmeal. I have not seen it used in this country, but I can fancy it to be a heating food, better calculated for dogs at regular hard work than when they are summering.[105] It is well known that no food should be given in a very hot state,—not of a higher temperature than milk-warm; and that evening is the proper feeding-time, in order that the dogs may sleep immediately afterwards, and not be full when they are taken out for their morning’s work.

569. In India, I remember complaining to an old sportsman that I had much difficulty in keeping my dogs free from mange. He at once asked if I did not give them beef-tea with their rice. I acknowledged that I did. He said it was of too heating a nature. I tried mutton-broth, agreeably to his recommendation. Every vestige of mange vanished, but yet I could hardly believe it attributable to so slight a change in their diet, for very little meat was used. As the mutton was much dearer, I again tried the beef. It would not do. The mange reappeared. I was, therefore, obliged to return to the mutton, and continue it. The teeth of dogs show that flesh is a natural diet; and if they are wholly deprived of it when they are young, they will acquire most revolting habits,—feeding upon any filth they may find, and often rolling in it. The meat should be cooked.

570. The good condition of a dog’s nose is far from being an immaterial part of his conditioning, for on the preservation of its sensitiveness chiefly depends your hope of sport. If it be dry from being feverish, or if it be habituated to the villanous smells of an impure kennel, how are you to expect it to acknowledge the faintest taint of game—yet one that, if followed up by olfactory nerves in high order, would lead to a sure find? Sweetness of breath is a strong indication of health. Cleanliness is as essential as a judicious diet; and you may be assured, that if you look for excellence, you must always have your youngster’s kennel clean, dry, airy, and yet sufficiently warm. The more you attend to this, the greater will be his bodily strength and the finer his nose.

In India the kennels are, of course, too hot; but in the best constructed which fell under my observation, the heat was much mitigated by the roofs being thickly thatched with grass. In England, however, nearly all kennels—I am not speaking of those for hounds—are far too cold in winter.

571. There must be sufficient warmth. Observe how a petted dog, especially after severe exercise, lays himself down close to the fire, and enjoys it. Do you not see that instinct teaches him to do this? and must it not be of great service to him? Why, therefore, deny him in cold weather, after a hard day’s work, a place on the hearth-rug? It is the want of sufficient heat in the kennels, and good drying and brushing after hard work, that makes sporting dogs, particularly if they are long-coated ones, suffer from rheumatism, blear eyes, and many ills that generally, but not necessarily, attend them in old age. The instance given in 226 is a proof of this.

Winter pups, you are told, are not so strong as those born in summer. They would be, if they were reared in a warm room. The mother’s bodily heat cannot warm them; for after a while, they so pull her about and annoy her, that she either leaves them for a time, or drives them from her.

572. As I have casually touched on puppies, I will take the opportunity of recommending, according to the plan adopted by some sportsmen, and of which I have experienced the advantage, that you have a whole litter, soon after it has been weaned, (provided it be in a healthy state), inoculated for the distemper,—a small feather, previously inserted in the nose of a diseased dog, being for an instant put up the nostrils of the puppies. It will be necessary to keep them unusually warm,[106] and feed them high, while they are suffering from the effects of this treatment. It is not likely that you will lose any; but if you should, the loss will be small compared with that of an educated dog at a mature age. The extent of the mischief will probably be a slight cough, with a little running at the nose for a few days.

573. Having heard that vaccination would greatly mitigate the distressing symptoms of distemper, if not entirely remove all susceptibility to infection, I endeavoured to possess myself with the facts of the case. Circumstances were thus brought to my knowledge which appear so interesting, that a brief detail of them may not be unacceptable to some of my readers. It would seem that vaccination might be made as great a blessing to the canine race as it has proved to mankind:—that is to say, many experienced men are still of that opinion. All that I heard of material import is nearly embodied in letters I received, some years ago, from Mr. L——e, of Neat’s Court, Isle of Sheppey, an intelligent sportsman, much attached to coursing. As I am sure he will not object to my doing so, I will quote largely from his notes. He writes nearly mot-À-mot.

574. “It is with pleasure that I answer yours of this morning, and give you what little information I can respecting the vaccination of my puppies. Mr. Fellowes, who resided about eight years since at 34, Baker Street, was the first person from whom I learned anything on the subject. He was a great breeder of bull-dogs, of all the canine race the most difficult to save in distemper, greyhounds being, perhaps, the next on the list.[107] He told me that in twelve years he had lost but two puppies, and those not, he believed, from distemper, and yet he had regularly bred every year.

575. “I went to town purposely to see him operate upon a clutch. The method is very simple. Take a small piece of floss silk, and draw the end through a needle. On about the middle of the silk place some matter (when in a proper state) extracted from a child’s arm. Unfold (throw back) the ear so as to be able to see the interior part near the root. You will then perceive a little projecting knob or kernel almost detached from the ear. With the needle pierce through this kernel. Draw the silk each way till the blood starts. Tie the ends of the silk, and the process is completed. You may let the silk remain there: it will drop off after a time. The object is to deposit the matter by this method, instead of employing a lancet. I have great faith in the efficacy of the plan, simple as it appears. With me it has never failed. For some years in succession I dropped a clutch of greyhounds and two litters of setters, and not a single pup had the distemper more severely than for the disease to be just perceptible. A little opening medicine then quickly removed that slight symptom of illness. Perhaps the best age to operate upon puppies is when they are well recovered from their weaning.”

576. The balance of testimony and experience is, in my opinion, quite in favour of vaccination; but there are authorities of weight who think that no good results from it. It is, however, certain that it cannot be productive of harm. Blaine writes that, as far as his experience went, “vaccination neither exempts the canine race from the attack of the distemper, nor mitigates the severity of the complaint.” He adds, however, that the point was still at issue.

577. It appears right to observe that Blaine and Jenner were contemporaries at a period when the medical world was greatly opposed to the vaccination of children. It is not surprising, therefore, that there should have been an unjust prejudice against the vaccination of puppies. Youatt is altogether silent on the subject, although he quotes Dr. Jenner’s description of distemper. Colonel Cook, in his observations on fox-hunting, &c., says, “Vaccination was tried in some kennels as a preventive, but it failed, and was abandoned.” Mayhew[108] does not allude to it.

578. Not until after the foregoing remarks on vaccination were written, was I aware that Colonel Hawker recommended the plan, or, of course, I should, in former editions, have quoted such high authority. Speaking in 1838, he observes, “I have ever since adopted the plan of vaccination; and so little, if any, has been the effect of distemper after it, that I have not lost a dog since the year 1816.”—“This remedy has been followed with great success both here and in the United States. The plan adopted is to insert a small quantity of vaccine matter under each ear, just as you would do in the human arm.”

579. I know of many dogs in the south of England having been cured of a regular attack of distemper by a lump of salt, about the size of a common marble, being occasionally forced down their throats; say, for a grown-up pointer, half a dozen doses, with an interval of two or three hours between each. The salt acts as an emetic. Nourishing food and warmth are very requisite.

580. To some few of my readers it may possibly be of use to observe, that with a little management, it is very easy to trick a dog into taking medicine.

581. If your patient is a large animal, make a hole in a piece of meat, and having wrapped the physic in thin paper, shove it into the hole. Throw the dog one or two bits of meat, then the piece containing the medicine, and the chances are that he will bolt it without in the least suspecting he has been deceived. A pill, enveloped in silver paper, emits no smell. If a powder is well rubbed up with butter, and a little at a time of the mixture be smeared over the animal’s nose, he will lick it off and swallow it. Powders can also be placed between thin slices of bread and butter, and be so administered. If you are treating a small pampered favourite, probably a little previous starvation will assist you.

582. Should you fail in your stratagems, and force be necessary, it will be best to lay the dog on his back, or place him in a sitting posture between your knees, with his back towards you. In either position his legs are useless to him, as they have no fulcrum. While you are making him open his mouth, if you do this by forcing your thumb and fingers between his grinders, you can effectually protect yourself from a bite by covering them with the dog’s own lips—any powders then placed far back on the tongue near the throat must be swallowed on the dog’s mouth being firmly closed for a few seconds. He will not be able to eject them as they will adhere to his moist tongue. If given with a little dry sugar they will be the less nauseous, and therefore the dog will be less disposed to rebel when next you have occasion to act the part of a doctor.

583. Castor oil is a valuable medicine for dogs; and it is a good plan to let a pup occasionally lap milk into which a little of this oil is poured, as then he will not in after life dislike the mixture.

584. I have still one very important direction to give: NEVER LEND YOUR DOG. It may seem selfish, but if you make him a really good one, I strongly advise you never to lend him to any one not even to a brother, unless, indeed, his method of hunting be precisely the same as your’s. If you are a married man, you will not, I presume, lend your wife’s horse to any one who has a coarse hand; you would at least do it with reluctance; but you ought (I hope she will forgive my saying so) to feel far more reluctance and far more grief, should you be obliged to lend a good dog to an ignorant sportsman or to one who shoots for the pot.