[ Strachey / Dog Stories from the "Spectator" ]
John St. Loe Strachey (1860 - 1927) was an English journalist from a family distinguished for its contributions to British culture and politics.
The Spectator is a British weekly cultural and political magazine. Having begun publication in 1828 and continuing to this day, it is the oldest weekly magazine in the world. This collection of dog-related anecdotes from the magazine — its subtitle is "being anecdotes of the intelligence, reasoning power, affection and sympathy of dogs, selected from the correspondence columms of 'The Spectator'" — was edited by John St. Loe Strachey and first published in 1895, with a second edition the followoing year. Text below is from the first edition (New York: Macmillan).
The first Newf-related anecdote is entitled "A Parcel-Carrying Dog" and is from the February 9, 1895, issue:
In illustration of the anecdotal letters about dogs and their habits, in the Spectator of February 2nd, and Mr. Lang's paper in this month's Nineteenth Century, I send you the following story of a dog which I had in 1851 and for three years afterwards. He was a handsome Newfoundland dog, and one of the most intelligent animals with which it was ever my good luck to meet. I was living in a village about three miles from Dover, where I did all my shopping and marketing, being generally my own "carrier." Sometimes Nep would carry home a small parcel for me, and always most carefully. On one occasion Nep was with me when I chose a spade, and asked the ironmonger to send it by the village carrier. The spade was put by, labelled and duly addressed. I went on to have a bathe, my dog going with me, but on finishing my toilet in the machine, and calling and whistling for Nep, he was nowhere to be seen. He was not to be found at the stable where I had le?t my horse, but on calling at the ironmonger's shop I found he had been there and had carried off the spade which I had bought, balancing it carefully in his mouth. When I reached home, there Nep was, lying near his kennel in the stable-yard looking very fagged, but wearing a countenance of the fullest self-satisfaction, and evidently wishing me to think he had ?ulfilled his "dog-duty." My friend Mr. Wood, who was a thorough lover and admirer of dogs, was delighted to hear of his intelligent performance.
"CANOPHILIST."
P.S. — I may add Nep always guarded me when bathing, and always went into the water with me, too, often uttering a peculiar kind of "howl."
The next Newf anecdote, which has a familiar ring — here's a similar story from 1818 — is titled "Conscious Automata" and is from the July 31, 1875, issue:
I HAVE lately heard a story that I hope you may think worthy of a place among your illustrations of the thoughtful intelligence of “Conscious Automata.” Many years ago, a family having a house in Grosvenor Square, and a place in the country (I think in Warwickshire), owned a terrier, who, in the country, made great friends with a large Newfoundland. When they came to town they brought the terrier, and he resided in a mews where he was much annoyed by a cur who lived next door, and attacked him whenever he came out. One day the terrier disappeared, but after a little time returned, bringing with him his big friend, who gave the vulgar bully a satisfactory thrashing — not attempting to kill him. This has been told me by an old servant, who was then a young man, living in service in London, close to the owners of the dogs. He answers for the facts of the story as he heard them at the time. - F. C.
The next anecdote comes from the March 21, 1885, issue, and was titled "A Rusé Dog" ("rusé" being French for "cunning"):
A STORY which came to my knowledge a few months ago may be of interest in connection with the Spectator's series of anecdotes illustrating the intelligence of animals.
One Sunday afternoon a group of children were playing at the end of a pier which projects into Lake Ontario, near Kingston, U. S. A. The proverbial careless child of the party made the proverbial backward step off from the pier into the water. None of his companions could save him, and their cries brough no one from the shore, when, just as he was sinking for the third time, a superb Newfoundland dog rushed down the pier into the water and pulled the boy out. Those of the children who did not accompany the boy home took the dog to a confectioner's on the shore, and fed him with as great a variety of cakes and other sweets as he would eat. So far the story is, of course, only typical of scores of well-known cases. The individuality of this case is left for the sequel.
The next afternoon the same group of children were playing at the same place, when the canine hero of the day before came trotting down to them with the most friendly wags and nods. There being no occasion this time for supplying him with delicacies, the children only stroked and patted him. The dog, however, had not come out of pure sociability. A child in the water and cakes and candy stood to him in the close and obvious relation of cause and effect, and if this relation was not clear to the children, he resolved to impress it upon them. Watching his chance, he crept up behind the child who waa standing nearest to the edge of the pier, gave a sudden push, which sent him into the water, then sprang in after him, and gravely brought him ashore.
To those of us who have had a high respect for the disinterestedness of dogs, this story may give a melancholy proof that the development of the intelligence at the expense of the moral nature, is by no means exclusively human.
Clara French.
The above anecdote was reprinted almost verbatim in the August, 1885, issue of American Kennel Register.