The Adventures of a Dog, and a Good Dog Too | Page 5

on to which I at length dragged
myself, very tired and out of breath, but quite recovered from my fear. I
ran over the grass towards the town as fast as I could, stopping now and
then to shake my coat, which was not so wet, however, as you would
suppose; but before I had got half way home I met the doggess,
hopping along, with her tongue out of her mouth, panting for breath,
she having run all the way from the kennel, out of which I had popped
so suddenly, along the bank, with the hope of picking me up
somewhere. She knew, she said, that I should never be drowned. But
how she could know that was more than I could then imagine.
When we met, after I had escaped so great a danger, I flew to her paws,
in the hope of getting a tender lick; but as soon as she recovered breath,
she caught hold of one of my ears with her teeth, and bit it till I howled
with pain, and then set off running with me at a pace which I found it
difficult to keep up with. I remember at the time thinking it was not
very kind of her; but I have since reflected that perhaps she only did it
to brighten me up and prevent me taking cold.
This was my first adventure, and also my first acquaintance with the

water. From that day I often ventured into the river, and in the end
became so good a swimmer, that there were few dogs in Caneville who
could surpass me in strength and dexterity afloat.
Many moons came and passed away, and I was getting a big dog. My
appetite grew with my size, and as there was little to eat at home, I was
forced to wander through the streets to look after stray bones; but I was
not the only animal employed thus hunting for a livelihood, and the bits
scattered about the streets being very few and small, some of us, as may
be imagined, got scanty dinners. There was such quarrelling and
fighting, also, for the possession of every morsel, that if you were not
willing to let go any piece you had seized upon, you were certain to
have half-a-dozen curs upon your back to force you to do so; and the
poor weakly dog, whose only hope of a meal lay in what he might pick
up, ran a sad chance of being starved.
One of the fiercest fights I have ever been engaged in occurred upon
one of these occasions. I had had no breakfast, and it was already past
the hour when the rich dogs of Caneville were used to dine. Hungry
and disconsolate, I was trotting slowly past a large house, when a
side-door opened, and a servant jerked a piece of meat into the road. In
the greatest joy I pounced upon the prize, but not so quickly but that
two ragged curs, who were no doubt as hungry as myself, managed to
rush to the spot in time to get hold of the other end of it. Then came a
struggle for the dainty; and those who do not know how hard dogs will
fight for their dinner, when they have had no breakfast, should have
been there to learn the lesson. After giving and receiving many severe
bites, the two dogs walked off--perhaps they did not think the meat was
worth the trouble of contending for any longer--and I was left to enjoy
my meal in peace. I had scarcely, however, squatted down, with the
morsel between my paws, than a miserable little puppy, who seemed as
if he had had neither dinner nor breakfast for the last week, came and
sat himself at a little distance from me, and without saying a word,
brushed the pebbles about with his ragged tail, licked his chops, and
blinked his little eyes at me so hopefully, that, hungry as I was, I could
not begin my meat. As I looked at him, I observed two tears gather at
the side of his nose, and grow bigger and bigger until they would no

longer stop there, but tumbled on to the ground. I could bear it no
longer. I do not know even now what ailed me; but my own eyes grew
so dim, that there seemed a mist before them which prevented my
seeing anything plainly. I started up, and pushing to the poor whelp the
piece of meat which had cost me three new rents in my coat and a split
ear, I trotted slowly away. I stopped at the corner to see whether he
appeared to enjoy it, and partly to watch that no other dog should take
it from