Sheep Dogs.

Press, Volume LXVI, Issue 19942, 31 May 1930, Page 14

Sheep Dogs.

The trouble with dogs, as Sir Walter Scott long ago pointed out, is that they die. If they would live even as long as our horses, or as long as our cows—if anyone knows exactly how long cows would live if they had a chance—we - would not be for ever lamenting losses which, harden ourselves as we will, hurt us more the more often we have to endure them. But dogs do not live as long as horses, or as long as cows, or . even as long as some birds. They live very little longer than sheep and goats, and when they die their knowledge dies with them; That is the first sad fact about them, and the second, is that they never suspect how often we prefer them to our own kind. Field-Marshal Sir William Birdwood suggested the other day, in the preface to a book about sheep dogß (The Working Sheep Dog., By James L. Moore), that in the training of " trial" dogs man is able to show " his mental dominion over the animal " world in perhaps a more marked way "than it is possible to do in any other "form of animal training"; and this, if we do not push "dominion" too far, is the truth. It may also be true—Sir Wijliam almost suggests it — that it is this sense of superiority which is half our pleasure in our dogs. We like them because they are clever; so clever that they will do everything we ask them to do. But if this were the whole story, or even the greater part of it, how should we explain the almost complete lack of good books about dogs—especially about sheepdogs, the -cleverest and most obedient of all? Mr Moore almost apologises for writing a book about them. " While I am aware," he begins, " of "the significance to the world of a "Leonardo da-Vinci, of a Beethoven,, "and of a Nelson, and of the efforts " of psychologists and writers for " hundreds of years to explain the pro-

• " cesses of mind that go to make up "a genius, I deem it no unimportant " task to chronicle the wonders of "canine intelligence, to tell the deathless story of a devotion that takes "no account of sacrifice or hardship, "of a selflessness equal to that of ? martyrs, and of a usefulness in the " service of man that, in terms of " money alone, has meant the saving "of countless millions." But he has no sooner started off boldly, and grandiloquently, like that, than he takes fright, and begins to defejd the apparent extravagance of his language. He is indeed still apologising at the end of three pages, and takes refuge at last in the sad excuse that the book is " a reply to the thousands of letters "he has received, each asking some "question about a dog's life and up- " bringing." No one is ashamed to write about horses, heavy or light, though they are not half as intelligent as dogs, and it is not so long since a big book was devoted to the Personality of the Pig. Well pigs do have personality, but no one has yet been able to say of them that if they are greedy it is because they have greedy owners, and that when they look mistrustfully at us —they never do anything else—it cuts, and should cut, to the bone. Mr Moore says something not much short of this when he brings in "a famous old shepherd, of sheep- " guarding genealogy for centuries "back," to tell us that no deceitful man ever had a faithful dog, that no man is ever bitten by a dog who does not deserve it, and that it hurts less to be kicked by a mule than to receive a sidelong glance from a dog that we have ourselves reared and trained. Mr Moore quotes this " sturdy, honest fellow " —and he has now been defending himself for six pages—because he wants his readers to realise that " animals which can move men so " greatly by giving so generously " are worthy of a tribute " that, while " serving as their memorial, goes "further" and spreads the knowledge of how to train, rear, and value them. And when books about dogs do not begin like this, they are novels, or ken-nel-club compilations, or genealogies, or collections of bad jokes. It is almost as remarkable as the modesty of those who stay away from dog trials. They know the old proverb is true—that " there is no good shepherd with"out a good flock, and no good flock " without a good dog " —but they are shy about " rubbing the lesson in " by a too frequent appearance in the trial paddock. Either that, or they , are afraid of being reminded too often that men work for money and dogs for pure joy.