Home › A Few Hints to Canary-Keepers › A Few Hints to Canary-Keepers

A Few Hints to Canary-Keepers

BE very particular about the food. You cannot have a better guide than nature in dealing with pets. Study them and find out what they would probably eat were they free. Rape seed is the staple food, and watercress, groundsel, or hemp seed at breeding-time will be acceptable. These birds are very fond of sugar, but it is not always advisable to give them sweets. A piece of bay salt to peck at would be much better.

Feed your birds regularly, and give them every day what they can eat during the twenty-four hours. Pure good water is as necessary to the canary as to the human race. Let him have his bath in summer. The female birds must not bathe while incubating.

Cleanliness is essential, and all corrosive fixings to the cage should be avoided. Brazen things or paint, for instance, are injurious. Light, air, and space, are very necessary. Let the bird be happy, and he will sing and enjoy himself, and repay your care.

DOGS.

IT is to be supposed that each reader of these pages is either the possessor of a dog, or desires to obtain that privilege, and that he will wish to learn in a few lines the best way of managing and training his favourite. There are many works which treat of the Dog; but all those which are trustworthy are of very large dimensions, necessarily costly, and contain a vast amount of information which is very valuable to the owner of hounds, to the sportsman, or to the game-keeper, but is not required by the generality of those to whom these words are addressed. We have, therefore, endeavoured to condense into the few pages which can be allotted to a single subject all the information which is absolutely needed by those who keep dogs merely for amusement and the love of their society.

Firstly, we may answer here a question that is often asked--namely, which is the best breed of dogs for ordinary purposes ? We of course exclude all the strictly sporting dogs, such as the fox-hound and harrier, the greyhound, and perhaps the bull-dog, though there is something to be said in favour of the last-mentioned, and somewhat maligned, animal.

The tasks that we wish to impose on the dog are light and simple. We want him to be watchful at night, to alarm the house at the sound of a strange step on the premises; if possible, we want him to be courageous enough to attack an intruder. We want him to be a pleasant companion in our daily walks, to hunt after anything at which we may set him, to swim after any object that we may point out, and to retrieve anything for which we may send him. At the same time, we want him to be completely under command, and to be obedient at the least word or sign.

Lastly, we want him to be cleanly and comfortable in the house, to know how to keep out of the way when he is not wanted, and to be sufficiently clever to learn all kinds of amusing performances.

Where, then, shall we find an animal that is capable of fulfilling all these conditions ?

There are several varieties of dogs which are well suited for general purposes. There is the spaniel for example, faithful, affectionate, clever, and docile. There is the poodle, perhaps the best "trick" dog in the world, with his funny curly coat and his soft brown eye, full of intelligence almost human. There is the Newfoundland dog, who is perhaps almost too big to be a dweller within the house. There is the terrier, an amusing, bright-eyed, agile-limbed, fussy animal. There is the Italian greyhound, one of the most beautiful animals in the world, but too delicate to please the taste of a boy. There is the Scotch terrier, that odd, wiry-haired, clever creature, which has so often been immortalised by affectionate owners.

All these varieties are delightful animals, and we like them all. But had we the choice of a dog, we should take neither of them, preferring a mixture between the terrier and the bull-dog, provided, of course, that each were of good breed. Many people fancy that a bull-terrier is a dangerous dog to have about the house, and imagine that it is given to biting without due cause, and is too savage to be turned into a pet.

But much of this misapprehension may be traced to the long-established and popular error regarding the bull-dog. It is seldom that a favourable account of this animal is given, and it is thought to be brutal, stupid, vindictive, and irreclaimably ferocious. It is impossible to deny that too many bull-dogs agree with this description; but it is equally impossible to deny that whenever they possess such bad characters the fault lies almost entirely with their master. "Like master, like dog," is an old and true saying, which has been based on the experience of many years.

If the bull-dog is properly treated, if the owner makes the animal his companion, and if he carefully studies its character, as every pet-owner ought to do, encouraging the good qualities, and gently reproving the bad, it will be as gentle and much more quiet than a King Charles or a toy terrier. Looks are certainly against the animal. There is, perhaps, no creature with a more fell aspect than a thorough-bred bull-dog. Its underhung jaw, its glittering teeth, its sunken eyes, its tremendous chest, and lowering countenance are calculated to inspire terror rather than interest.

Yet, when a bull-dog is managed with a due appreciation of canine nature, its aspect thoroughly belies its true nature. We know a thorough-bred bull-dog belonging to a friend, one of the fiercest and most sullen-looking beasts imaginable. Every one gives the animal a very wide berth; and we confess that when we first saw it we thought that its owner was not acting very wisely in permitting it to walk about unmuzzled. Yet this creature is playful and harmless as a kitten. Its great jaws look positively awful as it opens its mouth, and until its real qualities are known, it requires some little presence of mind to withstand its playful rush.

For a pet, however, the bull-dog is scarcely suited, not being sufficiently active or lively. The purely-bred English terrier, on the other hand, is as mercurial a beast as one can wish to see; but it has little steadiness of purpose, is apt to run riot, and is a rank coward, not daring to face a rat, and having serious doubts before it can make up its mind to attack a mouse; therefore the skilful dog-fancier contrives a judicious mixture of the two breeds, and engrafts the tenacity, endurance, and dauntless courage of the bull-dog upon the more agile and frivolous terrier. Thus he obtains a dog that can do almost anything, and though perhaps it may not surpass, it certainly rivals, almost every other variety of the canine species in its accomplishments. In the capacity for learning tricks it scarcely yields, if it does yield at all, to the poodle. It can retrieve as well as the dog which is especially bred for that purpose. It can hunt the fox with the regular hounds. It can swim and dive as well as the Newfoundland dog. In the house it is one of the wariest and most intelligent of dogs, permitting no unaccustomed footstep to enter the domain without giving warning. It will chase rabbits, weasels, rats, or, indeed, any game, with unextinguishable ardour, and will fight any foe at which its master may set it.

One fault indeed it has. It is just a trifle too quarrelsome with other dogs, and when it meets a strange individual of its own species, and has gone through all the preliminaries of back-arching; bristle-setting, sotto voce growling, and the various performances with which two strange dogs greet each other, it is a little too apt to cut matters short by challenging the other to instant combat. Even this fault, however, is easily overcome by a kind but firm master, who can impress upon his pupil that it is not to fight anything at which he has not set it.

And here let us make a few remarks upon the management of dogs. Severity is not at all needed, but firmness of purpose is indispensable. Patience and good temper are also two requisites, without which no one should attempt to manage a dog. The animal must be made to feel that when an order is given it has to obey at once, and not even the very slightest act of disobedience should be passed unnoticed. He will soon learn that lesson, and the rest is easy.

If you can procure a dog in his early puppyhood, it is certainly the very best method, and you will not require a whip; but should the animal have attained maturity, you may employ this instrument, but must use it with the greatest discretion. If the dog is worthy of the name, you can punish him in a far more effectual way by appealing to his sense of shame than by flogging him; but if you once lose your temper, and begin to inflict a beating on the animal, half your influence will vanish.

If the dog wilfully disobeys you, as will often be the case when he is full-grown and is trying your mettle, take him by the neck, tell him how wicked he has been, and give him one very sharp blow; not more than one,--because if you do so he gets so frightened that he forgets all about the scolding. Then let him have another chance, repeat the order, and if he disobeys again, inflict another stroke. He is not likely to offend a third time; and when he obeys the order, speak kindly to him, praise him, and make much of him,--for you can do more with a dog by praise than by rating. With a dog which you have possessed from puppyhood there is seldom the least necessity for severity. The creature is so accustomed to do what his master desires, that he hardly conceives the possibility of disobedience. Gentle firmness is all that is necessary in such a case; indeed, we are always opposed to the infliction of pain, except in rare instances, where it is the only means by which the animal can be taught the necessity for obedience. We cannot bear to see a dog look up to its master with the half-frightened, half-shrinking expression which is observable in one that has been accustomed to the whip. The animal ought to consider its master as its best friend, and to run to him when it is in distress, rather than to fear his presence and tremble at his voice.

The Rev. J. G. Wood, writing on this subject, says:-- "My dear old Rory used to be most abjectly miserable when he had offended me. His frisky tail and pretentious ears would droop on such occasions, his easy assured carriage would sink into a list-less, spiritless gait, he would hide his head like a naughty child, he would not leave or enter the room openly, but would make the transit of the apartment by slinking under the chairs and tables, so as to keep himself out of sight as much as possible. He would crawl under my chair, and after waiting some time in hopes that I should notice him, would just push his nose against my heel, and then retreat again to his hiding-place. He would not eat, nor drink, nor sleep, nor be comforted by any one until I had spoken the desired words of forgiveness. "And then, when the first words of reconciliation were spoken, how he would advance with hope beaming in his countenance, still mixed with diffidence, lest he should have mistaken the tone of voice. And when he was quite certain that he was pardoned, when he felt my hand upon his head, how wild he was with delight ! How he would jump about, and run from one person to another on his hind legs, and roll over on his back, and pretend to bite every one in turn, and knock the cat over, and bark until he had to be turned out of the room for the sake of preserving the drums of our ears. "Then how he would get out of the house, dash down the street at full speed, come pelting back again, jump on the window sill, bang with his tail for admission, and then walk quite soberly to his usual place, and lie on the hearthrug just as if nothing had happened. "There certainly are dogs whose feelings are quite beyond the reach of human sympathies; but it is more than probable that their callousness is attributable to the bad treatment of their owner, and not to any inherent defect in the animal's nature. In my little book, 'Glimpses into Petland,' the reader may see an account of a ridiculous dog who fairly got the better of me by simple vacuity and selfishness. I never saw such a dog in my life, and I really do not want to see such another. "Nothing could be made of him. He did not care for kindness; he could not be influenced by the whip; he never thought of obeying orders; he got into every scrape in which a dog could by any possibility fall; and was altogether a hopeless subject. Had I been a novice in the management of animals, I should have thought myself in fault; but being tolerably experienced in such matters, I was at no loss to set the failure down to its right source. "Just before commencing this account, I received a letter from a correspondent who had read the account of 'Roughie,' and wrote a vindication of the Skye terrier, to which variety the dog belonged. My correspondent stated that if the Skye terrier were obtained when young, and well treated, it was one of the most affectionate and faithful animals that could be found; but that if it were bandied about from one master to another, it lost all its loving qualities, and became a reckless, selfish beast. Such had evidently been the case with 'Roughie,' and thus his peculiar disposition was accounted for." We will now just run through the list of the dogs which are best suited for pets. Of the bull-dog we have already spoken, as also of the terrier, which, as we have said, should be, if possible, a mixture of the two varieties. If you can secure a good healthy puppy from well-bred parents, think yourself fortunate, and make much of the dog.

Do not crop his ears. If you have any sporting friends, they will advise you to do so, tell you that it spoils the dog, and give you all kinds of advice about it. Now, in the first place, it is reasonable to think that the dog's Maker knows best the kind of ear that is most suitable for the dog, and frames it accordingly. If the short, cropped form had really been the best, it would have been made after that pattern, and not left to the scissors of the dog-doctor to complete the work.

So we say to our readers, defy the ridiculous prevailing fashion, and oppose common sense to it. In a few more years this cropping process will be pronounced obsolete and unnatural; so be amongst those who lead opinion, and save your dogs the pain of that cruel and unnecessary process. Not long ago worming was all the fashion. No dog was considered safe unless it had been wormed; that is, unless the under side of the tongue had been cut open, and the central tendon pulled out. Of course, when a tendon is drawn from the living body and laid in the cold air, it contracts and twists about. Therefore it was held to be a worm, and every-where believed to be the cause of hydrophobia.