will play with you, mourn for you, or die for you. Why, literature is full
of his heroism. Who has climbed Helvellyn without being haunted by that
shepherd's dog that inspired Scott and Byron? Or the Pass of St. Bernard
without remembering the faithful hounds of the great monastery? But the cat
is a secret and alien creature, selfish and mysterious, a Dr. Jekyll and
Mr. Hyde. See her purring on the hearth-rug in front of the fire, and she
seems the picture of innocence and guileless content. All a blind, my dear
fellow, all a blind. Wait till night comes. Then where is demure Mistress
Puss? Is she at home keeping vigil with the good dog Tray? No, the house
may be in blazes or ransacked by burglars for all she cares. She is out on
the tiles and in back gardens pursuing her unholy ritual--that strange
ritual that seems so Oriental, so sinister, so full of devilish purpose. I
can understand the old association of witchcraft with cats. The sight of
cats almost makes me believe in witchcraft, in spite of myself. I can
believe anything about a cat. She is heartless and mercenary. Her name has
become the synonym of everything that is mean, spiteful, and vicious. "An
old cat" is the unkindest thing you can say about a woman.

But the dog wears his heart on his sleeve. His life is as open as the day.
He has his indecorums, but he has no secrets. You may see the worst of him
at a glance, but the best of him is inexhaustible. A cat is as remote from
your life as a lizard, but a dog is as intimate as your own thoughts or
your own shadow, and his loyalty is one of the consolations of a disloyal
world. You remember that remark of Charles Reade's: "He was only a man, but
he was as faithful as a dog." It was the highest tribute he could pay to
his hero--that he was as faithful as a dog. And think of his services--see
him drawing his cart in Belgium, rounding up the sheep into the fold on the
Yorkshire fells, tending the cattle by the highway, warning off the night
prowler from the lonely homestead, always alert, always obedient, always
the friend of man, be he never so friendless.... Shall we go for a walk?