The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-06-28
POODLE"
Written for the indianapolis Journal.

Written for the indianapolis Journal.
To pack of trained dogs which has just
jingled by in gaily caparisoned parade am
indebted for being reminded of poodle" Poor
Poode AS useless piece of dog flesh as ever
numbered the green earth, and yet vastly enter
tanning withal. Poodle was'a New Orleans dog,
and an ugly little wretch he was. In many cases
of dog mania a reasonable reason may be seen
to exist; the graceful greyhound. the lop-eared
hunting dog. the unique pug, or the trickey
"black and tan, each justfying in its character
istcs accomplishments, or beauty, the fondness
of it's owner; but Poodle in neither of these re-
spects had any excuse Tor existence, being only
horrid little roll of animated cotton or wool.
with pair of pink eyes peering out Of one end
of it, and little, Insignificant stringy apology
for tail wiggling at the other. When made
Poodle's acquaintance he was boarder, like
myself, the family to which he belonged having
moved 10 Kansas leaving Poodle in
the care of fourteen-year-o owner,
'Tom," who when the time was ripe
and the furniture all packed was
to be.ake Poodle and himself thither, also.
tom" was a noblelooking Southern boy, with
a marked disinclination to exertion of all vare-
ties, weakness for novels and personal adorn-
ment, and a strong tendency to confne his
conversation entirely to Poodle. When he en-.
tered the house after an absence, his sole
greeting was made to Poodle Hello, Poodle!
I like YOU Poodle Do you like me, Poodlel"
Poodle would creep into sight, wave his stringy
little candle-wck tail, and blink his watery eyes
in appreciation of his lazy little lord and master
and novel; the other into a little drab coil at
his feet, and silence would reign until the dinner
bell rang At meal-tme Poodle kept life from
stagnation by dancing frantically about the
table on his hind legs, in open-iawed and fevered
expectation of the morsels which he didn't get.
My hostess drew line on feeding dogs at the
table. ''Tom," she would say, 'you must at
tend to feeding Poodle. don't know ANYTHING
about feeding dogs, and I'll overfeed him
or something, and then he'll die
poor Poodle, who was evidently
in the last stages of starvation. and deliberately
remark: "Oh. Poodlel get along. won't you,
Poodle Poodle didn't die, so he evidently
must have got along by establishing satisfac-
tory arrangements with the colored cook, Mary
Ann Mary Ann hated dogs, especially poodes,
and vowed every day she would ''kill that dog
70 night, law er no law" and then, with the ad-
mirable inconsistency for which her sex is con-
spicuous, she would set aside the choicest bits of
meat and cake for his private rejection. But
Poodle an unmitigated nuisance all the time,
shone forth in his greatest brlliancy in that
capacity at bedtime, when other social lumi-
naries are on the wane. AS sure as
bed time come my hostess would exclaim:
Goodness; il there amt Poodle under my bed;
why on earth don't Tom put Poodle to bed
before he goesf Poodle, come out of there"
Poodle, however, knowing when ne was we'll off.
declined to come out of there" and the scene