Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1905-03-22
: - - .
THAT TACL0BAN DOG
Emilio CASTELAR, Baker Had
Many Excellent Traits.
WAS A LOYAL FRIEND
AND THAT'S WHY AN ARMY Of
FICER rs LONESOME.
Only a Miserable Little Filipino Cur,
but He Was ALI
Right.
WAS A LOYAL FRIEND

81 am lonesome Tor my fHlilppiue uo6'
observed the army officer, and the remark
sounded 50 much like the title of ne"
ragtime song that they all asked him to go
ahead and sing it.
But it's sure-enough dog-I didn't pur-
posely fall into METER said the army Of
ficer. who was Lieut.. William Bernard
Baker of the 18th Infantry, who has made
three trips to the Philippres-the first one
during the Spanish war, with the Astor
Battery, when he was wounded, and the
other two with the regiment to which ne
has since belonged.
II haven't clapned eye on dog-any KIND
Of a dog-since getting back to the states
that 1 haven't felt acutely lonesome for
sight of Senior Emilio CASTELAR, Baker
that's the name of my Filipino dog" went
on Lieutenant Baker Not that Senior
Emilio CASTELAR, Baker was any swell dog
or prize bench animal anything OF that
sort. But he was one OF the closest anu
thickest pals I've ever had, In or out OF
the service, bar none, and that's why
give anything l possess, within reason, for
one shake of his spraddly paw right now.
II caught duty at Tacloban, which is five
days from Manila twice in succession-the
first time ! went down to the islands with
the 18th and this last time There isn't
anything essentially Edenic about Taclo-
ban, but Tacloban certainly is strong when
it comes to dogs. They travel in packs,
like all unowned Filipino dogs, and like
the dogs of Constantinople and other ORR
entail cities. They seem to be always on
the move, as if they were perpetual mo-
ton dogs. They go swirling and yelplng
and registering through a settlement or
post, in punches, day and night, like gangs
of human marauders, and they never seem
to stop long enough to rest Ihey even
eat on the run. Presumably they sleep
while they are shuffling along at a dog
Their fip1S DprfeCt
munity-I never saw a Filipino dog stop
long enough to look for f1eas-except Senior
Emilio CASTELAR, Baker, and he was an ex-
ceptional dog. But even he never seemed
to become shamefacedly aware of his fleas
until he voluntarily abandoned his caste
forever and hitched up with occidental
civilization as represented by me.
The First Meeting.
Castelar, and 1 cut each others trails
about a week after 1 struck Tacloban on
my first arrival there for duty. 1 was
trudging along the rough and dusty path to
my quarters one afternoon when 1 heard
the yelping of a dog-pack behind me, and,
as the sight had not yet become a familiar
one to me, 1 stopped to watch the rushing
barking herd typhoon by.
Il noticed that a dog in the middle of
the bunch, and somewhat smaller than the
others, appeared to be getting some the
worst of it. The others-there were about
dozen of them-kept him surrounded, and
they were varying the obvious monotony OF
their aimless canter by taking frequent nips
at his ears and legs. Both of his ears were
bloody when l caught sight of him and saw
what was going on AS the bunch swirled
past me beside the path, I booted as many
of the outsiders as I could reach, which
gave the abused dog chance to fall out,
for the kicked ones Sweryed and made an
opening for him to slip Through back
wards. f-n
ssWhile thew went careerjnp into the
jungle this nipped one squatted and began
to lick bleeding spot on his left foreleg.
That dog looked pretty tired and seedy, for
a fact. In color he was just yaller, and In
plified cross between grounding and
guinea pig, except that his nose was taper
ing and wolfsh. He was, take him for all
in ALL and giving him all due credit for
pulchritudinouS four-legged proposition in
the general disguise of dog that l ever
looked at, and I've been chums with all
kinds of dogs, patrfcian and plebeian as far
back as 1 can remember.
Getting Acquainted.
"I walked over to him and bestowed
perfunctory pat or so upon his head. He
looked up at me in a puzzled sort of way
when did that 1t was doubtless the first
pat he'd ever got from human hand, and
he didn't quite know what to make of 1t.
He MADE up MS nina thdt ne Hkeu II,
though, for when l tried it again he sort
of pressed the back of his head against my
palm, as to get closer pressure and
more action, as it were.
Well, I'm bound to the quarters for
tifin-join me" l remarked to the dog,
with no idea that he'd follow me, for I'd
never seen a Filipino dog follow strange
white man, invitation or no invitation.
He got right up on his four feet, wag-
ged his disreputable tail as much as to say,
You're on and stood waiting for me to
move. When / moved toward the quar-
tiers he took after me and maintained a
steady equal distance of six inches behind
my heels. It looked lucky to me. for L
knew Filipino dogs and their reserved
ways
when I got to my bungalow my much
acho, boy named Philemon, made the ini
tial demonstrations toward hot-footing my
dog through the door and all the way to
the jungle, and 1 had to call Philemon off
and threaten to make him head shorter
with a bolo If he ever so much as whis-
pered word of wrath against that mutt.
I've been fighting for dogs of my own
adoption ever since, as a boy, l used to
smuggle members of the street species
through the basement door of my boyhood
home. You get something back when you
fight for dogs. They're grateful.
well, this canine brand plucked from
the burning, or the nipping, passed through
all of the stages of a difficult mental battle
for a week or ten days before he finally
made up his mind whether he was going to
take up with the civilized or revert to the
simple or Bedouin life. He was shaken
from center to circumference between his
yen to return to the pack, badly as the
pack had been treating him, and his I'M
willingness to hurt my feelings by desert
ing me.
Battling With Temptation.
"When he'd hear pack of dogs come
baying across the clearing, he'd go out and
sit on the front steps of my bungalow and
wait for the pack to go by. The joy of the
jungle would steal into his eyes, and he
would turn his head and gaze at me ques
tioningly. 1 never said anything to him, one
way or the other. If the dictates of his
inner being prompted him to go, I wasn't
going to attempt to hold him. Seeing the
dog seated on the front steps of the
bungalow, the passing pack would often
pull up and look him over and yelp ami
bark at him, and 1t sometimes seemed
to me as if they were making faces at
him. He'd stand up on all-fours and then
sit down again nervously dozen times
while the pack stood out in front hurting
derision at him for his supine acceptance
of so hobbling and unworthy thing as
a civilized home, and when they'd resume
their canter and sweep across the next
clearing for the jungle he'd look at me
again and whimper miserably thus making
manifest the fierceness of the conflict that
was raging within him.
ha INF with IN, h Fa~ y,