The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1905-01-18


tawny markings, small, too, for his
age, but his eyes were merry and had
in them a peculiar knowingness that
l had never seen in dog-llind before,
nor since. | named him Pard and he
was truly a most willing and effectual
partner of my joys and sorrows. The
canyon was a lonely place, so far as
humankind went, though it was peo-
pied with all sorts of animals, some
that we chose and some that chose
us.
This little Pard puppy had the most
Surprising courage | have ever seen
in any animate thing. 1t was not cou-
pied with moroseness or i'll temper,
It was not displayed for his own graft
1cation, but in obedience to my wish
es. He would not hesitate to attack
any living thing and the tempestuous
fury of his attack and rage would
bluff off almost anything so that he
won surprising victories. | do not
like useless dog-flghting, but when we
discovered his quality we would give
him signal to attack other dogs, some
of them full grown and four times his
size and weight. 1t was astonishing
and amusing to see him launch him
self with fierce impetuosity upon some
huge antagonist and l never knew it
to fail that the big dog would be so
overwhelmed with surprise, dismay
and wonder that he would give up and
turn VAIL, l suppose he wondered
what sort OF animal this was anyhow,
behaving so differently from what
might reasonably be expected of a
puppy. Only with his brothers, all
bigger than himself, could he have a
real fight, and this we prevented as
much as possible for fear that one
would injure, maybe kill, the other. l
have seen Pard and big hummer, his
overgrown brother, twice his size, roll
headlong down precipitous hillside,
neither one relaxing hold. And yet
little Pard had sweet, sunny tenn
per. He fought because he deemed
1t part of his duty in the world, and
his policy of sudden, fierce onslaught
won. | have often thought of this
principle; it is true in many things
in life, one who is not afraid, who
Is vastly aggressive, overpowerS those
Inherently much stronger than them
selves.
Pard was a natural worker. He WAS
what the cowboys call "heeler," that
Is, without teaching almost, he would
slip up behind COW and bite her
heels. The result was a sudden attain
ment of speed on the part of the COW.
A dog that goes to the cows head is
no good on the range. Dogs were
very useful to us because of the rocky
and brushy canyons. Little Pard
would heel them when he was scarce
ly larger than an old cows foot. More
than once he got kicked tail over ap-
petite, once indeed the COW caught
his head between her foot and a rock
and that time he lay there without
Quiver for long time. thought it
his last effort, but he revived and
had lost none of his vim, curiously
enough. But he learned to get at the
heels sort of sideways as it were.
But little Pard was too good to last.
One day as horse wrangler was rid
ing up a brushy canyon after the sad
die band the little dog stopped to bark
In clump of maple brush. The rider
called him away, got the horses and
returning passed again this clump of
brush. The unwise little doggie
stopped again to investigate that great
yellow cat that lay watching him so
Bleepily with outstretched feet. There
must have been after the rider had
gone, a sudden leap, hoarse low
growl, a stunning blow Of huge paw,
o crunching of little dog bones and
the flesh of the gamest little shepherd
dog / have ever known became part
of mountain lion, while the intrepid
spirit went back to it's maker. We
never found his hide nor bones.
Some years later after | had come
back home to Ohio and was married
again sought shepherd dog. One
day when strolling in a thick forest
back from the road | found a log
cabin newly built, in which was dwell
ing a curious man, half hermit, half
woodsman, living all alone, clearing
up a bit of new ground" for the
crop, loafing wnen he wished, work
ing when the spirit moved. That
is not a bad sort of life, by the way
This old man Willis White had pair
of dogs that he called shepherds. 3"
The female seemed to be a Collie,
the dog must have been about half
that blood. He was big, strong, sill
snt, savage. Gypsies left him there,
desperately wounded; Willis White
took care of him and kept him. At
terwards the old dog would stand by
the hour and watch the highway, a
third of a mile away, dreamy look
in his eyes, thinking Of his old CON-
panions of the road, wondering, no
doubt, whether they would come for
him again. He was fine watchdog;
t was not safe to approach the cabin
when Willis was away.
A litter of fine puppies was born,
my wife and selected one of the pret-