The Mena weekly star., 1920-08-05
Ffnnegan Is Dead, But His Prairie Dog Life Was Not In Vain; He Was a Lunger, Too.

Finnegan is dead. He died of tu- berculosis at Carlsbad. Texas. He spent most of his short life cheering the long. lonesome days with his pranks for Mac, who was his master, and who was confined to his bed. He contracted the disease from Mac, and now he has paid with his life for all the joy and comfort he brought into Macs weary, bed-ridden days. Finnegan was a prairie dog. He was born on the free open prairie which stretched from the doorway of Macs bungalow to the very edge of the sky-as far as Mac could see as he gazed out at the unchanging land scape from day to day. Normally he would have frisked about that prairie for several years, playing through the days with his fellows, and incidentally running the range for the cattle. Un- der the new prairie dog law" which has declared war on all his race, how ever, he might have been destroyed in the interest of fat cattle Thou sands of the little doggies who were born in the spring of 1915-the same time Finnegan was born-were sent to prairie dog heaven before the fall. But not Finnegan. He had a mission, and he lived to perform it.
 Mac Learned to Love Him.
 The story of Finnegan is simply this A boy captured him when he was a few weeks old, and took him to Mac to be his companion. At first Finnegan did not want to stay, and he was kept cooped up in wire cage. Mac. who was now growing to be more than a middIe-aged man, and who was forced to be apart from his wife and little girls at home, in an effort to prolong his life little while, soon found it comfort to care for the little prairie dog. He called him Finnegan, for no reason in par ticular except that it seemed to fit him. He had found something to love, and Finnegan son grew to love Mac too.
 When Finnegan grew used to the place he was permitted to leave the cage and nip the young grass that grew in front of the bungalow. aMc used to watch him for hours as he frisked about in the grass, pulling it with his fore paws for all the world like human It brought something of sweetness and light into Macs weary life.
 Proud of Dirt Mansion.
 The time came when the impulse to dig hole for himself made itself felt. Finnegan was not yet big enough to dig a deep hole, but he amused Mac with his great industry in making the dirt fly in all directions. Finally, he constructed one about two feet deep, and he seemed to be awful " proud of it. He would dart into 1t, and then turn around and peep out of its mouth, as if to say, See what smart doggie l am"
 1t was a carefree life that Finnegan ived, and he seemed to realize Macs kindness to him and to know he en joyed seeing him frisk about. Mac fed him well, and all who visited Mac's bungalow vied with each other in bringing him dainties. But the cold weather came, and there was no deep, deep hole, such as his parents would have dug, to keep Finnegan warm. In spite of warm bed, made in a box for him, Finnegan would whimper through the cold nights, Finally, on one occasion he got up in the middle of the night, climbed upon Macs bed and rooted his way under the cover. He snuggled up at Macs side and slept comfortably until morning.
 He Slept With Mac.
 That was the beginning. After that he insisted upon climbing into the bed when it grew cold, in spite of all Mac could do. As frequently it was very cold, Mac finally consented to let him remain in the bed with him when he persisted in doing so.
 So now Finnegan is dead. A post mortem examination showed he had contracted tuberculosis. Both his lungs were in shreds and other organs of the body were infected. But he lived more useful life than he would have had he remained on the prairie and destroyed the range for the cat tie. His race has been declared by legislative enactment to be an enemy of man. Finnegan was at least one mans friend.
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