The Birmingham age-herald., 1921-06-11
M E N, w o M E N
 A ND T H TN G s

Julius Caesar is dead "Yes, you say, but why drag him in after he has been dead such long time. for did rot Shakespeare call attention to the fact that: Imperial Caesar, dead and turned
 to clay,
 Might stop hole to keep the wind
 away"
 may not have given the immortal hard of Avon's exact words. but having no way to verify them at hand, I just give the sense. read about his death. l sec it enacted on the stage, but living around POGO years after the event, I do not get very excited about it
 But Thursday night a namesake of his, just . wee, little doggie, which happened to have wormed his way into the hearts of me and mine, was run over by an automobile and his cries wrung my heart and for the time being turned my home into a house of mourning, and every one of us is sad because of his tragic death.
 was sitting out on the front porch reading The Age-Herald, when I heard a cry, and then the oiteous yelp of a dog in distress and, on looking up, I saw a car speeding up the hill and across the street a little dog panting for it's life, and all the joy Of the day went out, for I knew that the pet of my family was pass ing away and that his merry bark would never again welcome me home on my return from downtown.
 A few years back the same thing had happened, and we resolved then at the killing of "Woily" by a truck that we would never again allow dog to worm his doggish ways about our hearts; but along came my hrother-in-law, the greatest lover of dogs I have ever known, with the cutest French poodle that ever saw, and asked that we give it home for a while, well knowing that in the end it meant adoption.
 We made a half hearted attempt to get rid of Julius Caesar, and whoever named him was either a humorist or wholly devoid of it, for he in winter with his hairy coat looked more like my lady's huff than a dog; and when sheared in summer with fluffed ears and shaggy tail and clipped body looked more like a glorified cater pillar than a canine. but he needn't have worried. for. we all knew that he was to become permanent mem Der of the household
 I think he won his place in my affections on account of his not be- ing a mans dog at all, but just born and brought up to be the companion Of his mistress, a veritable creation for the boudoir. He lived in the house. and rarely got as far as the sidewalk. It was thought wonder full that the other afternoon he had actually chased little Shetland pony. He had never been known to run after an automobile.
 His whole little doggie's heart was poured into the lap of his mistress He submitted rather indifferently to the caresses of me and the boys, but he just adored my wife. never saw such devotion. If she moved from one room to another he followed in her wake. If she went on the veran- ds he was at her heels; when she climbed the stairs he was only one step in the rear; trip to the kitchen meant that he was at her side. If ever a door closed between them he was joyously thankful to anyone who opened it in order that he might find her.
 There was only one way in which he showed the slightest interest in me. Somehow he learned the private whistle which I used to announce to my boys my home coming. and go at night. even in the winter with doors shut and windows down, when I gave the whistle on reaching the crest of the hill his keen little ears were the first to pick it mp and all knew by his bark that was approaching, and he always ran to the door to meet me but on getting inside would go and lay at the feet of his mistress.
 He was jealous little animal. Just the night before his death I went over and petted my wife to see what he would do and he resented, it with all his dosgish nature and parked at me furiously until quit. can't fathom it. but somehow in his canine way he felt that she belonged to him and that it wasn't right for any one else to take liberties with her. If she showed me special favor he would got furious.
 I went over to where he lay and picked him up gently and took him back into the garden and laid him in the strawberry patch while dug a grave for him beneath the shade of a walnut tree. dug it deep and covered it high, hoping that the city would let him lie close to those who loved him. He wasn't much bigger than your two fists and am sure