Evening star., 1925-06-11
THIS AND THAT
BY CHARLES E. TRACEWELL.

four legged waits of Cincinnati
streets to pluck up courage to make
another attempt.
I'VE did succeed in having a private
shelter last Winter, but as 1t always
is dependent on a few people, and
these few are often limited as to time
and finances, we had to close 1t In the
Spring. probably mainly because of
lack of trustworthy attendants at the
shelter.
True, we have a dogpound, but I
have never gone there, although one
of our members visited 1t every week
and redeemed two dogs she selected.
and for which she always secured
good homes. I could not punish my
self to go with her. l would have
wished to take them all, and l knew
that could not be. 1 would have been
only more unhappy about them. That
was rather cowardly, perhaps, but it
is true. However, l am always car.
rying dogs home and caring for them
and placing them in homes where
know they are cared for.
over space / would consider 1t a
privilege to grasp the hand of a man
who by his pen can reach the hearts
of his readers with his own love for
our humble and loyal friend the dos
| and call attention to the daily possibili-
ward these dependents"
A. L. T. writes: 'It always interests
| me and gives me pleasure to read your
| articles on the editorial page of The
Star, and among the many referred 10
| which especially please me are your
articles about Jack Spratt, the cat,
and those dealing with the subject
| of kindness and love for animals.
II love cats myself, and I generally
| find that the affection Is returned, and
| l dare to fling down the gauntlet to
anybody who says that cats are with
out the nature to love and to appre-
| ciate those who show them true kind
ness and understanding. Sometimes
| fear, born of bad treatment, will make
cats turn on those who would help
| them. Well, are there not humans
who are bitter and suspicious of all
kindly advances because wretched eX-
| perience has led them to doubt that
good exists in the human heart?
| IT like the fine understanding way
| in which you write Of animals. and
| looked at my typewriter a few
minutes ago and 1 said to myself:
know l am a stranger to Mr.. Trace.
well, but no matter. / just feel that
I must thank him for what he says
l
also, 1 desire to extend my greetings
and a observation-disclosures to his ex.
| alted dignity, Jack Spratt.
Il am q Washingtonian born and
my span of life in this Capital City
| Is rendered more or less memorable
so far, by the sojourn in my family
circle of various pets. Dogs, cats,
birds. including those lovable fiends
called parrots. The list even includes
a prairie dog, which dug its way into
our city back yard, when we really
lived in a good old house with a
good old back yard, and nearly scared
our stately gray cat, Julius Caesar
into fits.
Also a mouse once made our home
his own and remained with us for
| six months. He was such a mite of
a shadow, coming and going, appear.
| ing and disappearing. that / christened
| him Peter Pan. He evinced his ap
probation of our never trying to trap
him, or hurt him, by saving the bits
of bread which we used to place in
a certain corner for him and hiding
them in our shoes. Peter Pan died, ]
| think, of acute Indigestion, as he
| finally refused plain bread altogether
when he could get cake.
| AS O child 1 used to play school
with caterpillars and harmless garden
denizens, marshaling them in rows
and 1 have been informed by aston
ished members of my family that ac
| tually, without even hurting the
smallest thing / handled, / somehow
managed to weirdly train them In a
dismissed them to their various
| backward homes