PETER MAKES GOOD AND STORIES OF OTHER DOGS

by GERTRUDE THOMAS

With Twenty Full-Page Illustrations by DOROTHY SAUNDERS

BECKLEY-CARDY COMPANY, Publishers CHICAGO

Copyright, 1929, by Beckley-Cardy Company All Rights Reserved Printed in the United States of America

PETER MAKES GOOD

A DOG FAMILY

The Coleman family were in possession of a roly-poly, fuzzy, brown-and-white pup named Peter, called Pete for short. Peter was a combination of several breeds of dogs. He had good and bad relations on both sides of the house, but his nearest kin, which were, of course, his father, Shep, and his Scotch collie mother, Susie, were very worthy dogs. They were not quarrelsome nor dishonest, lived peaceably with the house cat, and never tortured a rabbit before they killed it. Indeed, in all dogdom Susie and Shep were considered honorable citizens.

It was on account of this excellent record of the parent dogs that these good people were wanting ones of their likely offspring. They felt sure that a member of a family so worthy would grow up to be a useful dog.

Susie had tried to train Pete to be polite, [6]and to observe the Golden Rule in his conduct toward cats and other animals less fortunate than himself. His father had given him a cuff on the side of the head when he found him running off with Betty’s shoe, and told him that “dogs who wished to grow up into leading citizens in dogdom didn’t steal young ladies’ shoes and chew the toes off them.” Then he made Pete take the shoe to his mistress, lay it at her feet, and wag his tail in apology.

In this way, these parents tried to instill into their son all the good principles they could before he should go out into the wide, wide world. In Pete’s case, this meant being taken in a basket to his new home at Coleman’s.

Pete’s parting with his home folks was pathetic. All that week he was favored above his brothers and sisters. The day before his departure, his father, Shep, took him slyly aside and whispered in his ear, “Follow me, but do not let even your mother know about it.”

[7]

Peter Learns a Lesson

[8]So Pete watched his chance and, when Susie was taking her afternoon nap and others were playing tag, he sniffed about until he took up the trail to the garden. There he saw his dad digging in the ground. Finally Shep unearthed a well seasoned bone. What a treat Pete was to have, in being allowed to dine with his father off one end of that juicy, earth-flavored bone! There was no criticism of his table manners. What if he did fill his mouth too full and make a noise when he ate? Nothing was said about it, which was unusual, for his dad was a stickler for correct eating. Another time Pete would have been sent away from the feast, had he been greedy and asked for a third helping, but to-day, how different! For once he was allowed to put both paws on that sweet bone and to gnaw and gnaw, while his dad stood off smiling approval.

Peter wished there was no wide world to go out into. Why, he was just beginning to get along well at home. His brothers and sisters envied him, and what satisfaction he got out of having them all jealous of him—so nearly human was this little piece of dog flesh. The [9]other pups’ eyes fairly bulged and turned green when they saw Susie tucking him tenderly in, the night before he was to leave his home.

How fondly she licked him, paying particular attention to his ears, to make sure they were clean. Now these very ears were always a source of dispute at other times. Many a cuffing Pete had received when they would not bear inspection. But to-night how gentle was her touch, what pathos in her whine, as she bade him good night! Susie was going through a crisis, such as comes to every mother when her family circle is broken, and one of her beloved ones goes out from the home nest. She wanted him to be an honor to her and his father. Would he?

We shall see.

PETER’S NEW HOME

The next day Peter was transported to his new home. So great was the excitement over making the change, that many things Susie had intended to say to him in the way of good advice were forgotten. With a great lump in her throat, which mothers are apt to have on such occasions, she bade him good-by forever.

After the thrill of his first ride in an automobile, Pete arrived at his new home, where he was greeted by his new master and mistress. They were a pair of chubby youngsters of four and five years, who looked enough alike to be twins. There being only one year’s difference in their ages accounted for this.

Their names were Mabel and Ralph. Both had brown eyes, and their hair was almost the color of Peter’s coat. They were delighted to see Peter, with his brown eyes and his coat of brown and tan, so soft and fuzzy. They laughed at his funny little tail. And his silken [11]ears—as the little girl rubbed one of them against her cheek, Peter gave a sigh of relief because they were clean.

This episode of the ears reminded him of home and his mother, just as other sons who have left home for the first time have had their memories of their mothers jogged. Peter gulped down the lump that came into his little throat; he must be brave. That was one of the things Shep had emphasized in his advice. He had said, “Bravery is the greatest asset for a dog.”

After each of the children had had a good “snuggle” at him, he was given his dinner on a beautiful blue plate, all his own. This was nice, but in all his life he had never before eaten alone. How could he eat, with no one to push and crowd him, and no dad to tell him when he had had enough? When he took a mouthful of really good bread and gravy, it almost choked him. Then, those wide-eyed youngsters were watching every bite he ate, making him feel so self-conscious that he simply could not remember his table manners. He put his paws [12]on his plate, and made a noise chewing his food. At home, every scrap was eaten, and the plate cleaned in a tidy way, ready for the next meal. His orderly mother would have been ashamed of him, if she could have seen the mess he was making of this, his first meal in his new home.

A survey of the premises was next in order. He was shown his bedroom, which was a box on the back porch. It was large enough for him to stretch out in and be very comfortable. It looked about right, but it lacked the “homey” odor of his former bed. It was too fresh and clean.

Then Pete had his first touch of homesickness. These youngsters were all right, as youngsters go, but they were not to be compared for company to a family of rollicking puppies. What did they know about a game of tug-of-war with an old sock, or of ball with a lump of coal, and other delightful dog games? With a contemptuous shrug of his shoulders, he went on with his investigations.

Out on the window sill, where the sun shone [13]warmly, was something that attracted his attention. Going closer to see more clearly, he observed a creature which was something new to him. It seemed to be a bundle of fuzzy fur, with a head at one end, and something at the other end that looked a little like the feather duster the puppies used to play with at home.

The head was loose, too, for now it was turning. It opened two eyes, and then a mouth, and yawned. All at once, something happened. Down the creature pounced, right on Pete’s back. He was still uncertain what it was, until it began to spit and snarl. As all cats snarl and spit about alike, Pete knew it must be some kind of a cat, but how different from the cats which he had known. All his former cat acquaintances had worn sleek coats with spots or striped, and they had had long, slim tails, or no tails at all. A Manx cat he had known had no tail.

Fluff, for that was the cat’s name, was as much astonished as Peter was, at what she was encountering. This was something unlike anything [14]she had ever seen before. Something told her it was akin to her old enemy, the dog, but how harmless this one seemed! Nothing but the wag of his ridiculous little tail was at all doglike.

They surveyed each other for a while. Then Peter remembered his mother’s advice about following the Golden Rule with cats, especially when the cat had the advantage, as was the situation now. Turning, he ran back to his bedroom for a nap, as so much excitement had wearied him.

Hopping into his box, he turned around twice before he lay down. Soon he was asleep. When he awoke, it was dark. Where was he? Nosing around, he could find no bedfellow, nothing that was familiar, and then he realized how homesick he was. He wanted his mother and he began to cry.

[15]

Peter Sees Fluff for the First Time

[16]Upstairs somewhere, awake in a snug, warm bed, lay a little boy. He heard that pitiful cry, and felt his own little heart ache with pity for the baby dog. He listened for a while. Then, unable to stand it any longer, he slipped out of bed. Tiptoeing his way, so that no one would hear him, the boy went out on the cold back porch to the puppy. Taking Pete under his warm bathrobe, he slipped as quietly back to bed. The puppy was “snuggled” in Ralph’s arms, and soon dog and boy were fast asleep. Thus a bond of affection was established between these two that proved lasting and true, as we shall see.

The better acquainted Peter got with his new friends, the better he liked them, especially the boy and the girl. With the latter, however, he felt as if he were not in full favor. She seemed to prefer petting that presumptuous, fluffy cat, rather than him. He was not quite sure, but he thought he overheard some such conversation as this between them:

“Fluffy, you must be nice to our new puppy. You know he is only a little doggie.”

There was considerable emphasis laid on the “only.” For some reason which Pete did not stop to analyze, he determined he would show [17]this pair, the girl and the cat, a few things, when he ceased to be “only a little doggie,” and became a real dog.

Life at this new home was very pleasant for Pete. The little boy and he had so much fun, that he soon forget the home he had left. He never knew how his mother missed him, for, although more puppies came to bless and cheer her heart, still she could never forget Pete.

GETTING ACQUAINTED

The Coleman children went to school every day. The maid went with them across the street, and called for them when they were to return. This left Pete and the cat at home together. They were not getting on very well. Fluff was haughty and disdainful, and she was entirely too free with her claws, which Pete soon learned she hid from sight in those soft, insinuating paws of hers.

After a while Peter became more and more venturesome. Peering through the back fence to see what was going on across the way, he saw the home of the aristocratic Boston bull that Fluff feared. Pete would stand with his nose through the fence, watching and learning just how a grown-up dog did act, and he wondered if he would ever grow up to do those wonderful things.

One day he saw that majestic creature catching flies. Sitting in front of his kennel, the Boston bull would wait until a fly would light on his nose. Then, after giving his head a shake [19]to shoo it off, he would snap it up. This was interesting to Pete. He decided to try it.

He went off and lay down. He waited a while, pretending to be asleep, but keeping one eye open. At last he heard a buzzing sound. Some kind of flying creature was near. It was aiming for a seat on his nose. Now, a shake, a snap—he had it! How thrilling! He would try it again, but it would not be necessary to keep even one eye open. He closed both. Buzz-z-z-z! Another fly was coming. Still as a mouse Pete lay waiting. Then all at once Pete let out a piercing yelp. The fly had proven to be a bee. Pete was stung! After the first shock was over, he thought of something else his father had told him. He had said always to keep one eye on every venture. Pete resolved not to get stung again.

The days sometimes seemed very long to Pete. The cat couldn’t or wouldn’t play. She liked sunning herself in a lazy fashion on the window sill. He must find some other means of diversion.

[20]When the laundress was hanging up the clothes to dry, he would help by taking the clothespins in his mouth and handing them to her. Sometimes some hidden trait in his make-up prompted him to take toll of the clothespins when the laundress was not looking. No doubt this was an echo from some of those inferior relations on one or the other side of his ancestral house. Still, it was a natural tendency, as all dogs like to chew clothespins. It sharpens their teeth.

Pete was getting braver and braver every day, and was learning more and more about his new home. By keeping his eyes open and watching the behavior of other dogs, he was developing into an intelligent pup. He and Ralph were real pals, and what the dog was not able to find out for himself, the boy would teach him, and Pete’s devotion to his teacher was marvelous.

When the children started for school, Pete would follow at their heels until the curb was reached. In the afternoon he would watch until [21]the maid returned with them. Then one morning they had to go alone. When they hesitated at the street crossing, Pete ran out in the middle of the street and barked in front of all the oncoming cars, thus holding up the traffic until Ralph and Mabel were safely across. In the afternoon he watched for them and repeated the performance.

One morning, when he had seen the children safely across, he discovered that Mabel had lost her book. Dodging in front of a big truck, he seized the book in his mouth and ducked just in time to keep from getting struck. Then he raced after the children to deliver the book to its little owner.

The pup grew in grace and charm, as well as wisdom. His fuzzy covering was gone, and with it had vanished many of his puppy ways. He had grown into a fine looking dog. One could scarcely recognize the little woolly pup in this beautiful brown, shading into tan, animal. He had a natty white vest and one white forefoot. His tail curled over his back like a plume; but [22]his greatest charm was his eyes. They were brown and amber now, and they almost twinkled with intelligence when he was spoken to.

Ralph was very proud of him, and entered him in all the dog shows, although Pete never won any medals, because of his lack of pedigree. Had a prize been given for real worth and good character, he would have carried off the blue ribbon, for Pete was well raised and had good training.

Some pedigreed animals, and some pedigreed people are snobbish and rude. Such was the case with the Boston bull on the other side of the fence, and with some others in this exclusive neighborhood. This was brought forcibly to Pete’s attention one morning. After he had piloted the children across the street, on returning to his own curb, he heard loud barking around the corner. Curious to know what was the cause of it all, he ran in the direction of the noise.

Imagine his surprise and indignation at what [23]he saw! Up a tree, just beyond the reach of their upturned noses, was Fluff, Mabel’s cat, driven there by three of the aristocrats, and held at bay by their, to her, bloodcurdling yelps. The Boston bull seemed to be in charge. His confederates were a prize-winning Airedale, with a pedigree reaching back through countless generations, and a German police dog, whose ancestors had been trained to torment French prisoners, away back during the Franco-Prussian war. With murderous motives these three had Fluff surrounded when Pete appeared on the scene.

Without stopping to consider that he was apparently outmatched, Pete sprang at their heels, snapping and biting first one and then another, until he had their attention drawn from the cat. Then he started to run, with the three in pursuit. This was what he wanted. By keeping several jumps ahead of them, he got to his own door just as someone was coming out, and he bounded inside. Meantime Fluff had not let any grass grow under her feet; she had arrived at the back door first. Once inside, she did a very unusual thing. Approaching Pete, she rubbed her sides against his legs, purring her thanks; and she never forget this act of gallantry which he had performed for her. There may have been no blue blood in this dog, but this episode proved that there were no yellow streaks.

[24]

Fluff and the Three Aristocrats

[25]Ralph was growing into a big boy, and was engaged in the activities and sports that the average boy of his age enjoys. He was a member of the Boy Scouts, and of the “Sand Lot Ball Team”; but his love for Peter was as great as ever. He always wanted his dog with him in his sports, and Pete, appreciating this, proved himself a boon companion.

Any game that Pete did not sanction by a smile and a wag of his tail was not entered into with much zest. When a game with a competing team was scheduled to come off, it was talked over with Pete somewhat in this fashion:

“Well, old pal, what do you think about it? Are we going to win? You know Bud Sanders, [26]Pete—he’s one of their best pitchers; but of course our team can show something just as good. If you say so, we will beat them.”

Then Pete would stretch out, yawn, and make a noise that Ralph always knew meant either yes or no; it all depended on the expression of the dog’s countenance when he made it. If the prediction were favorable for their team, boy and dog would start for the diamond, full of enthusiasm.

Pete would enter into the spirit of the game along with the boys, and would watch the ball with quivering excitement, when Ralph sent it flying and made a home run. Before Jack could bring it back, Pete seemed to know just where that ball dropped to earth, and would beat the boys to it, bringing it to the pitcher and dropping it at his feet.

Sometimes an argument would start on the field of combat, and Ralph would be surrounded by a loud-mouthed, fist-shaking squad. Pete would edge his way through and take a position near his master, wag his tail [27]slowly, and listen intently, as if asking what it was all about, and weighing the pros and cons. Ralph would reach down, pat him on the head and ask, “Which way was it, old pal?”

Not always were the other boys willing to take Pete’s decision, and the matter might be left to the referee; but always Pete stood valiantly by his master in every matter.

By this time the bull dog next door had learned to have more respect for Peter. A boy about Ralph’s age had come to live with his master and mistress. He was a nice boy, and he and Ralph were very good friends. Both were good scouts and, as they were together a great deal, the dogs, after a few encounters, learned to endure, if not to like, one another.

They accompanied the boys on hikes and, one day, when the boys and their two dogs were going gaily through the woods, kicking up the dry leaves, Pete, the younger and more active dog, ran on ahead and out of sight of the boys. Soon they heard a great barking. Hurrying along, they found Pete pawing and stamping [28]in an attempt to put out a fire that was just starting from a cigarette, which had been carelessly thrown among the dry leaves.

The boys finished extinguishing the fire, and then turned their attention to Pete, whose feet were burned. They knew the burns must be extremely painful. Feeling very sorry for the dog, and full of enthusiastic admiration for his splendid courage, they made a litter for him, such as they would have made for one of their own scout comrades. The boys carried Pete home, and the bull dog kept close to his master’s heels, so as not to be left entirely out.

Peter’s mother, Susie, would have been very proud if she had known her son was the means of saving the countryside from a destructive fire.

Shep, no doubt, would have said, “I knew Pete would amount to something.”

Reaching home, the boys treated Pete’s sore feet with a healing salve and made him comfortable.

[29]

Peter Tries to Put Out a Fire