Last year I read the story of a stolen elephant by Mark Twain and this year I was thinking why not a more handy pet this time, a little bit cuddly, a bit fluffy. Something more convenient to handle, without fear of being trampled down. There must be a tale on these pets too, by the American greats. I brooded over.
A piece of advice came. If you are looking for a pet that will be as happy to see you as you are to see them, a guinea pig you should consider. A guinea pig! oh, that sweet American rodent of the cavy family? Yes. Yes. The same. I opposed it. I think an American story is fine, an American author is also fine, but the pet, the pet should be something universal sort, you know! Which is found there and here too, so that I may feel a connection. Go for a dog then. This was the swift alternative recommendation.
And thus this tale appeared. A dog’s tale by Mark Twain. The narrator is a canine. And the tale begins with a bit of humor. It was expected by me that I was yet again on a chucklesome tale narrated by the lady dog this time. But Mark Twain surprised me and the story took a grisly turn. It was ghastly. And, ah! that poor animal! The mother dog! She softly mewls like a human baby for her baby in the end.
This is a story told by a dog and she introduced herself at the beginning that
“My father was a St. Bernard, my mother was a collie, But I am a Presbyterian. This is what my mother told me, I do not know these nice distinctions myself. To me, these are only fine large words meaning nothing”
A DOG’S TALE
This dog shares her story from childhood, her association with her mother, and how much she loved her. She narrates that all other dogs were envious of how her mother got her education because she was using those large words. She further reveals that her mother learned those words by listening in the dining room and drawing room and by listening to what children say when she went to Sunday -school with children. Her narration about her mother, in the beginning, is very hilarious and it will make you laugh. She says how her mother uses the synonymous big words and when a stranger looks profane, how they initiate slatting of the floor with their tails in unison and their faces transfigured with holy joy.
When she grew, she was sold and taken away from her mother and then they both were broken-hearted and cried. Then she talks about her new home and master. There was a baby of her master. And one day she also becomes a mother, her puppy comes into the world,
“By and by came my little puppy, and my cup was full, my happiness was perfect, it was dearest little waddling thing, and so smooth and soft and velvetty…”
One day the fire broke out in a nursery and this benevolent mother dog saves the baby of her master, first, she was beaten hard by the master as they felt she is the culprit behind the calamity. But when they later discovered that she had indeed saved the life of their baby, they realise their mistake and start worshipping her. Up to here, this story was rollicking fun, but after this, it turns morbid and the animal lovers will hate this tale for sure. I too detested the end of this tale. I took pity on this mother dog, but her master whose baby she has saved from the fire did not have mercy, they were too much human, so-called intellectual beings who feel that for their scientific experiments they can do anything with an animal.
Mark Twain has written this tale in his familiar humor and finally, he has been able to give a message in an emotive wind-up, by ending this tale in a heart-rending manner. In the end, these words of the servant of the house to this poor mother dog will reverberate in your head for long, I am sure.
“Poor little doggie, you saved his child.”
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