How many a one has come away from a dog show utterly disgusted with perhaps one of the best looking dogs on the bench, who, after admiring its attractiveness in every detail, discovers on too near an approach to him that he possesses a snappy, vicious disposition?

I am perfectly well aware that due allowance must be made for the unnatural excitement that surrounds a dog, perhaps for the first time shown, away from all he knows, and surrounded by strange noises and faces.  Yet I consider it an outrage on the public who give their time and pay their money, to subject them to any risk of being bitten by any dog, I care not of what breed it may be.  At a recent show in Boston, in company with three or four gentlemen, I was admiring a very handsome looking Boston, a candidate for high honors, when his owner called out to me:  “Mr. Axtell, do not go too near him or he will bite your fingers off.”  I replied:  “You need not advise an old dog man like me; I can tell by the look of his eye what he would do if given a chance.  You have no right whatever to show such a dog.”  Since then I went to the kennels where a noted prize winner is placed at public stud, and he showed such a vicious disposition and attempt to bite through the bars of his pen that the attendant had to cover the bars over with a blanket.  Such dogs as these should be given at once a sufficient amount of chloroform and a suitable burial without mourners.  If a man must keep such a brute, then a strong chain and a secure place where his owner alone can visit him is absolutely imperative.

Boston terriers, of all breeds, must possess perfect dispositions if they are to maintain their present popularity; and yet, how many unscrupulous breeders and dealers are palming off upon a confiding public dogs which, instead of being “put away” (I think that is the general term they use) should be put under so much solid mother earth that no one would suspect their interment.  I know it takes considerable grit and force of character to cheerfully put to sleep a dog for which perhaps a large sum of money has been paid, that has developed an uncertain, snappy disposition, yet it pays so to do; honesty is not alone the best policy, but the only one.  In my experience as a dog man I could give many personal incidents concerning the sale of vicious dogs, but for space sake one must suffice.

Last year a Chicago banker sent me an order for a dog similar in style and disposition to the one I had sold him a few years previously, to go to his niece, a young lady staying for treatment at a large sanatorium in southern Massachusetts.  I replied that I had not in my kennels a large enough dog to suit, but that I knew a dealer who possessed a fairly good reputation who had, and would get him for him if he would run the chances.  This was satisfactory, and I bought the dog.  He was guaranteed to me as all right in every way, but I felt somewhat suspicious, as the price was very low for a dog of his style.  I kept him with me for a week and saw no outs whatever about him, and practically concluded my suspicions were unfounded.