A Striking Instance of a Dog’s Affection.

Several years ago a lady in this place gave to one of Mr. J. T. Owens’ children a poodle dog, which proved to be a very affectionate creature, and from its first entering the house it became very fond of Mrs. Owen.  It was always playful and delighted in nothing so much as being noticed, receiving the caresses of visitors as gladly as a child, and gifted with reason.

During the protracted illness of Mrs. Owen the little pet would, at meal time, go to its mistress to be fed, where it received its meals regularly from her hand.  During the last few days of Mrs. Owens’ illness, when she was unable to give it the accustomed attention, it was noticed even by those who had been visiting the house that “Bessie” had lost her spirit of playfulness and looked dejected.  When her mistress died on the 28th of April last, Bessie took a position under her bed, and when her body was placed in the coffin, she then changed her position and remained under the coffin until the remains were taken from the house.  For days afterward she clung to that room, lying in a chair beside the bed, and although she had never been known to get on a bed before, she would, after the death of her mistress, jump on the bed and scratch down the cover, evidently hunting for her best and lost friend, refusing most of the time to eat for days at a time, eating so little that it seemed she must necessarily die from starvation.  Occasionally she made an effort to rally, but would, in a short time, relapse into the same state of gloom and despondency.  For the last few weeks she has almost entirely abstained from food, until she became a living skeleton.  On last Sunday morning when the family arose and opened the door, little “Bessie” crawled from her comfortable bed on the back piazza and softly crept into the room of her young mistress and stretched herself upon the floor under the foot of the bed and died without a struggle.  Her actions from the day she lost her mistress showed plainly that she was grieving deeply, and called forth much tender sympathy, and added grief to those who already had their full load to bear, but who had reason to support them.  Is this instinct, or is it not akin to reason?

“My loss cannot be repaired,
My life is nothing to me.”