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Show fTTLE Creek This being National Dog Week, it may not be amiss to devote a few paragraphs in this week's epistle to 'the origin and development develop-ment of "Man's Best Friend." If the number of canines running and cavorting about the streets and byways of Battle Creek ds 'any indication, in-dication, dog lovers hereabouts must be more in the majoiity than the hound-haters. As for ourselves, we can take 'em or leave 'em. In fact, we belong to that small minority min-ority of neutrals who can let "sleeping dogs lie." Much water has run down the creek since the caveman first picked pick-ed up a wolf or dingo cub, carried him to the hole in the rock and began the long process of domestication. domes-tication. To begin with, a natural covenant cov-enant developed between our squat low-browed progenitors and their half -wild, bushy-tailed, strong-jawed companions. The man provided shelter, warmth and a fairly constant con-stant meat supply. In recompense, the dog assisted during the hunt and sounded off at the approach of enemies, human or other an-im an-im als. No doubt for years uncounted, the dog was a working animal. He was a faithful servant to his master, mas-ter, earning his keep by valuable services performed. If he failed in this, a clout with a club or a stone axe ended the companionship companion-ship without further ado. In this crude but effective way the shiftless shift-less were effectively liquidated and only the efficient, devoted workers lived on to perpetuate their kind. As man became more civilized and depended in a lesser degree upon the fruits of the hunt, or chase, the services of the dog as an aid in providing the daily food supply became less important. In fact, in modern times man has largely become the servant to the dug. Ministering to his several needs is almost a full time vocation. voca-tion. Just catering to the comfort of our increasing canine population has become big business. Figures are not readily available at the moment, but supplying the needs of the American pooch miist run into the millions annually. There are jewel-studded collars, gold-plated gold-plated leashes, spring-filled couches, couch-es, monogram ed blankets, vitamin vita-min pills, flea eradicators and even deodorizing capsules. Dog doctors do a land office business in their swank pet hospitals; and when Fi-do Fi-do passes on to a just reward, his remains may be honorably interred in an exclusive dog cemetery, plus marble marker. How far things have gone was illustrated sometime back with a remark by one of our five-year-old neighborhood friends. In answer an-swer to the question, "What do you feed your dog?" he replied, "When Dad is working we feed him canned can-ned dog food; but when he ain't we just give him scraps and stuff." Thus it would seem that the comforts and emoluments bestowed bestow-ed upon man's best friends are directly proportional to the degree of prosperity enjoyed by their masters. mas-ters. As for us we currently do not feel ourselves affluent enough to enjoy the luxury of a sophisticated lap hound. So long 'til Thursday. |