Sheila and Others/Considering Keddo
CONSIDERING KEDDO
JANET was not long at Edmonton visiting her cousin, the wife of the cigar manufacturer, before something told her to return to Ontario. I never asked her what. Life does finally teach us a few things. My general impression was that it might be ascribed to those excessive temperatures our Edmonton friends indulge in and are so plausible about. Janet never could endure cold weather.
She brought us a souvenir match-holder as a present. It had long buckskin streamers ornamented with big red and blue beads, the kind the Indians out there affect as a foil to their dusky complexions. I accepted it with becoming gratitude, inly wondering if it offered sufficient basis for opening up overtures as to a possible re-engagement of Janet.
We had always liked Janet. At her best, she excelled. At her worst, she was still endurable. But her virtues were of the unstable kind that tend to veer with the weather-vane of feelings, and I well knew that too ready a show of eagerness for her re-instatement would be disastrous to future success. So I felt the ground a little, toying with the bead matchbox in my hand, and gently leading up to the point by inquiring after her immediate prospects. She showed no readiness to follow my opening. She hadn't decided jest what she'd do. She was thinkin' some of the dress-makin'. Her cousin-in-law's sister thought she could do fine at it, but it had always give her a crick between the shoulders to set all day, an' she didn't know yet.
I had just murmured, "Yes, I see," in an abstracted sort of way, when Keddo burst into the room after his exuberant fashion and jumped impetuously into my lap.
"He-e-e-e-," cried Janet in a rising crescendo of admiring ecstasy, addressing Keddo. Remembering her passion for pets, I put Keddo through his small repertoire of tricks, winding up with the engaging little paw-shake he is so irresistible about. That clinched the matter, I could hardly get Janet out of the house, and two days after, she rang up to say that if I was wantin' anybody, she'd come, adding handsomely, that there wasn't no other place she'd care to go to.
Keddo was altogether a very jolly little affair. Janet was by no means his only benefaction to us. He brimmed with good-cheer and radiated happiness. These are valuable contributions to the general good of society, perhaps the most valuable any of us can make.
I remember when the idea that we should have a dog was first broached to us by a sanguine friend who had seen and succumbed to Keddo's personal charms. A family council was called and the decision reluctantly arrived at that we couldn't take the risk. A dog in the summer is all very well, we said, but what about the winter with all the perils of city streets, and the objections of the neighbors? No, it was clearly too great a responsibility.
This decision was reached on a gusty day in August and late in the afternoon when the wind showed signs of subsiding, we took the skiff and rowed over to town to get the mail, and incidentally tell the O'Brady's not to hold the puppy for us any longer.
What was left of the gale came on us in full force just as we rounded the corner of the O'Brady's makeshift landing, and we found ourselves bumping up and down in uncomfortable juxtaposition with the rotting logs that comprised it, while I screamed out the information to Mrs. O'Brady, who had hastily arrived on the scene.
Whether she mistook the drift of my remarks, or not, I cannot say, but I saw rather than heard her issue command to the biggest of the four bare-legged O'Brady offspring, that had followed her to the "slip" to see what was going on. In less time than it takes to relate, bare-legs No. 1 (who rejoiced in the grandiloquent title of Aubrey) reappeared with a wriggling, fuzzy-wuzzy, brown ball in her arms which was immediately seized by her active mother and unceremoniously dropped into our skiff during one of the lunges which lifted us high up against the log.
"But we decided after all that wouldn't—" I began.
But Mrs. O'Brady was forehanded, giving us a vigorous "send-off" from the shore, she shouted,
"Take 'im along wid ye, anyhow, an', if yeh don't want 'im, yuhs c'n bring 'im back."
There seemed nothing for it under these agitating circumstances but to obey her instructions and depart, especially as Mrs. O'Brady herself disappeared up the path with astonishing celerity followed by all four pair of the sun-burnt legs. Only a few bedraggled-looking chickens remained to witness our discomfiture, and even these emitted strange, eruptive noises of a warning character as if we intended them bodily harm.
As we pulled off, the occasion of all this flurry and of my very serious doubts, cast a pair of fetching brown eyes up at me in a knowing sort of way as if to ask what we were going to do next.
Then, with his eyes still on me trying the effect, he started in on a good-sized whimper, which expanded into a series of yaps steadily increasing in volume and intensity until as we passed the Portland cottage, I felt that we were laying ourselves open to a charge of cruelty to animals, if not of actual murder. Alternate cuffings and coaxings administered with ever decreasing effect, brought us finally and thankfully to the home dock. When the soft bundle of wobbly puppy-dog was lifted to the wharf, a shapely but disconsolate nose was turned heaven-ward, and ear-splitting sounds of lamentation pierced the evening air, that must have evoked wonder and alarm within a radius of at least two miles. The stay-at-home members of our household hastened to the dock.
"Why, whatever—" the first arrival began, but was drowned out by a renewed freshet of vociferation from the pup, who was not so far gone but that he could spare an eye for observing the effect upon her.
"I thought you weren't going to—" I caught between the deafening yaps while the disturber of our peace took breath.
"I wasn't," I shouted in reply, "but I couldn't help myself."
This was at 7.15 p.m. At 7.30 the jolliest, most contented little puppy-dog you ever saw was trotting around our verandas wagging his absurd shred of a tail at every step from sheer exuberance of joy. He had discovered a new world, and adopted it for his own in a manner coincident with the highest degree of philosophic intelligence. His delight in his new acquaintances was reciprocated by every member of the family except one—the black kitten, who regarded his advent with marked disfavor, revealing depths of rancor and disaffection hitherto unsuspected by the devoted household. Fortunately, her aversion appeared to be unnoticed by the new-comer, whose irradiation of happiness was so complete that it embraced everything and everybody that came near him. Even when his jubilant tail was accidentally stepped on, the solitary yelp of pain that followed gave instant place to demonstrations of forgiveness and joyous overtures of renewed affection.
Thus was Keddo's entry into the family bosom made secure. There were still rocks ahead, to be sure, but the will to overcome them had been established and that is the point of paramount importance in all undertakings. Keddo had won his place for himself chiefly by his confidence in it, and in our intentions toward him. Every self-respecting dog has "folks" back of him as a matter of course, somebody to love and belong to, his attitude seemed to say; we were his, and that was the sum of the matter. The tie was further strengthened by his absolute joy in it and his spontaneous devotion to us singly and collectively. None but a Prussian could have resisted him. Everybody liked him, everybody made friends with him. The very passers-by on the street (after his advent in Toronto) stopped to point him out. "Oh, there he is. Ain't he cute, now?" one not infrequently overheard, while the object of their admiration reclining on the top step with the nonchalant air of the possessor, would incline his silky head sidewise the better to listen, and look his inquiring prettiest. He was cordial to all, but reserved his most engaging manners, as well as his personal devotion for his own family, a procedure that might well be recommended for the consideration of some who undoubtedly would rate themselves much above him in the scale of philosophic superiority.
Keddo acquired city sophistication with remarkable ease. He was at home after about the second day, thoroughly entering into the spirit of the kaleidoscopic whirl going on about him. One experience of getting himself lost and found, sufficed to impress upon him the advantages of his own door-step, while his early and sadly misplaced confidence in the friendly disposition of motor-cars resulted in a chastened respect for the Unknown. His adventure with the car necessitated somewhat prolonged retirement to the comforting depths of the old clothes basket devoted to his use, and a tremulous appeal for the family sympathy always so readily forthcoming. But his greatest heights of awe and deference were reserved for the giants of his own species. A supercilious Great Dane that occasionally promenaded our street, and that could look through and beyond trembling Keddo in the most arrogant manner, filled him with agitated tremors and a decided feeling for the inside of the fence. On the other hand, and in marked contrast, was the cool indifference with which he received the calls of a would-be friend, much better pedigreed than himself, an aristocratic accessory of a St. George Street brown stone front. Unaware of social distinctions, and of his own sad deficiencies in this regard, Keddo showed but scant respect for his affectionate little visitor, whose devotion, like that witnessed in some higher ranges of society, seemed but to increase with indifference.
Indeed, it eventually reached such a climax that the timid devotee ventured to attach himself, at a respectful distance to be sure, to the family constitutionals when these included Keddo. Disaster overtook the venture, however, and as so often happens in a weary world, was out of all proportion to the offense. It so happened that on one most unfortunate occasion, the mistress of Keddo's uninvited guest was encountered taking her own constitutional in full plumage but without any small devoted canine attendant. Complications ensued. The lady was horrified. The family, that is to say our family, tried not to look guilty. The shrinking culprit deprecatingly offered affectionate overtures without success. Keddo alone remained unmoved by this dismal encounter, frisking joyously about, trying to keep everybody's spirits up because his own were unaffected.
The little St. George Street aristocrat appeared no more on our premises, nor ever barked again under the library window for Keddo of a Summer evening, after this unhappy contretemps, save once some weeks later when he turned up in a delirium of joy with a broken strap dangling from his silver collar. But even the pathos of this so obvious situation failed to move the stony heart of Keddo, who received him with all the old show of bored in difference.
It is not to be denied that Keddo occupied a place in the family esteem which neither his size nor his pedigree warranted. It is a testimony to the power of character. Keddo's character was unimpeachable, and his reliance upon ours unshakable. At least so was it in the beginning, and when I look back over the history of our intercourse, it becomes more and more painfully clear to me that any later deviation from the strict line of honesty on his part had its origin in us. Even so, he never resorted to prevarication, or the canine equivolent, subterfuge, save under extreme provocation, when the family demands seemed to him so erratic as to suggest positive aberration. Moreover, it was at one point only that he permitted himself any trifling with the truth, and that was after the injudicious disclosure to him that well-behaved doggies were sometimes allowed to accompany the family on the afore-mentioned constitutionals. This knowledge entirely changed life's aspect to him, rubbing off the tender bloom of early innocence.
After once grasping that fact, his days were devoted to nursing designs for the achievement of this intoxicating pleasure, and it was evident that he never again wholly lost those dark suspicions of our candor which perhaps were only too well founded.
An unfortunate experience of having once been shut in the kitchen while his divinity made good her escape, was responsible for this changed attitude towards life, lowering both his own standard of honor and his rating of ours. Henceforth, he watched our every movement, guarding the stair landings, agonizing at the front door, sure that somebody was going out into the bright world with intent to leave him behind. Sometimes he was humbly obedient with only an air of pained surprise when you told him you were going and couldn't take him. But there were other occasions when you detected in him from the first the deliberate and determined intention to go with you whether or no. Greater emphasis in your command only increased the non-committal air he assumed. You were already out on the street probably, having been anticipated at the gate by the ardent and overjoyed Keddo. So you had no alternative but to walk ruthlessly on, turning back now and then to stentoriously repeat the injunction to go home, sir, whereat Keddo would appear to have forgotten all about you and to be sauntering off on private affairs of his own on the other side of the street. Every time you looked, he was there still about half a block behind, gazing into somebody's driveway with a preoccupied air. If he caught your eye or tone, the distance between you widened slightly, but if you disappeared behind the doors of the Public Library say, an almost instant yelp outside, rising into agonized howls, roused everybody's startled attention and brought the blush of guilty consciousness to your cheek. Chastisement without was so humbly received and so evidently mitigated by gratitude for your reappearance, that you couldn't slap very hard in spite of your best efforts and well-justified wrath. After all, one cannot be so very angry with a little shrinking culprit whose chief offense rises out of his desire to be with you.
I became, I hope, a kinder, certainly a wiser person, because of knowing Keddo. I learned from him much more than he learned from me. By reason of him I realized something of what unconditional confidence is—a bridge upon which angels meet and pass, angels of kind intent and perfect understanding. I learned too, what a little gayety of disposition can achieve, coupled with consideration for other people's feelings. It is the emollient of life, the only real mitigation of the rasping "domestic dailiness" everyone aims to escape when he can. Keddo's undisguised joy in your companionship, his eager response to every suggestion, his engaging affection and happy whole heartedness put a sunbeam in your path. It was impossible not to take a brighter view of life in the radiance of his unquestioning enjoyment of it. He had the secret talisman of happiness, joy in what is, instead of heartburning for what is not and cannot be.
Another point that association with Keddo brought home to one was a sense of the possibilities that lie in straight dealing. Never having been "fooled" (save on that one unfortunate and inadvertent occasion of the kitchen episode), his confidence in us and desire to fulfill his own small obligations to us, were the uppermost motives of his existence. He lived but to please, and was heart-broken (for two minutes), if he failed in this or his good intentions were misconstrued. I remember once a boy visitor absorbed in a game brushed him indifferently aside. Keddo regarded him quietly for a moment and then running to his mistress, his adored, he thrust a small muzzle under her arm with an imploring look wherein hurt sensibilities were plainly struggling with the question: "Did I do something wrong?"
With neither power of speech nor of gesticulation, one is certainly handicapped in this world. I realized it when I considered Keddo. A tail, of course, is an expressive substitute, but it only transmits, it doesn't receive messages. Keddo and I found it hard sometimes to cross the gulfs that separated our worlds. He would sit opposite me respectfully and receptively, pause, look concerned, cock his pretty head on one side meditatively and finally jump up as if to say, "What a stupid game. It comes to nothing. Now let's play something else." Once an idea could be introduced into the active little brain, it was instantly seized and applied. As when he learned that one gave the right paw, never the left, in a hand-shake. Two minutes sufficed for this important fact to be made his own, and it was never forgotten, but for the most part there were no symbols by which to convey the idea.
It is hard to realize what a flood of light upon our own complex motives and impulses elementary intelligences can impart. It is almost startling. In Keddo's artless ways, one got a glimmer of inflections operative much higher up the scale. One was humbled by knowledge indirectly gleaned. His buoyancy, his trust, his spontaneous happiness—was it because he didn't know that his little spark of life lay between such great gulfs of darkness? Is knowledge then a deterrent and not to be wished for? One felt in the light of this small manufacturer of boundless happiness out of life's commonest furnishings, ashamed of one's own daily vintage of care and perplexities.
Some folk object to our canine retainers on the ground of their uselessness. I may have had some misgivings myself on this score before Keddo's day. Keddo was very useful. Besides holding Janet on the job, and irradiating the household with good cheer and jollity, he provided a much needed outlet for our suppressed faculty of command. We all require scope for this faculty which gets too little exercise after the children are grown up. Keddo provided it in our case. If didn't carry it so far as to hurt his feelings, he loved you all the more for ordering him about. The first time I heard the Master of the house sternly bidding him to lie down, sir, I knew his position in the family was secure. I knew it was good for the master to have something to be firm about domestically, too. It was also good for Keddo. Anyway, he accepted it as a part of the proper ordering of affairs, and wagged his tail more vociferously at the master's latchkey than almost anybody's, which was a very good idea too.
Not by any means the least of Keddo's useful little ways was his firm devotion to Janet at meal-time. Solitary meals for the maid has always seemed to me the weakest spot in our domestic ordering, a thing unwholesome and unnatural. One gets hardened to it as one does to all the other anomalies of our social maladjustment, but never reconciled. When I was obliged to go to the kitchen one day at Janet's lunch-hour, and saw confiding, eager little Keddo industriously sitting up at her side soliciting a bite, I inwardly rejoiced. It might be bad for his digestion, but I knew it was good for hers. I never heard her cheerful, high-pitched, "He-e-e-e-" sounding about the house, without a grateful sense that Keddo's discrimination between us was along the humanistic lines of affection, not the artificial and inhibiting ones of social standing.