The Boston Terrier and All About It by Edward Axtell
The Boston Terrier and All About It by Edward Axtell
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Who and what is this little dog that has forced his way by leaps and bounds from Boston town to the uttermost parts of this grand country, from the broad Atlantic to the Golden Gate, and from the Canadian border to the Gulf of Mexico? Nay, not content with this, but has overrun the imaginary borders north and south until he is fast becoming as great a favorite on the other side as here, and who promises in the near future, unless all signs fail, to cross all oceans, and extend his conquests wherever man is found that can appreciate beauty and fidelity in man's best friend. What passports does he present that he should be entitled to the recognition that he has everywhere accorded him? A dog that has in 35 years or less so thoroughly established himself in the affections of the great body of the American people, so that his friends offer no apology whatever in calling him the American dog, must possess peculiar qualities that endear him to all classes and conditions of men, and I firmly believe that when all the fads for which his native city is so well known have died a natural death, he will be in the early bloom of youth. Yea, in the illimitable future, when the historian McCauley's New Zealander is lamenting over the ruins of that marvelous city of London, he will be accompanied by a Boston terrier, who will doubtless be intelligent enough to share his grief. In reply to the query as to who and what he is, it will be readily recalled that on the birth of possibly the greatest poet the world has ever seen it was stated:
"The force of nature could no further go,
To make a third, she joined the other two."
And this applies with equal force to the production of the Boston terrier. The two old standard breeds of world-wide reputation, the English bulldog and the bull terrier, had to be joined to make a third which we believe to be the peer of either, and the superior of both. The dog thus evolved possesses a type and individuality strictly his own, inherited from both sides of the house, and is a happy medium between these two grand breeds, possessing the best qualities of each. To some the name "terrier" would suggest the formation of the dog on approximate terrier lines, but this is as completely erroneous as to imagine that the dog should approach in like proportion to the bull type. When the dog was in its infancy it was frequently called the Boston bull, and then again the round-headed bull and terrier, and later, when the Boston Terrier Club was taken under the wings of the great A.K.C. in 1893, it became officially known as the Boston terrier.
There are several features that are characteristic of the dog that tend to its universal popularity-its attractive shape, style and size, its winning disposition, and its beautiful color and markings. From the bulldog he inherits a sweet, charming personality, quiet, restful demeanor, and an intense love of his master and home. He does not possess the restless, roving disposition which characterizes so many members of the terrier tribe, nor will he be found quarreling with other dogs. From the bull terrier side he inherits a lively mood, the quality of taking care of himself if attacked by another dog, and of his owner, too, if necessary, the propensity to be a great destroyer of all kinds of vermin if properly trained, and an ideal watch dog at night. No wonder he is popular, he deserves to be. The standard describes him as follows:
"The general appearance of the Boston terrier is that of a smooth, short-coated, compactly built dog of medium station. The head should indicate a high degree of intelligence and should be in proportion to the dog's size; the body rather short and well knit, the limbs strong and finely turned, no feature being so prominent that the dog appears badly proportioned. The dog conveys an impression of determination, strength and activity, style of a high order and carriage easy and graceful."
The men composing the Boston Terrier Club, who framed this standard in 1900, were as thoughtful a body as could possibly be gotten together, and they carefully considered and deliberated over every point at issue, and in my estimation this standard is as near perfect as any can be. I was an interested participant in the discussion of the same, having in my mind's eye as models those two noted dogs owned by that wonderful judge of the breed, Mr. Alex. Goode, Champion Monte, and his illustrious sire, Buster. If one takes the pains to analyze the standard he will be impressed by the perfect co-relation of harmony of all parts of the dog, from the tip of his broad, even muzzle, to the end of his short screw tail. Nothing incongruous in its makeup presents itself, but a graceful, symmetrical style characterizes the dog, and I firmly believe that any change whatever would be a detriment.
Franz J. Heilborn
Heilborn's Raffles
Edward Burnett
A Prominent Early Breeder
It seems to be hardly necessary at this late date to give a history of the dog, but perhaps for that large number of people who are intensely interested in him but have not had the chance to have been made acquainted with his origin, a brief survey may be of service. Although Boston rightly claims the honor of being the birthplace of the Boston terrier, still I think the original start of the dog was in England, for the first dog that was destined to be the ancestor of the modern Boston terrier was a dog named Judge, a cross between an English bull and bull terrier, imported from the other side and owned by Mr. R. C. Hooper, and known as Hooper's Judge.
On my last visit to England I found that quite a number of dogs have been bred in this way, viz., a first cross between the bull and terrier, especially in the neighborhood of Birmingham in the middle of England; but these dogs are no more like the Boston terrier than an ass is like a thoroughbred horse. Judge was a dark brindle, with a white stripe in face, nearly even mouthed, weighing about thirty-two pounds, and approximating more to the bull than the terrier side. He was mated to a white, stocky built, three-quarter tail, low stationed bitch, named Gyp (or Kate), owned by Mr. Edward Burnett of Southboro. Like Judge, she possessed a good, short, blocky head. It may not be out of place to state here that some few years ago, on paying a visit to Mr. Burnett at Deerfoot Farm, Southboro, he told me that in the early days he possessed thirteen white Boston terrier dogs that used to accompany him in his walks about the farm, and woe to any kind of vermin or vagrant curs that showed themselves. From Judge and Gyp descended Well's Eph, a low-stationed, dark brindle dog with even white markings, weighing twenty-eight pounds. Eph was mated to a golden brindle, short-headed, twenty pound bitch, having a three-quarter tail, named Tobin's Kate. From this union came a red brindle dog with a white blaze on one side of his face, white collar, white chest, and white feet, weighing twenty-two pounds, and possessing the first screw tail, named Barnard's Tom. I shall never forget the first visit I made to Barnard's stable to see him. To my mind he possessed a certain type, style and quality such as I had never seen before, but which stamped him as the first real Boston terrier, as the dog is today understood. I was never tired of going to see him and his brother, Atkinson's Toby. Tom was mated to a dark brindle bitch, evenly marked, weighing twenty pounds. She had a good, short, blocky head, and a three-quarter tail, and known as Kelley's Nell. The result of this mating was a dog destined to make Boston terrier history, and to my mind the most famous Boston terrier born, judged by results. He was known as "Mike," commonly called "Barnard's Mike." He was a rather light brindle and white, even mouthed, short tailed dog, weighing about twenty-five pounds, very typical, but what impressed me was his large, full eye, the first I had ever seen, and which we see so often occurring in his descendants. I owned a grandson of his named "Gus," 48136, who was almost a reproduction of him, with eyes fully as large. Unfortunately he jumped out of a third-story window in my kennels and permanently ended his usefulness. Chief among the direct descendants from Hooper's Judge were the noted stud dogs, Ben Butler, Hall's Max, O'Brien's Ross, Hook's Punch, Trimount King, McMullen's Boxer, and Ben, Goode's Ned, and Bixby's Tony Boy. The two dogs that impressed me the most in that group were Max, a fairly good sized, beautiful dispositioned dog that could almost talk, belonging to Dr. Hall, then a house doctor at the Eye and Ear Infirmary, Charles street. He was used, I am told, a great deal in the stud, and sired a great many more puppies than the doctor ever knew of. Bixby's Tony Boy was the other. I had a very handsome bitch by him out of a Torrey's Ned bitch, and liked her so much that I offered Mr. Bixby, I believe, $700 for Tony, only to be told that a colored gentleman (who evidently knew a good thing when he saw it) had offered him $200 more.
Of the line of early bitches of the same breeding may briefly be mentioned Reynold's Famous, dam of Gilbert's Fun; Kelley's Nell, dam of Ross and Trimount King; Saunder's Kate, dam of Ben Butler; Nolan's Mollie, dam of Doctor, Evadne and Nancy.
Quite a number of other small dogs were subsequently introduced into the breed, which had now been somewhat inbred. These were largely imported from the other side, and were similar in type to Hooper's Judge. One of the most noted was the Jack Reede dog. He was an evenly marked, reddish brindle and white, rather rough in coat, three-quarter tail, weighing fourteen pounds. Another very small dog was the Perry dog, imported from Scotland, bluish and white in color, with a three-quarter straight tail, and weighing but six pounds. I have always felt very sorry not to have seen him, as he must have been a curiosity. Still another outside dog, also imported, and very quarrelsome, white in color, weighing eighteen pounds, with a good, large skull, and an eye as full as Barnard's Mike, but straight tail, was Kelley's Brick. Another outside dog (I do not know where he came from), was O'Brien's Ben. He was a short, cobby, white and tan brindle color, three-quarter tail, with a short head and even mouth. It will be observed that practically all these outside dogs were small sized, and were selected largely on that account. By the continued inbreeding of the most typical of the sons and daughters of Tom, the present type of the dog was made permanent.
Barnard's Tom
Hall's Max
Champion Halloo Prince
Bixby's Tony Boy
Perhaps this somewhat restricted review of the breed, going back over thirty-six or seven years and showing the somewhat mixed ancestry of our present blue-blooded Boston terrier of today, may afford some explanation of the diversity of type frequently presented in one litter. I have seen numbers of litters where the utmost attention has been paid to every detail with the expectancy of getting crackerjacks, to find that one will have to wait for the "next time," as the litter in question showed the bull type, and the terrier also, and very little Boston; but fortunately, with the mating intelligently attended to, and the putting aside of all dogs that do not comport to the standard as non-breeders, a type of a dog will be bred true to our highest ideals. My advice to all breeders is, do not get discouraged, try, yes, try again, and Boston terriers, that gladden the eye and fill the pocketbook, will be yours.
From childhood, Stephanie knew she was not her parents' real daughter, but out of gratitude, she turned their business into a powerhouse. Once the true daughter came back, Stephanie was cast out-only to be embraced by an even more powerful birth family, adored by three influential brothers. The second ruled the battlefield. "Stephanie's sweet and innocent; she would never commit such crimes. That name on the wanted list is just a coincidence." And the youngest controlled the markets. "Anyone who dares bully my sister will lose my investment." Her former family begged for forgiveness-even on TV. Stephanie stood firm. When the richest man proposed, she became the woman everyone envied. The eldest ran the boardroom. "Cancel the meeting. I need to set up the art exhibition for my sister!" The town was turned upside down.
For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.
"Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress. With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap. Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell. On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered. When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling."
I was at my own engagement party at the Sterling estate when the world started tilting. Victoria Sterling, my future mother-in-law, smiled coldly as she watched me struggle with a cup of tea that had been drugged to ruin me. Before I could find my fiancé, Ryan, a waiter dragged me into the forbidden West Wing and locked me in a room with Julian Sterling, the family’s "fallen titan" who had been confined to a wheelchair for years. The door burst open to a frenzy of camera flashes and theatrical screams. Victoria framed me as a seductress caught in the act, and Ryan didn't even try to listen to my pleas, calling me "cheap leftovers" before walking away with his pregnant mistress. When I turned to my own family for help, my father signed a document severing our relationship for a five-million-dollar payout from Julian. They traded me like a commodity without a second thought. I didn't understand why my own parents were so eager to sell me, or how Ryan could look at me with such disgust after promising me forever. I was a sacrifice, a pawn used to protect the family's offshore accounts, and I couldn't fathom how every person I loved had a price tag for my destruction. With nowhere left to go, I married Julian in a bleak ceremony at City Hall. He slid a heavy diamond onto my finger and whispered, "We have a war to start." That night, inside his secret penthouse, I watched the paralyzed man stand up from his wheelchair and activate a screen filled with the Sterling family's darkest secrets. The execution had officially begun.
Katherine endured mistreatment for three years as Julian's wife, sacrificing everything for love. But when his sister drugged her and sent her to a client's bed, Katherine finally snapped. She left behind divorce papers, walking away from the toxic marriage. Years later, Katherine returned as a radiant star with the world at her feet. When Julian saw her again, he couldn't ignore the uncanny resemblance between her new love and himself. He had been nothing but a stand-in for someone else. Desperate to make sense of the past, Julian pressed Katherine, asking, "Did I mean nothing to you?"
For five years, I believed I was living in a perfect marriage, only to discover it was all a sham! I discovered that my husband was coveting my bone marrow for his mistress! Right in front of me, he sent her flirtatious messages. To make matters worse, he even brought her into the company to steal my work! I finally understood, he never loved me. I stopped pretending, collected evidence of his infidelity, and reclaimed the research he had stolen from me. I signed the divorce papers and left without looking back. He thought I was just throwing a tantrum and would eventually return. But when we met again, I was holding the hand of a globally renowned tycoon, draped in a wedding dress and grinning with confidence. My ex-husband's eyes were red with regret. "Come back to me!" But my new groom wrapped his arm around my waist, and chuckled dismissively, "Get the hell out of here! She's mine now."
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