Part I Chapter 10 Doctor Dolittle's Garden by Hugh Lofting
THE HERMIT DOG
"This time I determined to remove myself from the haunts of Man completely and entirely. I must confess I felt considerably disappointed in Humankind—disappointed and a good deal annoyed. It seemed to me that Man took far more than his share of the good things of this world and that he bossed the rest of creation much more than he had any business to. So I was now going to live independently of him. I think part of the idea was proving to myself, as well as to Mankind, that a dog could be really self-supporting.
"To find a piece of country that was wild enough for my purpose was not easy. I made inquiries of dogs whom I met along the roads. They told me of certain big forests and heaths where they reckoned that a dog could live, hidden away in peace, if he wanted to. These districts were all quite a distance off. I chose one that sounded the best and started out to get there.
"It took me three days of steady travel. On the way the countryside grew less and less peopled; and when at last I came to the part I was making for it certainly was lonesome and desolate enough for anything. Some of it was mountainous. For the rest, wide expanses of forest and brambly rolling heath sheltered only the timid native creatures of the wild. One couldn't find a better place for a dog to lead a hermit's life.
"I began by making a thorough exploration of the whole section till I knew every dell and thicket in it. Then I found a fine old hollow tree, like a bear's den, which made the snuggest home you ever saw. No winds or storms could reach me there, and it was as dry as any house or kennel. It was situated in one of the remotest and thickest parts of the forest where no stray traveller would be likely to find me—even supposing that any stray travellers ever passed that way. Quite near there was a splendid little mountain brook where I could always get a drink. Rabbits seemed plentiful, partridges and woodcock too; and there were a few squirrels and small game. Even in the winter season the woods were full of wonderful smells and looked very attractive.
"'So,' I said to myself the first evening when I brought home a rabbit to my lair and prepared to turn in for the night—'so! What do I care now for Man and his silly civilization? Here I will settle down, a wild dog, independent and self-reliant, living on the wilderness as did my forefathers before me. This is the life! Let Man go hang!'"
"Well, I stuck to my experiment long enough to prove it could be done. Entirely self-supporting and independent, I lived in the woods through the rest of the winter. Hardships I had in plenty; but I did it. Of course my diet was almost always raw meat, occasionally fish when I managed to catch the big trout drowsing in the rocky pools of the mountain brook. But that wasn't often. They were clever customers and were seldom off their guard. But I did get one or two a week—after I had secretly watched how the otters managed it, lying on the banks among the bracken, motionless for hours, and then, when the chance came, plunging right into the icy waters like a fish myself and battling with them in their own element. I learned a lot of hunting dodges from the otters—and from the weasels too.
"In many ways it was indeed a great life. But suddenly after a while I found I wasn't really contented. True I had all I wanted, liberty and independence included. But, there was no denying it, I wanted something else besides. I found myself wandering off to the few lonely little farms whose pastures bordered the heathlands beyond the edge of the forest. I didn't know why I did this at first. But soon I realized that I wanted to see and talk with other dogs. One farm dog I persuaded to leave his home and come and live with me. Together we had a very good time and he enjoyed it no end when I showed him how the independent wild life could be lived and taught him a lot of the hunting lore I had learned from the otters and foxes. And then too, hunting with a partner was of course much easier than hunting alone.
"But after a few weeks we both got sort of mopy. It perplexed us a good deal till finally we talked it over together and came to the conclusion that perhaps we wanted to be among people again. At first we would neither of us accept that idea at all. Still, we had to admit it in the end. Human company could give us something we couldn't get here. We both started remembering what good times we had had with this farmer, or that shepherd, or those children, going for walks, playing games, ratting together and so forth. One evening my friend said to me—
"'You know, Quetch, the trouble is we can live alone the same as the wild animals. But I don't believe we want to—not for long anyway. Our ancestors have lived for so many generations as part of the Human Household that now we miss the things that Mankind's company has provided us with. There was a small boy back on that farm I left—as funny a little tow-haired scrub as ever you laid eyes on. I never thought I'd miss him, never. He used to take me with him when he went to look for mushrooms in the Fall—or for birds' nests or water-lilies in the Spring. And now—it's funny—I find myself longing to see him again.... Would you mind very much, Quetch, if I left you, and went back?'
"Well, what could I answer? When he asked me that question I realized at once that the end of the experiment had come for me as well as for him. Life in the wild alone, after I had shared it with him, would have been quite unbearable for me.
"'All right,' I said. 'Maybe I'm more independently inclined than most dogs. But there is a great deal in what you say. Nevertheless if I go back to Man and his civilization I will only do it on certain conditions. I must be allowed to be my own boss. I will not be chained up and made to keep a whole lot of rules.'
"'In that case, why don't you go and try to get into the Doctor's club?' said he.
"'Doctor?—Club?' I asked. 'I don't follow you. What doctor?—What club?'
"'Well,' said my friend, 'I don't just know where he lives but almost any dog you meet seems to have heard of him. Dolittle is his name—lives somewhere down in the West Country, as far as I can make out. Must be a very remarkable person, from all reports. Has a club for dogs which is run by the dogs themselves. Certain rules of course, but only those that the members realize are necessary and lay down. Why don't you try and find him?'
"So that was how I first heard of Doctor Dolittle and his Home for Crossbred Dogs. Right away I realized it was the kind of place I had been looking for all my life up to this—where dogs were allowed to be themselves, and yet where they could enjoy human company, on a proper footing, as well.
"When my friend set out I went with him. I had no regrets over leaving my woodland home, in spite of its being such a wonderful spot. At his farm we parted and I went on. As yet of course the neighbourhood was very wild and lonely; and there were not many dogs to ask directions from. But soon I came to villages and towns. All the dogs I questioned seemed to have heard of John Dolittle all right, but none of them could give me very definite instructions as to how to reach his home. Some said he might be abroad because he travelled a great deal.
I avoided the larger towns as I was still afraid of the dog-catchers. Most of the information given me spoke of the Doctor as living in the West Country; and I kept travelling in that direction all the time.
"In my wanderings I eventually came to a town which was neither very large nor very small. In the Market Square I saw a Punch-and-Judy show going on. This form of entertainment had always amused me and I stopped to watch it. Presently another dog came up to me from behind and called me by name. Turning, I was delighted to find my old friend Toby. He had been watching the performance with a professional interest.
"We got chatting and I asked him if he had ever heard of this John Dolittle. You can imagine how glad I was to learn that not only was Toby living with the great man himself but that this town which I had come to was none other than Puddleby-on-the-Marsh, where the Doctor had his home. Toby volunteered to take me round there to see if he could get me into the celebrated club.
"And so there came an end to my wanderings. I had been a tramp dog, a performing dog, a gipsy dog, a monk dog, a professional sheep herder and a hermit wild dog. Not a very exciting career perhaps, but at least it had plenty of variety in it. I can assure you I was very glad to settle down in these pleasant surroundings" (Quetch waved an expressive paw towards the wide dining-room and the gymnasium that lay beyond the double doors) "which are cer-tainly my idea of a comfortable independent life I hope the Club continues to flourish for many years and I thank you for the attention with which you have listened to my story."