Author Archives: amypatriciarobson

A ‘Major’ Discovery


A few days ago the University of Manchester shared the news that UoM historians (the same responsible for the wonderful ‘Breed’ exhibition that I previously wrote about) have discovered the first ‘modern dog’, Major—who supposedly heralded in the practice of judging dog breeds by a physical standard. The article can be found here and is an interesting read.

Whilst people are already questioning whether or not this is really can be considered the first time that a breed standard based on physical traits has been seriously attempted, I’ve decided, instead, to share a few of my own thoughts about this discovery—which is an important one, whether or not it marks the first attempt of such practices—or, to be more accurate, the publication behind this discovery.

Whilst I do not own an extensive collection of ‘The Field’ journal, I did, a few months ago, chance upon a book called ‘Dogs of the British Islands’ at auction, and eagerly purchased it (the 1867 “edited collection” mentioned in the news report). This book is essentially a compilation of the breed standards set by ‘The Field’, accompanied with reader’s responses; providing a wonderful mish-mash of serious attempt to define breed standards and scathing reviews of the dogs chosen to set the standards followed by rebuffs (sometimes from the very owner of the chosen dog). So, what do I think of this compilation of ‘The Field’ and its thoughts?


Naturally, my interest in such publications can be drawn back to my Art Historical roots.

The way that dogs were expected to be judged not only off of the measurements provided in such Journals but off of the illustrations is fascinating to me. Through such processes we see the dog in nineteenth-century British practices not only becoming more regulated and standardized but also, notably, more visual—judged as a aesthetic object in their own right. Through this transition images of dogs became used interchangeably with dogs that were present to be judged on their own merits, causing a fascinating interchangeability when it came to what a dog ‘should’ look like.

This can be observed in ‘The Field’ itself as, when considering the standard of Setters, it was noted that, in order to set a standard of “beauty and excellence” [i]:

“We have carefully criticized the portraits of every celebrated setter whose memory has been perpetuated by the painter, and we have gone as far as the year 1822.” [ii]

Going on to determine that:

 “A careful comparison of these portraits with our recollection of the best models exhibited during the last five years, leads us to the conclusion that if these engravings are faithful representations of the departed setters, we possess dogs far superior to the dogs of our forefathers” [iii]

And, whilst ‘The Field’ was eager to highlight the fallibility of portraiture, claiming that “our critique on the portraits of dogs must scarcely be looked upon as a criticism of the dogs themselves”, it still, regardless, continued to “enumerate the portraits we have seen”—going on to dedicate more than a page to the judgement of dogs in portraiture as if the dogs in the artworks were being shown in front of their very eyes—and even contributed to the propagation of the aesthetic standard of dogs through a heavy use of engravings.[iv]


Although I have come to no solid conclusions concerning the extent to which this practice was prevalent (nor its ultimate significance) I can make one tentative assertion in this early stage of my research. The implications of this, when considering the popularity of dogs in Victorian art, are of great importance, and something I plan to keep at the front of my mind throughout the duration of my research. As such, if Major is considered as the first example of a ‘modern’ dog, through the standards by which he is judged, then ‘The Field’ can be considered as equally significant for developing early examples of the developing aesthetic existence dogs.

The first? I’m not so sure, but worthy of regard none-the-less.

[i] Dogs of the British Islands, p.3.

[ii] Dogs of the British Islands, p.3.

[iii] Dogs of the British Islands, p.3.

[iv] Dogs of the British Islands, pp. 3-4.

2011 Poster Exhibition

When I was still doing my undergraduate degree I was lucky enough to have an opportunity to be part of a poster exhibition arranged by Plymouth University. This poster exhibition was part of a showcase of undergraduate research, and aimed to demonstrate the elements that went into a research project.

My poster in situ.

My poster in situ.

For my poster I chose to highlight the sources which an undergrad might consult as part of their research. The idea of the posters was to keep them short and simple, so my sources took the form of a list.

The final drafts and design of my poster was undertaken by a design student and I was blown away when I saw the final version. I truly am grateful to have been given such an opportunity and to have been able to show how much hard work goes into research (even at undergraduate level).

Sir Joshua Reynolds: The Acquisition of Genius

Below are some images from my time working as a Young Explainer with the Plymouth City Museum & Art Gallery  back in 2009. The work revolved around the ‘Sir Joshua Reynolds: The Acquisition of Genius‘ exhibition.

Enjoying the exhibition opening.

Enjoying the exhibition opening.

A glimpse of the 'Big Screen' banner, the art for which was selected with the help of the Young Explainers.

A glimpse of the ‘Big Screen’ banner, the art for which was selected with the help of the Young Explainers.

Another view of Reynold's self-portrait on the 'Big Screen'.

Another view of Reynold’s self-portrait on the ‘Big Screen’.

A photograph of the presentation myself an my colleague, Manuela Husemann, conceptualized for the 'Big Screen'.

A photograph of the presentation myself an my colleague, Manuela Husemann, conceptualized for the ‘Big Screen’.

More shots from the presentation.

More shots from the presentation.


My time as a Young Explainer included-

Being part of the group deciding which image would be placed on the back of Plymouth’s Big Screen TV as part of ‘The Big Blueprint‘ project.

Collaborating on a talk to the public concerning Reynolds as a Collector of art (titled ‘Reynolds the Collector‘) with one of my colleagues.

Collaborating on a small slideshow to be featured on Plymouth’s Big Screen TV with a colleague. Creating the initial design concept independently and working on the texts, images and sequence with a colleague.

Talking on the local BBC radio with a colleague.

Playing a part behind-the-scenes in a live-performance of some of Reynold’s most popular works for primary school children, titled ‘Living Reynolds’.

The experience was very rewarding and gave me valuable insights into many facets of Museum work and public engagement.

If you’re interested in finding out more about the exhibition (and the contribution of the Young Explainers) then check out the article here.

For the full Big Screen TV slideshow just click on the Vimeo video below.

Young Explainers – Reynolds Animation from PCMAG on Vimeo.

My First Publication

My first publication–a article in The Arts and Popular Culture in History–has recently been published.


The article is a polished version of my talk given at a conference of the same name and is titled ‘Canine Contexts: The Potential of Dogs in British Victorian Art’.

Adapted from the 20 minute talk, the article is mainly a teaser for the potential that reading and understanding the context of dogs in British Victorian art can provide. Working from this base the article provides a case study of Ford Madox Brown’s painting Work, looking at the dogs in the painting and providing previously unasserted insights into the fifth dog in the artwork.


The book also includes many other interesting fields of research; including a look a typography and its significance in pamphlet literature during the late-sixteenth century, an interesting article on the role of Tommy Atkins, and an article looking at the Berlin Bronzes in the context of newspapers and journals of the nineteenth-century.

If you are interested in my article, or any of the others, then you can purchase the book here.

All the best!

Amy Robson.

The Pre-Raphaelites at Tate Britain


I am glad to say that, despite my busy research schedule, I (just about) managed to find my way to London for a viewing of Tate Britain’s wonderful exhibition ‘Pre-Raphaelites: Victorian Avant-Garde’ before it met its end on the 13th of this month. I am sure the exhibition enjoyed a very popular existence as even my attendance near the end was met with a 2-3hr waiting period after ticket purchase before you could even queue up to get into the exhibition itself! After this period of queuing I, personally, was met with rooms so crowded that it was hard to even get near to the artworks, let alone appreciate them. Despite this, however, the exhibition truly a fantastic, well thought out, and incredibly enjoyable event (If only there were a few less crowds!).

For those interested in the exhibition I recommend the publication that accompanied it, by the same name of ‘Pre-Raphaelites: Victorian Avant-Garde’—whilst not the same as actually having seen the exhibition, and the artworks up close, it afford the viewer a generous amount of vivid illustrations, intelligent discourse and space within which to absorb its contents. But, for those who just want the quick-version, I’ll try to summarise. ‘Pre-Raphaelites: Victorian Avant-Garde’ sets out to redefine the Pre-Raphaelites in our modern eyes as a radical and self-aware avant-garde movement, as opposed to typical painters of a ‘repressed’ age or mere imitators of the early masters that their namesake alludes to.

In order to achieve this agenda the exhibition guides the viewer through seven themed rooms; titled Origins and manifesto, History, Nature, Salvation, Beauty, Paradise and Mythologies. Each of these rooms demonstrates the main aim of the exhibition through their designated theme and hopes to present the Pre-Raphaelites in a way which the audience had not previously considered. This theme, one can assume, is partially influenced by Victorian stereotypes as they exist within our modern society—as the retail section attached to the exhibition carries books such as ‘Inventing the Victorians’ by Matthew Sweet. Art and other forms of Pre-Raphaelite visual culture merge within this exhibition and everything shown seems perfectly rich, vivid and provocative. If attendance rates and newspaper reviews are of any merit, it seems that the general public have received the exhibitions message fondly.

By far the best exhibition of Pre-Raphaelite art I have seen
Jonathan Jones, Guardian

The Pre-Raphaelites are revealed as the cutting edge of art
Rachel Campbell-Johnston, Times

Not wanting to go too in-depth into an already well structured and reviewed exhibition I shall, instead, just highlight a few of my personal favourites from the art shown.

 ‘Isabella’ by Sir John Everett Millais[ii]

Elaborated upon in this video clip by the exhibition’s Co-curator Dr. Jason Rosenfeld in a far greater manner than I could articulate, Millais ‘Isabella’ is a true Pre-Raphaelite painting through-and-through, and definitely one of my personal favourites. In particular my mind is (as to be expected) drawn to the dogs within this image. I can’t quite, at this time, puzzle out whether it is the case that, whilst Isabella is “playing it very cool”, the dog that she tries to pet into sedation is a representation of her inner anxieties and the wide-eyed fear that she is trying to repress or whether it is the case that both dogs provide the viewer with further insights into Lornezo—with the dog leaning into her lap being representative of the obsessive, frantic passion that he feels for Isabella and that she is trying to conceal, shown by her attempts to calm the dog, whilst the dog under the chair of Isabella’s brothers represents his coming fate, veiled in shadow as it lays limp and lifeless in the otherwise active scene. Considering the emerging multivalence of the dog within this period I’m inclined to perceive both as valid interpretations for the time being, and these possibilities for the dog’s meaning leave me feeling a similar dynamism to that of the brother’s vigorously thrust-up leg.

This imagery is also another reason why I remember this iconic painting with admiration and humour as, far from the supposed ‘new discovery’ that the media has been proposing, I remember the brother’s ‘shadowy member’ being anecdotally alluded to when I was still an under-grad. Memories such as this, and the brilliance of the work overall, mean that in my eyes this fantastic artwork certainly does rise to the occasion (in more ways than one!).

‘The Order of Release 1746’ by Sir John Everett Millais

Another picture from Millais with a ‘dogged’ presence makes me jokingly wonder whether or not Millais’ artworks may have inspired his son, Everett Millais’, endeavours—as he became a dog breeder, and champion of the Basset hound breed in England from 1874 onwards. The scene depicted is of the release of a Jacobite rebel from prison, subsequent to the defeat of Bonnie Prince Charlie by the English at Culloden. But, as usual, I place this painting as one of my personal highlights due to its four-legged foregrounder.

In the exhibition catalogue it is said that “The pressure of the dog’s paw on his master’s belt adds another layer of emotion, one worthy of the work of Edwin Landseer, the foremost animal painter of the era and one of Millais’ heroes”, and this praise is certainly warranted in my eyes. Offering support to its master through the previously mentioned paw of solidarity, the Jacobite mongrel (who may owe its scruffy fur to some Scottish deerhound in its ancestry) looks up not to its master but, instead, to the Jacobite’s wife—recognising her position of strength and authority within an otherwise broken and defeated household. Representing the general sign of faithfulness—both in itself and resonating from the wife and mother of this painting—that are quintessentially associated with man’s best friend, this painting allows for an interesting window into the potential of dogs to add to the intended narrative of a Victorian ‘problem painting’.

I also can’t help but note, with interest, that in some of the original sketch works for this piece Millais did not originally envision a mongrel dog but, instead, a greyhound-type breed, as he played around with both the positioning of the dog’s paws and head.


A Sketch for the Order of Release, 1852


A Sketch for the Order of Release, 1852

Whilst simply musings on my part, these sketches can be seen to bring up interesting implications about bot the deliberate nature of the dog’s inclusion in the piece and its importance to the message that the painting wished to portray. Overall this painting offers a fascinating look into Millais work process, scandal aside.

‘Young Romilly’ by Alexander Munro

When I saw this wonderful marble sculpture I practically parted crowds with the enthusiasm that I approached it with! The sculpture was inspired by William Wordsworth’s ‘The Force of Prayer’ (1807) which tells of the foundation of Bolton Priory due to the tragic death of William of Egremont—who fell to his death in the River Wharfe, along with his faithful greyhound.

Following this part of the poem:

“He sprang in glee,—for what cared he

That the river was strong, and the rocks were steep?—

But the greyhound in the leash hung back,

And checked him in his leap,”

The sculpture manages to create a dynamic and almost animate rendition of the scene—where the larger-than-life greyhound snarls its warnings as an extension of the poem’s narrative and the sculpture’s desired recreation of the scene. I would recommend anyone who find the link to this image compelling to go and see it in person, as the photograph given really cannot do justice to the skill of this wonderful sculpture. It’s certainly a favourite of mine.

‘Work’ by Ford Madox Brown

I’ll allow the great Tim Barringer to explain this artwork, one of my all-time favourites, and simply say for now that, no matter how much I look at this painting, I always find something new to love about ‘Work’ when I go and view it. Barringer points out the dogs which, of course, are an interest of mine! But, I’m afraid, I will leave any analysis of these notable canines for now, as I shall (no doubt) be bringing them up in another blog post.

So those were my personal highlights. There are, of course, many other wonderful artworks that were part of this exhibition—I will always marvel at the beauty of works such as Rosetti’s ‘Lady Lilith’, or Millais’ ‘Ophelia’ or ‘Mariana’, and paintings such as Hunt’s ‘The Awakening Conscience’ and ‘Our English Coasts’ are some of the first that provoked me to think about the role of the animal in Victorian art—but those are, perhaps, best left for you to explore, my dear readers, if you are as captivated by the works of the Pre-Raphaelites as myself.

Until then I wish you all the best, and hope that you have enjoyed at least some of my ramblings!    






[vi] Barringer, T., Rosenfeld, J. & Smith, Alison, Pre-Raphaelites: Victorian Avant-Garde, Tate Publishing, 2012, P. 64.

[vii] With credit to George P. Landow,

[viii] With credit to George P. Landow,


[x] Barringer, T., Rosenfeld, J. & Smith, Alison, Pre-Raphaelites: Victorian Avant-Garde, Tate Publishing, 2012, P. 112.

‘Breed’ Sets the Standard


Thoughts on ‘Breed: The British & their Dogs’

Walking through to the main entrance of the Manchester Museum as it stands today, one could not possibly miss the recently opened exhibition ‘Breed: The British & their Dogs’, as it’s wonderful entrance wall—adorned with black & white photography of man’s best friend, welcoming dog lovers and curious passers-by alike through its inviting archway.

Continue reading

The Black Dog’s Progress

In this post I’d like to go off-theme a bit and briefly explore a short animation that has stayed with me as a personal favourite since I first saw it on Channel 4 in 2008. Stephen Irwin’s ‘The Black Dog’s’ progress was originally commissioned by Animate Projects as a web-exclusive however, with a bit of help from Arts Council England funding, it was instead broadcast on Channel 4 as part of a show called AnimateTV.

Irwin himself encourages the film as something that can be re-watched and explored at the viewer’s own pace and, once ‘The Black Dog’s Progress’ has been viewed, one can see why Irwin encouraged a few re-watches (at least!). The frantic and non-linear ensemble of this animation’s narrative can leave the viewer’s eyes darting from one frame of this grim (but compelling) tale’s flip-book structure to another, not wishing to miss a single moment. However, with the help of a spotlight as a guide, the main story still manages to entice the viewer’s attention—allowing them to share in the tragic experiences of this animation’s naïve protagonist, the black dog.

Whilst I encourage people to watch the animation themselves (despite its possibly disturbing themes) I’ll also give an overview of this animation as I interpret it.

As the first flip-book comes to view on a rather blank screen the black dog is seen popping out of a birthday box, ready to be welcomed into his new home with open arms. This moment, however, is short-lived as the young boy starts to sneeze and the now-unwanted dog is swiftly and unsympathetically thrown into the trash.

It is at defining point of abandonment—in which the black dog falls out of the trash can, and finds himself questioning exactly where he may find his home—that the neighbourhood starts to expand. Both the troubling, erratic flip-book imagery and the sinister music make it apparent that the black dog’s story shall not be a happy one and, as a spot light comes to guide us along the dog’s journey, it’s not too long until this suspicion is confirmed.

Reaching out hopefully to a potential new owner the black dog finds his paw sharply bitten off, as all it can do it scream out in pain. Screaming out, but with no home to rest in, the black dog continues to desperately try and find a home, paw prints of blood seen behind him.

Unfortunately this neighbourhood offers no respite, and the black dog finds himself being literally consumed by his next ‘home’, as the carnal desires of the home’s owner mean that the black dog soon finds himself the distressed victim of bestiality. Screaming out once more.

The experience leaves the black dog bleeding once-more, and not even things that we would usually associate with innocence and childhood (a balloon and a flower with a smiley face) can offer solace to the black dog. Emaciated and exhausted by his search for a home all the black dog can do is vomit on the flower whilst bleeding—any sense of his initial hope and naiveté lost in the moment.

In the next point of progression the dog’s expression has changed dramatically. Far from looking hopeful or victimised the dog instead looks determined. Placing on boots (with one foot still bleeding heavily) he ventures onwards.

This moment is very interesting from my point of view. The way I have chosen to interpret this is that the dog now wishes to try its original home—the genesis of its progression and the only point where he actually encounters a friendly face (if only for a moment) in the form of the boy he is gifted to. However, with the boys allergies to dogs he cannot go back in his current state and so he determines to change himself, become something that the boy will not sneeze at, become human.

In the tragic conclusion, however, by the time the black dog gets back to his original home his experiences at the hands of the worst of humankind has changed him irreparably and he returns home a monstrosity—not human, nor dog, and certainly not welcomed by the mother of the home.

As he looks down at the mother of the home with a pleading expression the mother doesn’t hesitate to burn him where he stands. The black dog lets out one final scream of pain (symbolised to great effect by the musical score of this animation) as the word unravels around him—flames, blood and black smoke bleeds outwards from various points until we are left with very little (and yet so much) to look at. In this jarring conclusion we are left with the title of the animation ‘The Black Dog’s Progress’.

For their efforts when it came to ‘The Black Dog’s Progress’, Stephen Irwin & Sorenious Bonk both received high acclaim—with ‘The Black Dog’s Progress’ winning the Best Short Film award, and Sorenious Bonk being awarded the Best Sound award at the 2010 British Animation Awards, and this comes as no surprise.

Technically ‘The Black Dog’s Progress’ is impressive. Over 50 flip-books were made in order to represent all of the various scenes, and these were hand-drawn, scanned and then assembled in Photoshop before becoming the finishing project that we see on the screen. Composer Sorenious Bonk also does a fantastic job with the accompanying music for this animation—as violins, double bass, trumpets, percussion a mandolin and a 100-year-old autoharp came together to collaborate near seamlessly with the catastrophic adventures of the black dog.

Meanwhile the motivations and the inspirations for ‘The Black Dog’s Progress’ don’t go unnoticed within the animation itself. Irwin claims to have taken inspiration from William Hogarth’s ‘A Rakes Progress’ and, like a Hogarth, his anxious narrative allows the viewer to look at ‘The Black Dog’s Progress’ over and over again and still manage to spot some new element and there’s that sense of multiplicity.

Irwin’s tragic animation was also inspired by a news story he had heard, in which a woman who had tried to get rid of the family dog numerous times without success decided to set it on fire, only to have the fire spread and kill her young children. This can be seen in the animation as the mother of the story is represented as a body with a giant mouth on her head—she has no eyes and doesn’t judge the situation, she only shouts orders, commands and reacts instead of viewing the black dog’s plight, or alternative methods of re-homing the dog. This is her eventual downfall, as her fire burns and destroys the animation, leaving only blood.

In this way it can be assumed Irwin was also trying to make a nod back to the inspiration of Hogarth’s artwork, as Hogarth, too, was known for trying to depict the issues of the day in his busy moral narratives.  However, this is where the clear parallels end and, at the end of the day, as much as I adore ‘The Black Dog’s Progress’ I can’t help but feel that this inspiration point is unclear at points.

Whilst ‘A Rake’s Progress’ takes on Tom Rakewell and its ‘modern moral subject’, and makes an example out of his foolish choices to succumb to the temptations of the opulent world of depravity and self-destruction that he found himself in (despite the many chances of redemption he gets in the form of the poor, but moral, Sarah Young), the black dog is simply a casualty of the abusive neighbourhood that it has found itself in.

The lack of agency that the dog has and it’s simple and understandable drive to find a home means that, far from being a ‘modern moral subject’ the black dog is the innocent party within an abusive landscape—the overall moral message, as Irwin highlights, concerning animal cruelty. As such there is a mismatch, a misunderstanding or perhaps just a deliberate oversight of the key structure of ‘A Rake’s Progress’ (and Hogarth’s moral narratives in general) and, whilst Irwin would perhaps suggest that the black dog is metonymically aligned with Tom Rakewell, I personally cannot help but see him as more aligned with the victimised dog from ‘The Four Stages of Cruelty- The First Stage of Cruelty’—who finds itself subject to Tom Nero’s cruelty, as him and his friends hold the dog down whilst an arrow is inserted into the dog’s anus.

However, despite this, ‘The Black Dog’s Progress’ does not lack anything as a result of this divergence, and manages to stand alone as a very strong piece of animation that, for some audiences (such as myself), will resonate with the viewer long after they have seen it.




For more on Stephen Irwin why not check out his website?

Heads and Tails

T. Landseer, The Dog Bill Committee, 1844, Print on Paper, Private Collection.

A little excerpt I thought I’d share from Punch-

Heads and Tails

The uncertainty manifested by the Head of Departments as to the execution of the order enjoining the muzzling of all dogs in the Metropolis on the 31st inst., has naturally excited a great deal of commotion in canine circles, and a representative meeting was accordingly held yesterday afternoon in a field adjoining the Dog’s Home, at Battersea, to deal with the subject.

A St.-Bernard, who took a first prize at the last Dog Show, having been unanimously voted to the Chair, was greeted with a prolonged wagging of tails and said:—He felt he need hardly enter upon the circumstances which had occasioned the present meeting. There had been a good deal of talk, one way and the other, about their species of late, and probably owing to the Mansion House move in favour of the Pasteur System, and an isolated case or two of Hydrophobia—(growls)—the usual scare had got up, and as a consequence, the Authorities had decreed that they were all to be muzzled for six months. Personally, he was indifferent to the manner, and if his owners chose to strap up his face in a leathern or wire cage whenever he took his quiet and sober walks abroad, he could only suppose that in subjecting him to the humiliation, they could not help themselves. Still, though sedate himself, he could well enter into the feelings of his more frisky and lively brethren who felt the restraint keenly, and he thought, as there seemed to be no one capable of putting the order in force, that an opportunity was certainly presented of asking the HOME SECRETARY whether, under the circumstances, it wouldn’t be wiser, to reconsider the matter altogether, and revoke the order while there was yet time to do it.

[Barks of approval, and prolonged wagging of tails.

A Drawing-room Pug, who spoke with some difficulty, owing to chronic indigestion, said that of course if the order were in force it couldn’t possibly apply to him, as he took only exercise in a carriage round the Park, perched up on a feather cushion, with a piece of blue ribbon round his neck. As to the common class of dogs who went about on foot, he really didn’t see why they should object to being muzzled. The order didn’t touch him, and he didn’t care.


A Bloodhound said, that to hear a mere show dog, who was out of it himself, express his opinion in that cool fashion, made his blood boil. The very thought of a muzzle almost sent him off his head. How could he, he should like to know, follow up a trail and catch a murderer by the throat, if he couldn’t use his teeth? (Barks of approval.) All he could say was, that whether the order was passed or not, he wouldn’t advice any policeman who values his calves to come meddling with him.

[Much wagging of tails.

A Punch and Judy Dog, who was warmly greeted, said he should like to know whether the Authorities meant to clap a muzzle on him, and expected him to go through his performance (pert of which, as they probably knew, consisted in catching hold of Punch’s nose) under impossible conditions? If so, it would be nothing more or less than putting a complete gag on him, and he might as well retire from the business altogether. He felt strongly on the subject, for he spoke not only for himself, but on behalf of his artistic friends who preformed at Music Halls and elsewhere, and who certainly could not be expected to climb up chairs, wear cocked hats, and jump through paper moons with their heads banged up in wire or leather in accordance with a degrading police regulation. (Growls.) All he could say was, the if Mr. Matthews ignored their petition, he might as well consign them to the Lethal Chamber at once. But her trusted matters would not come to pass as that.

[Loud barks of approval.

A Blind Man’s Dog wanted to know how he was to get through his business, and be expected to collect pence holding a tin-pot in his mouth, if he had a muzzle on? The thing was preposterous.

A Scotch Terrier wished to ask the Chairman if it was true that a Member of Parliament had absolutely proposed the muzzling of cats.

[Wagging of tails indicative of much merriment.

A Dachshund replied that he was glad to say it was. He said he was “glad to say” it was, because such a proposition amounted to a reductio ad absurdum of the whole question. If these manifestly inferior domestic animals were to come in for the muzzle, they would be wanting to apply it next to the rats and mice. This made thoughtful people, who see they don’t know where to stop its use, naturally ask what made them begin it. For his own part he had never come across anybody who had been bitten by a dog.

A Westmoreland Collie owned that, when he first came up to London he certainly did catch hold of a postman or two by the leg, but he added it was done out of pure fun, and that he hadn’t a touch of rabies about him. He would propose that a deputation be appointed by the Meeting to wait in the HOME SECRETARY, and ask him, seeing that a hitch had occurred in carrying it into execution, to reconsider his order.

[Barks of approval.

The Chairman the put the Motion to the Meeting, and it was carried unanimously, upon which, amidst a prolonged wagging of tails in manifestation of satisfaction, and a general chorus of barking in approval, the proceedings came to an end.

Punch, or the London Charivari, August 3rd, 1889, p. 53.


A New Website

Hello Dear Readers,

I have decided to move the research from my old blog and website over to here, and will be using this site from now on to provide updates on my research and random musings.

Please forgive my rapid cluster of posts while I go through this process.

Anyone interested in my old blog can still find it by clicking here (though it will no longer be in use).

All the best!

Amy Robson.