This article has been transcribed from a copy of the Cardiff Times in the online collection of scanned Welsh newspapers 1804-1919 in the National Library of Wales, with grateful recognition of the free access accorded to all readers.

Explanatory Notes

This column takes the form of a dyspeptic humorous tirade, laced with Samuel's customary Shakespearean quotations and biblical locutions, such as ‘I grieve not neither do I weep’, based on Matthew 6:28.

'Palmer, the poisoner' was William Palmer (1824-56), a Staffordshire General Practitioner and serial killer, who poisoned perhaps ten people between 1842 and 1856, when he was hanged for the murder of his friend, John Cook. —— David Skilton



Decorated initial M

am not, of course, going to discuss human so-called 'pets,' my dear sir. Far be it from me to describe, for instance, the manners and 'kistoms' of that particular form of human pet which is usually addressed by its lover in baby language, is referred to as 'chicksy-wicksy,' 'birdie,' or some such term, and which, cooing like the dove so long as it is fed on honeyed words, stalls for theatres and concerts, and on little presents, can at the same time hiss like a very lively serpent indeed at home when there is an extra wash on, when 'Pa' (how I hate that term!) refuses a new dress, or when the stockings of all the younger branches are to be darned. Let me digress by saying that the stockings are in such a case as that very considerably 'darned' in the American sense. But that is not the sort of 'pet' I want to describe, as I have said. Nor do I wish to limn (I more likely wish to 'limb' him) the miserable, unwholesome little 'pet' boy whose ringlets are long (perhaps in order that naughty bad boys may saw them off with blunt penknives) whose legs are spindl[e]y, whose manners are disgustingly and ridiculously polite, whose face is never dirty, whose hands are never daubed with gas-tar or cobblers' wax, and who is commonly referred to at home as 'deah Willee' or 'dawling Gussy.' I believe I should turn sick ('hev a sick gurd,' as they say in 'Bradforth') had I to describe that most loathsome of boys. What I mean to refer to is the pet dog, the pet canary, the pet monkey (ugh!), and the worse than monkies who elevate these things above their own lowly sphere, and render creatures otherwise entitled to our kindly consideration altogether objectionable, and a nuisance to mankind.

'Poor Pussy, did it want a Mutton Chop?'

Let us first take the very numerous class of men and women who make pets of dogs. When they are not washing them they are com[b]ing them elaborately. and the miserable shivering little wretches look pleadingly up at one if one happens to be standing by. And woe be to a household if one of these wretched little creatures should be lost – especially if it be the pet of the lady of the house. There is such hullabaloo, such a scouring of the neighbourhood (I don't mean scouring with sandstone, of course), such a sending of advertisements to the local papers, and such a threatening of hysterics. Mayhap the little wretch turns up at the height of the hullabaloo, and its irate master administers a kick to it, and then there is more unpleasantness. Not content with the coat that nature has provided dogs, some masters and mistresses of such swaddle them up in elaborate wraps, feed them on lamb chops and chicken, and let them dispose themselves about the house where they may, even if it be on the tablecloth. And woe betide the male visitor who may happen to accidentally tread one of these animal monstrosities – he is a pariah and an outcast from that time forth so far as the owner of the animal is concerned[.] I once, accidentally, sat on one of these little beasts — one that had frequently persecuted me previously by snarling at my heels, treating me with marked contumely, and monopolising all the best seats near the fire, whence I dare not depose him – and when I say that I sat down with a flop, and that I weigh 12st 71b, I need not go further into the matter. I have reason to believe, and I actually glory in the fact, that the said animal suffered immediately from what is called 'spine i' t' back,' and expired some minutes afterwards amid the frantic ejaculations of its mistress and the furtive grins of its master. A dog of this kind in a household is a bigger tyrant even than a baby. One can, as a rule, coax over a baby by means of 'clik-clik-ing' and sweetmeats, but I'll be blowed if even that game always pays with a bow-wow.

This is not a Family 'Pet' by any Means, nor does she think much ' 'O' them Hanimals.'

Impudent parrots and aggressive monkeys in a house are to me an abomination, and when the former fall victims to prowling cats and the latter to dogs (their natural rivals in the realm of pettedness) I grieve not neither do I weep. Probably either the pet parrot or the pet monkey may have a gravestone erected to it, but I do not strew flowers upon it or wear the trappings or the suits of woe [Hamlet I.ii.85-6]. The worst of 'pets' generally is that they are malicious beasts, and often cause dire mischief by taking violent and unjustifiable antipathies to particular friends of their masters or mistresses, and the latter then weak-mindedly say, in the bosoms of their families, 'Ah, poor Tiny (or Pongo, or anything you like) has a sort of instinct, don't you, that Mr Soandso is not a man to be trusted – ' and they drop Mr Soandso's acquaintance, very likely.

This the Typical Lady who is usually commissioned (and most erroneously as a rule) to cherish a regard for Cats.

Pet cats are usually held to be the speciality of old maids – but don't you believe it. Let me tell you a case to the contrary that a very dear relation of my own, a fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge, used actually to board out at a place in the town as many as thirteen or fourteen cats at a time, and woe be to him who dared to say a word against the so-called 'harmless, necessary cat.' [Shylock in Merchant of Venice IV.i.54]. Is a cat harmless? – It is certainly about the most malicious and unforgiving of all creatures, and the very furtive and generally sneaking sort of way in which it prowls about is enough in my impressionable mind to create mistrust and loathing. Yet do I daily see people coddling and cudding cats, allowing them to sit on their shoulders at dinner, and to lie on their very beds, and this in otherwise well-regulated households. Fie upon such folks! But even they are not quite so repulsive as the loathsome man (they generally are men, I am glad to say) who handle and fondle tame snakes, and who allow these creatures to twine their slimy lengths round their necks and heads – the men who carry pet frogs in their pockets, who pick up cockroaches in their fingers, who train rats to jump through hoops, and who have hedgehogs in their drawing-rooms. Far be it from me (I say this lest I should be misunderstood) to lessen the interest of mankind, and especially of young people, in dumb creatures, but I hold that the making of pets is humane consideration run mad, and brings into loathing and contempt creatures which, if rightly served, and trained according to their instincts, would earn our kindly attentions and our admiration.

Snarley-Yow on the Merry Romp

It is but too often the case that the men and women who cherish such violent affections for pets allow the display of their regard for living things to stop there, and are by no means overflowing with the milk of human kindness towards their fellow men and women. Take, for instance, the typical dog-fancier, who feeds his dog on mutton chop, and gives his wife the bones – and many a kick into the bargain. Many of our notable murderers, sir, have been quite celebrated for their frantic regard for the dumb creation. Palmer, the poisoner, loved a horse and a dog dearly – but that didn't stand in the way of his poisoning his wife and his best friend, never to count a few other miscellaneous persons. The women who are not renowned for their scrupulous virtue are notoriously given to cherishing abnormal affections for dumb animals. For my own part, good sir, I regard with suspicion rather than admiration the man or woman who can waste his or her regard upon creatures utterly unworthy at the best of them, or of anything but kindly treatment and passing notice.


Last modified 14 May 2022