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The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 11, Issue 3 (June 1, 1936)

The Little Things That Count

The Little Things That Count.

That is the secret of Man's penchant for pets. They represent repositories for repressions, they are the recipients of his reflexes, his silent sympathisers, and probably his only admirers. Whether he seeks them, looking like “Sunlight on the River,” “War Clouds on the Bosphorus,” or “Fungus in the Underground,” matters not one whit nor wot. Under all conditions their opinion of him is almost as high as his own. He may be so good that he even bores himself; he may be so bad that even his wife realises it. But, will his canary give him “the bird,” will his cat “scratch” him, will his dog become tail-tied in his presence? No sir! Neither will his white rabbit burrow in the blancmange at sight of him. No wonder they are called dumb animals. And of all dumb animals the dog is the “dumbest”; which probably makes him so popular as a pet. Cats are cold. They seem always conscious that once they were fondled by the Pharaohs and pampered in the palaces of Egypt. When the spirit of Ancient Egypt moves them they can “cut” you deader than a butcherbaronet.