It surprises us in this case because a special
and, when all is said, purely mechanical arrangement of the
parrot's organ gives him a human voice. At every moment, I find
in my own dog associations of ideas no less evident and often
more complex. For instance, if he is thirsty, he seeks my eyes
and next looks at the tap in the dressing-room, thus showing that
he very plainly connects the notions of thirst, running water and
human intervention. When I dress to go out, he evidently watches
all my movements. While I am lacing my boots, he conscientiously
licks my hands, in order that my divinity may be good to him and
especially to congratulate me on my capital idea of going out for
a constitutional. It is a sort of general and as yet vague
approval. Boots promise an excursion out of doors, that is to
say, space, fragrant roads, long grass full of surprises, corners
scented with offal, friendly or tragic encounters and the pursuit
of wholly illusory, game. But the fair vision is still in anxious
suspense. He does not yet know if he is going with me. His fate
is now being decided; and his eyes, melting with anguish, devour
my mind. If I buckle on my leather gaiters, it means the sudden
and utter extinction, of all that constitutes the joy of life.
They leave not a ray of hope. They herald the hateful, lonely
motorcycle, which he cannot keep up with; and he stretches
himself sadly in a dark corner, where he goes back to the gloomy
dreams of an unoccupied, forsaken dog.
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