National Geographic : 1944 Apr
Toy Dogs, Pets of Kings and Commoners rowed. Their own dog had been killed by a lion. As soon as Lo Ben saw the dog, he wanted him; but the trader would not sell borrowed property. Lo Ben not only offered to fill the trader's two wagons with ivory in exchange for the dog, but to give him all the women*he might require for sale to the Barotse. Asked why he had taken such a fancy to the Great Dane, the monarch replied: "He is a king among dogs and suitable as a com panion of Lobengula, King of the Matabele. As he followed at your heels, he kept his head high and did not take any notice of the bark ings and yappings of my people's curs. He's a king among dogs." And Pongo Was His Name At an old-time Bohemian resort in New York City, I once purchased a beautifully marked Mexican Hairless dog (Plate VII) from a Mexican who had recently arrived from over the Rio Grande. The dog was not only a performer but a wonderful walker on his hind legs. He had certain characteristics that reminded one of a gorilla; so I named him Pongo, as the greatest of apes is called by some of the natives of the Congo country of Africa. At that time, I lived in Greenwich Village and when, on week ends, I visited my country friends, I placed the dog in charge of an Irish cabdriver on West 10th Street. Because of frequent voluntary performances in taverns and restaurants around the village, Pongo became more or less an institution-a four-legged buffoon in a genial, jesting com munity. All the villagers knew the dog's name -knew it so well, in fact, that they began to address me as Pongo. That was too much. Even children hailed me by the embarrassing nickname. It was before the days of the automobile, and I used to drive to town in a buggy. One day Pongo jumped out of the buggy to chase a cat in the Syrian quarter at the southern end of lower Washington Street. I just drove on and left him to shift for himself. One day not long after the disappearance of the dog, a cabdriver hailed me on Fifth Avenue. He was a friend of the cabby from West 10th Street. "Where d'ye think Pongo is?" he called out. "I don't know, and I don't care." "But you must listen, sir. Pongo's doing fine. He's wearing a golden collar wi' jewels on it. He's staying at th' Waldorf with Mary Garden!" During the last two or three decades, intro ductions into the United States of European breeds of toy dogs of terrier types have been Percy T. Jones What Field-dog Experts Should Wear Freeman Lloyd, 84, has been kennel editor of Field and Stream for a quarter-century. Here at a spaniel field trial he is dressed point-device, with feathered derby, formal coat, stock necktie, corduroy breeches, heavy stockings, and short gaiters.