Other editions of book A Dog's Tale

Mark Twain's story, told from the standpoint of a courageous and loving she-dog, was first published in 1903. The story, by turns both funny and heartbreaking, begins with a description of her life as a puppy. As she grows, she is sold, then takes a mate and has a puppy, and her master and mistress have their first child. Her motives are misunderstood when she saves their baby from a fire and she is cruelly beaten. The truth is soon discovered, however, and she becomes an adored and loved heroine to all those around her. But her master is a scientist and her puppy dies cruelly in a biological experiment. The ending is deeply moving and sad.

The book is told from the standpoint of a loyal household pet, a dog self described by the first sentence of the story; "My father was a St. Bernard, my mother was a collie, but I am a Presbyterian." The story begins with a description of the dog's life as a puppy and her separation from her mother, which to her was inexplicable. Her puppy and her owner's new child were soon added to her new home. When a fire breaks out in the nursery, the dog risks her life to drag the baby to safety. In the process, her motives are misunderstood and she is cruelly beaten. Soon however, the truth of the situation is discovered and she receives no end of praise. Later in the story, her puppy dies as a result of the owner's biological experiments. Only a servant seems to realize the irony, exclaiming, "Poor little doggie, you saved HIS child!" In the end, the dog pines inconsolable over the grave of the puppy with the clear implication that she will do so until death.

The book is told from the standpoint of a loyal household pet, a dog self described by the first sentence of the story; "My father was a St. Bernard, my mother was a collie, but I am a Presbyterian." The story begins with a description of the dog's life as a puppy and her separation from her mother, which to her was inexplicable. Her puppy and her owner's new child were soon added to her new home. When a fire breaks out in the nursery, the dog risks her life to drag the baby to safety. In the process, her motives are misunderstood and she is cruelly beaten. Soon however, the truth of the situation is discovered and she receives no end of praise. Later in the story, her puppy dies as a result of the owner's biological experiments. Only a servant seems to realize the irony, exclaiming, "Poor little doggie, you saved HIS child!" In the end, the dog pines inconsolable over the grave of the puppy with the clear implication that she will do so until death.

The book is told from the standpoint of a loyal household pet, a dog self described by the first sentence of the story; "My father was a St. Bernard, my mother was a collie, but I am a Presbyterian." The story begins with a description of the dog's life as a puppy and her separation from her mother, which to her was inexplicable. Her puppy and her owner's new child were soon added to her new home. When a fire breaks out in the nursery, the dog risks her life to drag the baby to safety. In the process, her motives are misunderstood and she is cruelly beaten. Soon however, the truth of the situation is discovered and she receives no end of praise. Later in the story, her puppy dies as a result of the owner's biological experiments. Only a servant seems to realize the irony, exclaiming, "Poor little doggie, you saved HIS child!" In the end, the dog pines inconsolable over the grave of the puppy with the clear implication that she will do so until death.

A sentimental short story praised for its moving plot and condemnation of scientific experimentation on animals, Mark Twain efficiently delivers a truly captivating piece. First appearing in Harper’s Magazine in 1903, A Dog's Tale was later published as a pamphlet for the National Anti-Vivisection Society. The tale focuses on the life of Aileen, a misunderstood dog who experiences the ups and downs of life, while cruelly subjected to suffering because of the shallow belief of her inferiority amidst humans.The story is told from the point of view of Aileen Mavourneen, a self-proclaimed Presbyterian, whose mother is a Collie, and father is a St. Bernard. The story begins with Aileen’s life as a puppy, living together with her mother until she is later taken in by a loving family. Life at her new home seems perfect, as she lives in a well adorned house, and has an open space where she is free to roam and play with other dogs. Subsequently, the household welcomes the arrival of the owner’s baby and Aileen’s puppy, which adds joy to the home. However, the idyllic days are brought to a halt when a terrible accident occurs, prompting Aileen to risk her own life to save her owner’s infant from harm’s way. Despite the heroic deed, Aileen is rewarded with the utmost brutality that changes her life forever. A compelling piece of literature, A Dog's Tale efficiently depicts the dark and inconsiderate nature of humans, which is contrasted with the benign and loyal nature of dogs. Guaranteed to make one’s heart tingle, the short story evokes many powerful emotions throughout its short, yet overpowering pages.Twain successfully creates a piece that will captivate its audience, leaving them incapable of feeling indifferent to such a powerful message presented in the piece. Furthermore, Twain’s effectiveness to illustrate the inhumane and inconsiderate treatment of animals is heightened by allowing the audience to enter the mind of a dog and observe and feel life on the other side of the coin. Supplying a generous serving of humor, irony, love, cruelty, and heartfelt moments, A Dog's Tale encourages humanity to take a step back and carefully reflect on their actions and reconsider the roles played by both humans and animals in society.

The book is told from the standpoint of a loyal household pet, a dog self described by the first sentence of the story; "My father was a St. Bernard, my mother was a collie, but I am a Presbyterian." The story begins with a description of the dog's life as a puppy and her separation from her mother, which to her was inexplicable. Her puppy and her owner's new child were soon added to her new home. When a fire breaks out in the nursery, the dog risks her life to drag the baby to safety. In the process, her motives are misunderstood and she is cruelly beaten. Soon however, the truth of the situation is discovered and she receives no end of praise. Later in the story, her puppy dies as a result of the owner's biological experiments. Only a servant seems to realize the irony, exclaiming, "Poor little doggie, you saved HIS child!" In the end, the dog pines inconsolable over the grave of the puppy with the clear implication that she will do so until death.

was right or not? for she was the only cultivated dog there was. By and by, when I was older, she brought home the word Unintellectual, one time, and worked it pretty hard all the week at different gatherings, making much unhappiness and despondency; and it was at this time that I noticed that during that week she was asked for the meaning at eight different assemblages, and flashed out a fresh definition every time, which showed me that she had more presence of mind than culture, though I said nothing, of course. She had one word which she always kept on hand, and ready, like a life-preserver, a kind of emergency word to strap on when she was likely to get washed overboard in a sudden way--that was the word Synonymous. When she happened to fetch out a long word which had had its day weeks before and its prepared meanings gone to her dump-pile, if there was a stranger there of course it knocked him groggy for a couple of minutes, then he would come to, and by that time she would be away down wind on another t

was right or not? for she was the only cultivated dog there was. By and by, when I was older, she brought home the word Unintellectual, one time, and worked it pretty hard all the week at different gatherings, making much unhappiness and despondency; and it was at this time that I noticed that during that week she was asked for the meaning at eight different assemblages, and flashed out a fresh definition every time, which showed me that she had more presence of mind than culture, though I said nothing, of course. She had one word which she always kept on hand, and ready, like a life-preserver, a kind of emergency word to strap on when she was likely to get washed overboard in a sudden way--that was the word Synonymous. When she happened to fetch out a long word which had had its day weeks before and its prepared meanings gone to her dump-pile, if there was a stranger there of course it knocked him groggy for a couple of minutes, then he would come to, and by that time she would be away down wind on another...

was right or not? for she was the only cultivated dog there was. By and by, when I was older, she brought home the word Unintellectual, one time, and worked it pretty hard all the week at different gatherings, making much unhappiness and despondency; and it was at this time that I noticed that during that week she was asked for the meaning at eight different assemblages, and flashed out a fresh definition every time, which showed me that she had more presence of mind than culture, though I said nothing, of course. She had one word which she always kept on hand, and ready, like a life-preserver, a kind of emergency word to strap on when she was likely to get washed overboard in a sudden way--that was the word Synonymous. When she happened to fetch out a long word which had had its day weeks before and its prepared meanings gone to her dump-pile, if there was a stranger there of course it knocked him groggy for a couple of minutes, then he would come to, and by that time she would be away down wind on another t

was right or not? for she was the only cultivated dog there was. By and by, when I was older, she brought home the word Unintellectual, one time, and worked it pretty hard all the week at different gatherings, making much unhappiness and despondency; and it was at this time that I noticed that during that week she was asked for the meaning at eight different assemblages, and flashed out a fresh definition every time, which showed me that she had more presence of mind than culture, though I said nothing, of course. She had one word which she always kept on hand, and ready, like a life-preserver, a kind of emergency word to strap on when she was likely to get washed overboard in a sudden way--that was the word Synonymous. When she happened to fetch out a long word which had had its day weeks before and its prepared meanings gone to her dump-pile, if there was a stranger there of course it knocked him groggy for a couple of minutes, then he would come to, and by that time she would be away down wind on another t