That is what it seemed like to him, but it was really swimming.
All his kind since the first dog had known how to swim, and he was not such a fool as to drown.
When he scrambled up on the bank and shook himself free of water, he was probably the most sorrowful, water-soaked, altogether lonesome little dog in the whole world. He wanted his home, he wanted his mistress, he even wanted Marie; but he had lost them all.
