I know of no other dog with such strongly marked individuality, even in his tongue he elects to be eccentric, for that is of a deep black, instead of the ordinary flesh colour. There are other peculiarities about him which call for mention. For instance, if you are tired of him as a pet, certain parts of his body are regarded as delicacies fit to be served upon the table. The Chinese epicures, I believe, content themselves with his feet. As he lives mainly upon rice in his Oriental home, the idea of an edible Chow Chow is not quite so repulsive as if his subsistence were of a carnivorous kind.
Then the Chow has a more fully developed sense of locality than most dogs. He will return to his home with unerring instinct although he may have seen it but once before⸻even the intricacies of London streets present no difficulties to him. Some friends of mine once took their Chow to the sea, living in one house for a week and then moving into another. The first morning of their change of residence they lost the dog when out for a long walk, but he came back to the new place without the slightest hesitation. Nothing pleases a Chow more than the opportunity of wandering about as fancy pleases him. In his long and solitary rambles he will stroll round in apparently aimless manner, not so much as saying "good day" to another of his order who may happen to pass. Should, however, the stranger dog show a disposition towards belligerency, he may have reason to regret his temerity,
