Miscellaneous Rabies Symptoms Part 2

A spaniel, seemingly at play, snapped, in the morning, at the feet of several persons. In the evening he bit his master, his master's friend, and another dog. The old habits of obedience and affection then returned. His master, most strangely, did not suspect the truth, and brought the animal to me to be examined. The animal was, as I had often seen him, perfectly docile and eager to be caressed. At my suggestion, or rather entreaty, he was left with me. On the following morning the disease was plain enough, and on the following day he died. A post-mortem examination took place, and proved that he was unequivocally rabid.

A lady would nurse her dog, after I had declared it to be rabid, and when he was dangerous to every one but herself, and even to her from the saliva which he plentifully scattered about. At length he darted at every one that entered the room, until a footman keeping the animal at bay with the poker, the husband of the lady dragged her from the room. The noise that the dog made was then terrific, and he almost gnawed his way through the door. At midnight his violence nearly ceased, and the door was partially opened. He was staggering and falling about, with every limb violently agitated. At the entreaty of the lady, a servant ventured in to make a kind of bed for him. The dog suddenly darted at him, and dropped and died.

A terrier, ten years old, had been ill, and refused all food for three days. On the fourth day he bit a cat of which he had been unusually fond, and he likewise bit three dogs. I was requested to see him. I found him loose in the kitchen, and at first refused to go in, but, after observing him for a minute or two, I thought that I might venture. He had a peculiarly wild and eager look, and turned sharply round at the least noise. He often watched the flight of some imaginary object, and pursued with the utmost fury every fly that he saw. He searchingly sniffed about the room, and examined my legs with an eagerness that made me absolutely tremble. His quarrel with the cat had been made up, and when he was not otherwise employed he was eagerly licking her and her kittens. In the excess or derangement of his fondness, he fairly rolled them from one end of the kitchen to another. With difficulty I induced his master to permit me to destroy him.

It is not every dog, that in the most aggravated state of the disease shows a disposition to bite. The finest Newfoundland dog that I ever saw became rabid. He had been bitten by a cur, and was supposed to have been thoroughly examined in the country. No wound, however, was found: the circumstance was almost forgotten, and he came up to the metropolis with his master. He became dull, disinclined to play, and refused all food. He was continually watching imaginary objects, but he did not snap at them. There was no howl, nor any disposition to bite. He offered himself to be caressed, and he was not satisfied except he was shaken by the paw. On the second day I saw him. He watched every passing object with peculiar anxiety, and followed with deep attention the motions of a horse, his old acquaintance; but he made no effort to escape, nor evinced any disposition to do mischief. I went to him, and patted and coaxed him, and he told me as plainly as looks and actions, and a somewhat deepened whine could express it, how much he was gratified. I saw him on the third day. He was evidently dying. He could not crawl even to the door of his temporary kennel; but he pushed forward his paw a little way, and, as I shook it, I felt the tetanic muscular action which accompanies the departure of life.

On the other hand there are rabid dogs whose ferocity knows no bounds. If they are threatened with a stick, they fly at, and seize it, and furiously shake it. They are incessantly employed in darting to the end of their chain, and attempting to crush it with their teeth, and tearing to pieces their kennel, or the wood work that is within their reach. They are regardless of pain. The canine teeth, the incisor teeth are torn away; yet, unwearied and insensible to suffering, they continue their efforts to escape. A dog was chained near a kitchen fire. He was incessant in his endeavours to escape, and, when he found that he could not effect it, he seized, in his impotent rage, the burning coals as they fell, and crushed them with his teeth.

If by chance a dog in this state effects his escape, he wanders over the country bent on destruction. He attacks both the quadruped and the biped. He seeks the village street, or the more crowded one of the town, and he suffers no dog to escape him. The horse is his frequent prey, and the human being is not always safe from his attack. A rabid dog running down Park-lane, in 1825, bit no fewer than five horses, and fully as many dogs. He was seen to steal treacherously upon some of his victims, and inflict the fatal wound. Sometimes he seeks the more distant pasturage. He gets among the sheep, and more than forty have been fatally inoculated in one night. A rabid dog attacked a herd of cows, and five-and-twenty of them fell victims. In July, 1813, a mad dog broke into the menagerie of the Duchess of York, at Oatlands, and although the palisades that divided the different compartments of the menagerie were full six feet in height, and difficult, or apparently almost impossible to climb, he was found asleep in one of them, and it was clearly ascertained that he had bitten at least ten of the dogs.

At length the rabid dog becomes completely exhausted, and slowly reels along the road with his tail depressed, seemingly half unconscious of surrounding objects. His open mouth, and protruding and blackened tongue, and rolling gait sufficiently characterise him. He creeps into some sheltered place and then he sleeps twelve hours or more. It is dangerous to disturb his slumbers, for his desire to do mischief immediately returns, and the slightest touch, or attempt to caress him, is repaid by a fatal wound. This should be a caution never to meddle with a sleeping dog in a way-side house, and, indeed, never to disturb him anywhere.

Also read: Dog Health.