Categories
Animals Rural Life

Towser, the Alyth Dog

In the 1870s, Alyth boasted a local and international celebrity–A collie dog named Towser. This is his story as best as I could find out.

In late 1872, Alyth carpenter Colin MacDonald collected a young collie pup from the estate of Sir James Ramsay, 10th Baronet of Bamff. Ramsay’s keeper George Lindsay was an expert in breeding sporting dogs, setters and retrievers, but Ramsay’s own dog was a Scotch collie bitch, one of the old working breed used by shepherds of old. When Ramsay wanted pups from his dog, Lindsay went to Dundee, and found a suitable father in a butcher’s dog, since retired from a life of shepherding.

Colin’s pup was only six weeks old when he took him home. Black and tan in colour and wonderfully bushy haired, he named him “Towser”, a reference no doubt to the trusty protagonist of Robert Tannahill’s poem of the same name (MacDonald and his family were known for their love of old Scots poetry). Towser’s parents were notoriously intelligent, and Towser was no different. One who knew him his whole life called him “an intellectual”.

By the age of three months, Towser was beginning to demonstrate that classic collie trait of developing strange and elaborate games. Colin’s son Sandy and his friends always wore bonnets to work and Towser had “an incessant inclination” to take the hats from their heads. The only dog in the household and its surrounds, Towser made his games up de novo, not having any others to imitate or play with. He would take things in his mouth from one person to the next, not because he was trained to, but because he decided that he would.

He also seems to have had a knack for recognising people. In 1873, when Towser was just a year old, somebody broke into Colin’s workshop and stole some valuable pieces of wood. Towser was on the chain in the yard that night and wasn’t able to stop the thief from entering, but the next day as Towser was touring Alyth he cornered a person in the street and, growling, would not let them leave. The town police were called and Towser’s suspicions were verified—this person had stolen the wood from Colin’s shop.

His skills in recognition and carriage set Towser up for his career as Colin’s messenger and delivery dog. By 1881, Alyth’s population had boomed to just over 2300 people. Colin was apparently one of the best carpenters around as he always seemed to win the contracts for new construction projects. Colin wrote messages on paper rolled around a spill of wood and sent Towser around Alyth to deliver the message to the person Colin named.

If Colin forgot a tool, or needed a new bag of nails at the jobsite he was working at, he would give Towser a note and send him back to the workshop on Morn Street, where Sandy or one of the apprentices would fulfil the order and send Towser back with what was needed.Sometimes the errand would mean Towser would run miles each way if Colin was working out at Kilry, or Auchrannie.

It’s not clear how it first began, but early in Towser’s delivery career he started to ask the recipients of his messages for a tip. More strange is that he specifically begged for half-penny coins. A friend of Colin MacDonald described Towser’s routine and the rationale behind his coin preference thus:

“the solicitation for the coin is done by pawing the expected donor, and the pawing instantly stops when the coin is delivered to the dog […]. When he succeeds in getting this coin, he usually sets off with it to the baker to purchase a biscuit; and on reaching the shop he raises his forefeet on the counter, gets his biscuit, and retires to consume it”.

William Japp, solicitor, Alyth

Whether the biscuits he bartered for with his halfpenny actually cost a halfpenny or not, he was a welcome customer in many shops in Alyth. If the door of the shop was closed, he would ask someone (usually the shopkeeper) to open it by barking at the window.

Though Towser worked for Colin, Colin seems to have stayed out of the collie’s “finances”. Colin was an important man in Alyth. He ran charities, was on the police board, was an elector, and did work for the church in his spare time but he was still fined 25 shillings[1] in court for not paying for a dog licence for Towser in 1880! On Saturday evenings, Colin and Towser would lounge in the town and talk with friends and receive attention (and halfpennies) from passers-by. Towser would sometime get a half-dozen coins in an evening, and every one was taken to a shop to exchange for a biscuit. While this was fair of Colin to Towser keep his own purse strings, it probably wasn’t great for his health eating so many biscuits.

The only other place Towser brought his coins was back home to Margaret, Colin’s wife. Only doing this when he had had his fill of biscuits, Towser would exchange the coin with Margaret for a piece of pork or similar. Regardless of whether it was a biscuit or piece of meat in the bargain, William Japp said that Towser “never los[t] sight of the elementary principle of a sound commercial policy”. He goes on to describe Towser’s careful bargaining tactic: “he retains his halfpenny till the subject of exchange is laid down [and] has been known to sulk and turn a disdainful eye on anyone who tried to cheat him with something that was not a coin, at least for the night, with one who was dastard enough to fool him”.

A careful negotiator, Towser however was not above trickery himself. One baker recounted that Towser once gave a farthing for a halfpenny biscuit and “ran off with evidences of glee” before he could notice he’d been short-changed. The baker was convinced that Towser had “a glimmer of joy in his eye as he went off with more hurry than usual”. Towser was well-liked across Alyth, and his trick did not get him barred from the bakery. He was such a long-time customer of that bakery and three grocers in town that he appeared on their transaction registers.

In Scots, a “towser” is someone who is rough and boisterous—a rude dishevelled ruffian. Towser was anything but. In his old age in 1881 he was described as “stand[ing] high, is placid and gentle in manner, and rather leans on the side of being timid and shy when in the company of other dogs. He is not pugnacious and lives a life of forbearance. [Towser’s] whole bearing is contemplative, and his character is highly companionable and attached”. He would wander into town and watch the comings and goings of the merchants and mill workers.  Towser was a celebrity in his own time at home and further afield. After his story was shared in the Scottish Naturalist, he was written about in newspapers and scientific journals in England, France, and Germany as an example of animal intelligence and bargaining ability.

It is a shame that we do not have more recorded about Towser. Eric Knight, the author of the “Lassie Come-Home” short story was inspired by the intelligence of his own “old Scotch collies”.  Like “Lassie” of television fame, Towser was a faithful and intelligent friend. While we know about his tracking down of a criminal or running miles to send messages, Alyth was a busy place in Towser’s time and he was a denizen throughout town. How did he react when Colin fell off the roof, knocking himself out and cutting his face after his ladder gave way? What about when Mr. Beckwith’s tinsmith down the lane caught fire and the old widow in the next house almost suffocated? Towser had the qualities of a real-life “Lassie”.

Towser was a good boy. If anyone has any other information on Towser, get in touch or leave a comment!

SOURCES

De Messimy, G. (1896) Mendiants sans paroles. Revue Spirit Journal d’Etudes Psychologiques 39: 157-164
Japp, W. (1881) “Story of a Dog” The Scottish Naturalist 6: 59-60
Japp, A.H. (1895) “Animals as Beggars” Cassell’s Family Magazine 22: 774-777
Morgenstern, E. (1897) Tiere als Bettler.  Der Zoologische Garten 38: 212-214

NEWSPAPER SOURCES

Dundee Courier
1st October 1880. “Alyth Excise Prosecutions”, pg.8
24th August 1897. “Farmer and Dog-breeder. Mr George Lindsay of Strathardle”, pg.3

Dundee Evening Telegraph
31st January 1879. “Fire at Alyth this Morning” pg.2
27th June 1879. “Building Contracts”. Pg4
24th May 1882.  “Alyth Accident” pg.3
15th June 1927. “Alyth Resident’s Death”. Pg.4

Perthshire Constitutional and Journal.
4th September 1895. “Towser, the Alyth Dog”, pg2


[1] About £120 in 2019.

Categories
Folklore Food and Drink Rural Life

Seonaidh, god of Seaweed

Every Halloween until 1671, folk from Lewis (the Leòdhasaich) offered a cup of specially-brewed beer to the sea-god Seonaidh (Shoney) in return for lots of washed up seaweed to fertilise crops. The remaining beer fueled an all-night dance party near Eòropaidh.

Unsurprisingly it was the church that spoiled the fun. It took father and son Donald and Kenneth Morrison, ministers, at least 20 years to stop the tradition. The latter always preached with a sword in his belt and his church had two armed guards on Sundays.

Categories
Folklore Rural Life Words

Fishermen’s Freits

In fishing communities many words were taboo and would curse ship and crew if said aloud. Here are some “safe” alternatives:

keys: SNUTTLES
sheep: BLITTER
milk: SKUBBA
church: MUNGER-HOUSE
pig: MUDVITE
cat: FOODIN
knife: RAGGER
eel: SMONGIE
crab: SNIFFLE

For instance, if a fisher or a gutter accidentally said “gie tae me the knife” and didn’t call it a “ragger”, the knife had to immediately be thrown into the sea.

Categories
Animals Rural Life

Snatched by an Eagle

In 1813, the Campbells of Jura set about removing all eagle nests from the island after a swaddled newborn was snatched from nearby Scarba, carried over the Corryvreckan, and put down on Jura. The child survived with only minor injuries.

Categories
Animals Folklore Rural Life Words

TOD-TYKE

TOD-TYKE. n. A fox-dog hybrid valued for its herding and hunting ability. Gallovidians would tie their dogs outside fox dens in hopes of getting tod-tyke pups. Trouble is, no such hybrid is possible in nature!

Categories
Folklore Rural Life Words

CAULD AIRN!

Historically, pigs were taboo across Scotland, especially for fisherfolk. If seen or spoken of, bad luck was avoided by shouting “CAULD AIRN!” (cold iron) and grabbing something iron.

“Cauld airn” is the equivalent of “touch/knock on wood”

Categories
Rural Life

Get to church on stilts

In Moray, bridges would be washed away so often, folk used stilts as a reliable way to cross rivers. On Sundays in Kirkmichael parish in 1807, almost 600 people “stilted” the Avon to get to church. Even after good bridges were built, many “wad raither stilt”.

Hall, J. (1807) Travels in Scotland, by an Unusual Route. Vol. 2. J. Johnson, London. 622 pp.

Categories
Rural Life

The Outs and the Ins

In 1810, children in the Scottish Borders played “an old game” called “The Outs and the Ins”. Played without a bat, players ran between dools (bases). It may have been an older variant of rounders and baseball.

The first printed rules for rounders was in 1828

Cromek, R.H. (1810) Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway song: with historical and traditional notices relative to the manners and customs of the peasantry. T. Bensley, London. pp. 252-254

Categories
Place names Rural Life

Abyssinia

There was a croft (today it’s a bothy) near Arrochar called Abyssinia.

Apparently, a man named Iain Mór (Big John) visited Abyssinia (Ethiopia), perhaps as a soldier, and wouldn’t shut up about it when he got back to Scotland. His friends started calling him “Abyssinia” to tease him and the nickname stuck.

“A’m awa tae Argyll for the day, Abyssinia!”


“No ye’ll no, A’m no leavin Glesca”

Seton Gordon. (1948) Highways and Byways in the Central Highlands. Macmillan and Co., London. pp. 36-37

Sunday Post. 4th August 1935. pg. 7

Categories
Rural Life

Betty Duthie, fishwife extraordinaire

In 1914, Betty Duthie (1828-1923) had been carrying fresh fish daily between Inverallochy and New Deer (16 miles apart) for 70 years.

Showing no signs of slowing, she had already walked over 300,000 miles. She died aged 95.

Aberdeen Evening Express. Wednesday 21st January 1914. pg. 4