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Updated: May 7, 2025
From Aeish, man, and caleph, dog, comes Aescaleph, the man-dog, or Aesculapius. This image was the work of Thrasymedes, the son of Arignotus, a native of Paros.
It was not reason on his part, but inhibition which had become habit. He plumped down on his bob tail, lifted golden muzzle skyward, and emitted a long puppy-wail of dismay and grief. "It's all right, Jerry, old man, brace up and be a man-dog," Van Horn soothed him. But Jerry was not to be reconciled. While this indubitably was a white- skinned god, it was not his god.
"A gentleman, that Terrence, and a four-legged proper man. A man-dog, if there ever was one, four-square as the legs on the four corners of him. And prepotent! My word! His blood'd breed true for a thousand generations, and the cool head and the kindly brave heart of him." Terrence did not voice his sorrow, if sorrow he had; but his hovering about Biddy tokened his anxiety for her.
Giles's Pound, and had to froth you your last quart, as you went up the Heavy Hill to Tyburn." "We shall all go there in time good time," breaks in a deep solemn voice, drawn somehow through the nose, and coming from the Man-Dog they called Grumps; "meanwhile, O greasy woman, let the beverage our brother asked for be drawn, and I, even Grumps, will partake thereof, and ask a blessing."
It seems, in fact, as though there existed in certain men a veritable bestial instinct, though pure and upright, like all instincts, which creates antipathies and sympathies, which fatally separates one nature from another nature, which does not hesitate, which feels no disquiet, which does not hold its peace, and which never belies itself, clear in its obscurity, infallible, imperious, intractable, stubborn to all counsels of the intelligence and to all the dissolvents of reason, and which, in whatever manner destinies are arranged, secretly warns the man-dog of the presence of the man-cat, and the man-fox of the presence of the man-lion.
The terrier whimpered and backed solidly against Captain Duncan's legs, but Michael, with a slow bob of tail and unbelligerent ears, advanced to him, looked up to Steward to make sure, then sniffed his late antagonist, and even ran out his tongue in a caress to the side of the other's ear. "See, sir, no bad feelings," Daughtry exulted. "He plays the game, sir. He's a proper dog, he's a man-dog.
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