Further Adventures of Lad
1922
The stories follow Lad through his life at a picturesque North Jersey homestead. We see his arrival as a spirited young dog, his growing bond with the family, his protective instincts proven against threats, and the poignant passages that would move readers to tears, the death of his mate and finally his own passing. These aren't mere pet anecdotes; they're meditations on loyalty, courage, and the irreducible bond between humans and animals. Terhune writes with genuine affection and vivid detail, capturing the specific intelligence and emotional depth of his remarkable collie. The stories touched a nerve with 1920s America, becoming instant bestsellers, and continue to resonate because they portray a dog not as a pet but as a soul.
Editions
X-Ray
“He was Sunnybank Lad; eighty-pound collie; tawny and powerful; with absurdly tine white forepaws and with a Soul looking out from his deep-set dark eyes. Chum and housemate he was to two human gods; - a dog, alone of all worshipers, having the privilege of looking on the face of his gods and of communing with them without the medium of priest or of prayer.””
— Albert Payson Terhune
“Some proverbs live because they are too true to die. Others endure because they have a smug sound and nobody has bothered to bury them.””
— Albert Payson Terhune
“Through the fiery furnace your steps I'll pursue;To find you and save you:”
— Albert Payson Terhune
“The big collie saw the basket standing there, unprotected and, so far as he knew, ownerless. Gravely he stepped forward, lifted the heavy receptacle by the handle and turned about with it; still moving with dignified slowness. The table-setters were busy; and the car was between him and them. By the time the other member of the party succeeded in finding the things he was seeking under the rear seat, Lad had rounded the bend and was out of sight. To this day, none of the motorists has the remotest solution to the mystery of the vanished lunch.””
— Albert Payson Terhune
“All of which went to confirm Lad in the natural belief that anything found on the road and brought to the Mistress would be looked on with joy and would earn him much gratitude. So,”
— Albert Payson Terhune
“A dog is not at his best, in mind or in body, until he has passed his third year. And, before he nears the ten-year mark, he has begun to decline. At twelve or thirteen, he is as decrepit as is the average human of seventy. And not one dog in a hundred can be expected to live to fourteen. (Lad, by some miracle, was destined to endure past his own sixteenth birthday; a record seldom equaled among his race.)””
— Albert Payson Terhune
“And, by the time Lady was brought back, cured, the puppy had begun to show the results of his sire's stern teachings. Indeed, Lady's absence was the best thing that could have befallen Wolf. For, otherwise, his training must needs have devolved upon the Mistress and the Master. And no mere humans could have done the job with such grimly gentle thoroughness as did Lad.””
— Albert Payson Terhune
“A true watchdog sleeps with all his senses or the very edge of wakefulness. And when he wakens, he does not waken as do we humans;”
— Albert Payson Terhune
“There'll be a comeback of some kind to this, Laddie," he told the collie, as they moved on. "I don't know just what it'll be. But those two worthy youths didn't look at all lovingly at us. And there's nothing else in country life so filthily mean as an evicted trespasser. Don't let's say anything to the Mistress about it, Lad. It'd only worry her! And”
— Albert Payson Terhune
