
Multitasking New Yorkers have found a way to exercise dogs usually confined to city apartments and do their part to rid the streets of vermin. An informal club devoted to letting dogs chase rats in Downtown Manhattan alleys and parks has seen an increase in membership. Dog owners say hunting for rats allows dogs to exercise both body and mind (and contribute to cleaner streets). The New York Times reports:
In the alley, one dog's owner said she was a veterinarian from Manhattan on her third hunt who asked that her name not be published because “it wouldn’t go over well with some of my clients.”
“Once he got a taste for it, he has not stopped looking” for rats, she said, adding the hunt “provides mental stimulation” for the dogs.
“They are using their brain,” she said. “It’s in their nature, it’s what they want to do, but in the city, it’s hard for them to do it.”

A night at the pub in 1820s London meant drinks, jokes, and a rat fight. Dogs were prized for their ability to kill as any of the vermin as they could in a timed contest, and no dog was a fearsome (and as loved) as Billy, a Manchester terrier who set the city's record for number of rats conquered:
The famous dog Billy, of rat-killing notoriety, 26 lb. weight, was wagered, for twenty sovereigns, to kill one hundred rats in twelve minutes. The rats were turned out loose at once in a 12-feet square, and the floor whitened, so that the rats might be visible to all. The set-to began, and Billy exerted himself to the utmost. At four minutes and three quarters, as the hero's head was covered with gore, he was removed from the pit, and his chaps being washed, he lapped some water to cool his throat. Again he entered the arena, and in vain did the unfortunate victims labor to obtain security by climbing against the sides of the pit, or by crouching beneath the hero. By twos and threes they were caught, and soon their mangled corpses proved the valor of the victor. Billy was then caressed and fondled by many; the dog is estimated by amateurs as a most dextrous animal; he is, unfortunately, what the French monsieurs call borgne, that is, blind of an eye—this precious organ was lost to him some time since by the intrepidity of an inimical rat, which as he had not seized it in a proper place, turned round on its murderer, and deprived him by one bite of the privilege of seeing with two eyes in future.
Billy was decorated with a silver collar, and a number of ribbons and bows, and was led off amidst the applauses of the persons assembled.