Austria: A Husky Dog

The gate bell rang.

Looking out of the window, I saw the neighbour. Had he really decided to congratulate me on Geologist's Day? I opened the door and heard:

"Your dog has dug up all my cabbage."

"How did that happen?"

"There's a hole at the end of the fence. She slips through into our garden and digs up the cabbage. As soon as I walk up to her, she runs off to your side. I go into the house, she comes back and starts digging up our cabbage again." "I'll take immediate measures," I promised.

Though how to do that, I had no idea whatsoever.

Perhaps I should give the dog a talking-to and wag a finger at her: no making holes in fences and digging up other people's cabbage?

I found the hole fairly quickly. But the question remained: how does she make them? It's metal wire, after all!

I tied up the hole with rope and decided to watch what the dog would do next.

From the second floor I had a perfect view of the husky walking around the grounds. She went up to the place where the hole had been and, seeing she couldn't get through now, began prodding other spots in the woven fence with her muzzle. At last she found what she considered the weakest spot. She stepped back a few paces, then, having gathered speed, leapt muzzle-first at the fence. Then again, and again, until a sizeable hole had formed in the fence.

After which she crawled through and headed for the spot where the neighbour's cabbage was growing. Like the lady of the manor, she inspected her domain and set about digging a pit with energy, which in a few seconds turned into an enormous one.

I didn't wait in ambush any longer; I dashed outside and bellowed:

"Bad dog! Come here!"

And the dog, perfectly aware that she was doing something forbidden, immediately came back onto our plot and, stopping a few steps from me, crawled towards me in shame.

How can you scold her?

I patted her and let her off in peace.

And mended the hole again.

I must think of something to do about this fence.....

There is a lot of the wild beast in a husky, which I have been convinced of more than once. However disciplined a dog may be with her master, she instantly forgets he exists if she suddenly sees a roe deer or a squirrel. She immediately starts the chase.

And so one day, while playing with other dogs, she suddenly spotted a stray young rooster strutting proudly along the asphalt.

Frankly, I have never seen stray dogs in Austria, let alone stray roosters.

The game was broken off at once, and the huskies rushed at the terrified rooster. The rooster, clucking in fear, took to his heels. At one point it seemed to me that the bird would escape. He ran off somewhere behind a hedge and hid. But the dog came round from the other side. She sniffed him out and seized him in her teeth.

The worst of it was that she headed for our house, intending to eat him in peace, in quiet and with a hearty appetite (wolves, too, always drag their prey to the den).

But the gate was closed, and the husky, with the rooster in her teeth, began looking for a more convenient place to feast.

Several times people rang our doorbell to tell us that our dog was running around with a rooster in her mouth.

And what were we supposed to do, scold her?

In the end, the dog found nothing better than to go to the edge of the field and, in full view of the entire village, begin to disembowel the poor rooster.

I never thought one bird could have so many feathers.

And again her wolfish nature showed itself: whenever anyone simply walked past, she bared her teeth and lunged in his direction. Surely suspecting him of evil intent.

We had no choice but to announce to the public that if the owner of that poor rooster were found, we were ready to compensate his loss...

So far no one has responded.

In my view, Pavlov was greatly mistaken when he said that higher animals possess only reflexes, and that no manifestations of intellect should be seen in their behaviour.

Recently I witnessed a curious incident involving my dog.

One day she noticed a drake swimming in a pond and wanted to catch it. But as soon as the dog jumped into the water, the duck dived and surfaced at the opposite end of the pond. The husky swam straight at it, but again the duck vanished under the water. This game of tag went on for quite a while, until at some point the tiring duck lost its vigilance and the nimble husky took the bird in her teeth. Then, very pleased with herself, she swam to the shore.

Frankly, I was seriously baffled by the dog's success. What was I to do with this unexpected trophy? Walk through the whole village, triumphantly waving this caught duck?

I can imagine what the neighbours, the Austrians, would say. This Russian catches our Austrian ducks in the forest with his dog and makes roast of them.

Maybe bury the duck somewhere? But I had nothing with me. Or just toss it into the bushes, to be on the safe side. Or hide it inside my shirt?

Or maybe it would be better to wrap it in my jacket, since I still had a shirt on, carry it home in secret and roast it? Really, it would be a shame to let good food go to waste!

While all the possible options were whirling in my head, the dog moved a little to the side, to enjoy her game in quiet, though in full view of everyone.

Suddenly she stopped. As if she were pondering something. And then she unexpectedly went back to the lake and laid the duck on the shore.

The drake lay on the gravel beach as if dead.

Then he suddenly came to and nimbly leapt into the water.

The husky watched for a while as the duck swam, and then came over to me.

I felt relief and disappointment at the same time. The first, that the problem had solved itself. And the second, that, pity, there would be no roast!

It became clear to me: while chasing the duck, the dog had managed to make friends with it and took the chase as a sort of amusing game. And friends, as is well known, are not to be eaten.