The Dog

I was walking down the street. It was late in the evening towards the end of February. The roads are wet, and the sidewalks are frozen and slippery.

I pass the Mayak all-night coffee shop that was recently put up where a beer joint used to stand. A sign on the window says they now serve hot dishes during the day and alcoholic beverages throughout the evening. Young people of both sexes come out on the porch for a bit of fresh air and a smoke. In an asphalt area alongside it, I see some kind of dirty, black and white bundle huddled up next to a downspout. I walk a little closer and see that it's a small dog — a spotted mongrel. It's wearing a collar. Seeing me, it raises its head a little but doesn't move. Two eyes glisten above a narrow muzzle in the semi-darkness.

There's nothing special about a dog on the street, you say?! They're everywhere. But I've never seen that in Germany. In all the times I've been to Germany, I never encountered a homeless dog on the street, or a stray cat, either. Those Germans are strange people.

The dog was lying on the asphalt, right up against the wall. It was shivering. Now and then the shivering would stop, then it would take over again… The dog was cold.

I don't know why (maybe because I've had dogs in my own home in recent years), but I feel very sorry for strays. I've been around dogs a lot and observed how they behave and how they relate to life in general and people in particular. 

For example, we sometimes call our current dog — a sheepdog named Rada — Antonina Semyonovna after the famous Soviet educator, Anton Semyonovich Makarenko, because she's very involved in raising our children. Any time somebody yells or does something wrong, Antonina Semyonovna (that is, Rada) jumps right in to teach a lesson by barking and growling...

She wasn't our first dog. We had another one before her. She was smart, too. She came to a sad end. She fell sick, and as we were taking her to the vet in our car, she stood up on the backseat and laid her head on my son's shoulder as he was driving. It was as though she knew what was coming. She died a few days later…

Dogs. How do they differ from people? They don't! They have a heart, a liver and kidneys, just like we do. Their blood is red and just as hot as ours. And few people can match their devotion. I can't be indifferent to dogs, especially when they're lying on asphalt, and especially when they're wearing a collar that says they've been in human hands. And now I see this one on an empty street. It's warming the asphalt with its body and shivering. A man could, if he wishes, stand up, go look for a job and get his life back on track. But what can a dog do? Especially one that started life with people (could it have put the collar on its own neck?!) It has nowhere to go, nobody needs it.

So it lies there next to the coffee shop and shivers. I can't take it home, although I know it would love to come with me. But we already have a dog at home… Two can't get along, and I couldn't afford to keep them… And what if I walk another block or two and find another hound in the gutter…? I can't solve the stray dog problem. The black and white bundle is shivering. The dog is cold. I walk on past… I feel very sorry for the dog, but what can I do?