Stories about trained animals. Vladimir Durovmy animals

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V.L. Durov
My animals

“My entire life has been spent side by side with animals. I shared grief and joy with them in half, and the affection of animals rewarded me for all human injustices...

I saw how the rich suck all the juice out of the poor, how rich, strong people keep their weaker and darker brothers in slavery and prevent them from realizing their rights and strength. And then, with the help of my animals, in booths, circuses and theaters I spoke about the great human injustice...”

V. L. Durov (from memoirs)

Dear young readers!

There are many theaters in Moscow. But the most outlandish theater is, perhaps, the one located on Durova Street. Children from all over Moscow gather here every day. Many come even from other cities. After all, everyone wants to visit this extraordinary theater!

What's surprising about it? There is a foyer, an auditorium, a stage, a curtain... Everything is as usual. But it’s not people who perform on stage here, but... animals. This animal theater was created by Honored Artist of the RSFSR Vladimir Leonidovich Durov.

From his earliest years, when Volodya Durov was still a boy, he was drawn to animals and birds. As a child, he already tinkered with pigeons, dogs and other animals. He was already dreaming of a circus, because the circus shows trained animals.

When Volodya grew up a little, he ran away from home and entered the booth of the famous circus performer Rinaldo in those years.

And so the young man Durov began working in the circus. There he got a goat Vasily Vasilyevich, a goose Socrates, and a dog Bishka. He trained them, that is, taught them to do different numbers in the arena.

Usually trainers used a painful method: they tried to get obedience from the animal with a stick and beatings.

But Vladimir Durov abandoned this method of training. He was the first in the history of the circus to use new way- a method of training not with beatings and a stick, but with affection, good treatment, treats, and encouragement. He did not torture the animals, but patiently accustomed them to himself. He loved animals, and animals became attached to him and obeyed him.

Soon the public fell in love with the young trainer. In his own way, he achieved much more than previous trainers. He came up with a lot of very interesting numbers.

Durov entered the arena in a bright, colorful clown costume.

Previously, before him, clowns worked silently. They made the audience laugh by slapping each other, jumping and somersaulting.

Durov was the first of the clowns to speak from the arena. He castigated the royal order, ridiculed merchants, officials and nobles. For this the police persecuted him. But Durov boldly continued his performances. He proudly called himself "the people's jester."

The circus was always full when Durov and his animal troupe performed.

Children especially loved Durov.

V.L. Durov traveled all over Russia, performing in various circuses and booths.

But Durov was not only a trainer - he was also a scientist. He carefully studied the animals, their behavior, morals, and habits. He studied a science called zoopsychology, and even wrote a thick book about it, which the great Russian scientist, academician Ivan Petrovich Pavlov, really liked.

Gradually Durov acquired more and more new animals. The animal school grew.

“If only we could build a special house for animals! - Durov dreamed. “It would be spacious and comfortable for them to live there.” There one could calmly study animals, lead scientific work, accustom animals to perform.”

V.L. Durov dreamed of an unprecedented and fantastic theater - a theater of animals, where, under the motto “Enter and instruct,” the child would be given the first simple lessons of moral and aesthetic education.

Many years passed before Vladimir Leonidovich managed to fulfill his dream. He purchased a large, beautiful mansion on one of the oldest and quietest streets in Moscow, called Bozhedomka. In this house, located among the greenery of the gardens and alleys of the Catherine Park, he housed his four-legged artists and called this house “Durov’s Corner.”

In 1927, the Moscow City Council, in honor of the 50th anniversary of V.L. Durov’s artistic activity, renamed the street where the “Corner” was located into Durov Street.

In 1934, Vladimir Leonidovich died.

The Animal Theater, created by Grandfather Durov, as the little spectators called him, became more and more popular every year. The old hall could no longer accommodate everyone who wanted to attend the performance, and often lines of children standing at the ticket office left in tears without receiving a ticket.

Now the “Corner” has been expanded. Next to the old building, a new beautiful white-stone theater grew up - a whole town. The “Corner” now houses an animal theater, a menagerie, and a museum.

In the museum, children can see stuffed animals with which Vladimir Leonidovich Durov worked. Here is the learned dachshund Zapyatayka, here is the sea lion Leo, here is the brown bear Toptygin... The famous Durov railway has also been preserved.

The menagerie houses animals that are now performing in the theater.

Let's imagine that we want to look at the amazing residents here. You don't need to lift the roof or look into windows and doors to do this. Here everyone has their own apartment, and neighbor can exchange glances with neighbor. Semicircular enclosures, and in them unusual “artists” - inhabitants of all parts of the world.

There are many animals in the menagerie. There is a mountain hare, a talking hoodie, a bright red-blue parrot, a mathematician dog, a sea lion, a tiger, pelicans, and many, many other animals and birds.

Book exhibitions are often held in the bright foyer of the theater. Writers, artists, composers meet here with their little readers, viewers, and listeners. Here the boys have conversations with scientists and trainers.

After the death of Vladimir Leonidovich Durov, he was replaced by a new generation of Durovs, who continued the work of the famous trainer.

Anna Vladimirovna Durova-Sadovskaya, Honored Artist of the RSFSR, artistic director of the theater, worked at the “Corner” for many years.

Here, People's Artist of the USSR Yuri Vladimirovich Durov began his journey in art. And finally it was my turn. Grandma, holding my hand, led me to the “Corner”. And since then I have not parted with my favorite theater.

I grew up, one might say, among animals and saw how my father gently and patiently trained them. I also learned to understand the habits of animals and treat them carefully.

I will always remember the words of my father and grandfather that you first need to get to know the animal, all its characteristics and habits, and only after that you can teach it some number.

In my work, I do not deviate from Durov’s method of training, which excludes the slightest pain. Only with patience, kindness and affection, painstaking work and knowledge of zooreflexology can you ensure that the pony gives the public his charming smile, and the donkey sincerely laughs at the slob for whom the raccoon immediately washes his handkerchief...

And so number follows number. Here is a white hare beating out several bars of a march on a drum. The gray crow importantly shouts to her friend: “Come on, come on,” - the commentator’s talent rivals the Macaw parrot. Sea lion juggles. A fox and a rooster are eating peacefully from the same feeder. A wolf and a goat are spinning in an amazing waltz, and a hardworking bear is sweeping the territory...

All these miracles happening on stage are based on mutual trust between man and animal.

I wanted to preface these words with my grandfather Vladimir Leonidovich Durov’s book “My Animals,” which you, my young friends, are now holding in your hands and which was first published about seventy years ago.

N. Yu. Durova,

People's Artist USSR and Russia, writer, laureate of the USSR State Prize, main director and artistic director of the Theater "Grandfather Durov's Corner".

OUR BUG

When I was little, I studied at a military gymnasium. There, in addition to all kinds of science, they also taught us to shoot, march, salute, take guard duty - just like a soldier. We had our own dog, Zhuchka. We loved her very much, played with her and fed her with leftovers from the government dinner.

And suddenly our warden, the “uncle,” had his own dog, also Zhuchka. The life of our Bug immediately changed: the “uncle” cared only about his Bug, but beat and tortured ours. One day he splashed boiling water on her. The dog started running with a squeal, and then we saw: our Bug’s fur and even skin had peeled off on her side and back! We were terribly angry with the “uncle.” Gathered at secluded corner corridor and began to figure out how to take revenge on him.

“We need to teach him a lesson,” the guys said.

- What we need to do is... we need to kill his Bug!

- Right! Drown!

- Where to drown? Better to kill with a stone!

- No, it’s better to hang it!

- Right! Hang! Hang!

The “court” deliberated briefly. The verdict was passed unanimously: the death penalty by hanging.

- Wait, who will hang?

Everyone was silent. Nobody wanted to be an executioner.

- Let's draw lots! - someone suggested.

- Let's!

Notes were placed in the school cap. For some reason I was sure that I would get an empty one, and with a light heart I put my hand into my cap. He took out the note, unfolded it and read: “Hang.” I felt uncomfortable. I envied my comrades who received empty notes, but still went after “uncle’s” Bug. The dog wagged its tail trustingly. One of our people said:

- Look, smooth! And our whole side is peeling.

I threw a rope around Bug’s neck and led him into the barn. The bug ran merrily, pulling on the rope and looking around. It was dark in the barn. With trembling fingers I felt a thick cross beam above my head; then he swung, threw the rope over the beam and began to pull.

Suddenly I heard wheezing. The dog wheezed and twitched. I trembled, my teeth clicked as if from cold, my hands immediately became weak... I let go of the rope, and the dog fell heavily to the ground.

I felt fear, pity and love for the dog. What to do? She's probably suffocating right now in her death throes! We need to finish her off quickly so she doesn’t suffer. I fumbled for the stone and swung it. The stone hit something soft. I couldn’t stand it, I cried and rushed out of the barn. The dead dog remained there... That night I did not sleep well. All the time I imagined the Bug, all the time I heard her death rattle in my ears. Finally morning came. Frustrated and with a headache, I somehow got up, got dressed and went to class.

And suddenly, on the parade ground where we always marched, I saw a miracle. What's happened? I stopped and rubbed my eyes. The dog I had killed the day before was standing, as always, next to our “uncle” and wagging its tail. Seeing me, she ran up as if nothing had happened and began rubbing herself at my feet with a gentle squeal.

How so? I hung her up, but she doesn’t remember evil and still caresses me! Tears came to my eyes. I bent down to the dog and began to hug it and kiss its shaggy face. I realized: there, in the barn, I hit the clay with a stone, but Zhuchka remained alive.

From then on I fell in love with animals. And then, when he grew up, he began to raise animals and teach them, that is, train them. Only I taught them not with a stick, but with affection, and they also loved and obeyed me.

CHUSHKA – FINTIFLYUSHKA

My animal school is called “Durov’s Corner”. It's called a "corner", but in fact it's big house, with terrace, with garden. One elephant needs so much space! But I also have monkeys, and sea lions, and polar bears, and dogs, and hares, and badgers, and hedgehogs, and birds!..

My animals not only live, but learn. I teach them different things so that they can perform in the circus. At the same time, I study animals myself. This is how we learn from each other.

As in any school, I had good students, and there were worse ones. One of my first students was Chushka-Fintiflyushka - an ordinary pig.

When Chushka entered the “school”, she was still a complete beginner and didn’t know how to do anything. I caressed her and gave her meat. She ate and grunted: give me more! I went to a corner and showed her a new piece of meat. She'll run to me! She liked it, obviously.

Soon she got used to it and began to follow me on my heels. Where I go, Chushka-Fintiflushka goes. She learned her first lesson perfectly.

We moved on to the second lesson. I brought Chushka a piece of bread smeared with lard. It smelled very tasty. Chushka rushed as fast as she could for the tasty morsel. But I didn’t give it to her and began to pass the bread over her head. Chushka reached for the bread and turned over on the spot. Well done! This is what I needed. I gave Chushka an “A”, that is, I gave him a piece of bacon. Then I made her turn around several times, saying:

- Chushka-Fintiflushka, turn over!

And she turned over and got a tasty “A”. So she learned to dance the waltz.

Since then, she has settled in a wooden house in a stable.

I came to her housewarming party. She ran out to meet me. I spread my legs, bent down and handed her a piece of meat. The pig approached the meat, but I quickly transferred it to my other hand. The pig was attracted by the bait - it passed between my legs. This is called "going through the gate." I repeated this several times. Chushka quickly learned to “go through the gate.”

After that I had a real rehearsal at the circus. The pig was afraid of the artists who were fussing and jumping in the arena, and rushed to the exit. But an employee met her there and drove her to me. Where to go? She timidly pressed herself against my legs. But I, her main defender, began to drive her with a long whip.

In the end, Chushka realized that she had to run along the barrier until the tip of the whip dropped. When he goes down, you need to go to the owner for a reward.

But here's a new challenge. The employee brought the board. He placed one end on the barrier, and raised the other not high above the ground. The whip slammed - Chushka ran along the barrier. Having reached the board, she wanted to go around it, but then the whip slammed again, and Chushka jumped over the board.

Gradually we raised the board higher and higher. Chushka jumped, sometimes broke down, jumped again... In the end, her muscles got stronger, and she became an excellent “gymnast-jumper.”

Then I began to teach the pig to stand with his front legs on a low stool. As soon as Chushka, finishing chewing the bread, reached for another piece, I put the bread on the stool, near the pig’s front legs. She bent down and hurriedly ate it, and I again raised a piece of bread high above her snout. She raised her head, but I again put the bread on the stool, and Chushka bowed her head again. I did this several times, giving her bread only after she lowered her head.

In this way I taught Chushka to “bow.” Number three is ready!

A few days later we began to learn the fourth number.

Again the pig was driven to the barrel. Chushka jumped over again and was again left without a reward. This happened many times. Chushka was exhausted, tired and hungry. She couldn't understand what they wanted from her.

Finally, I grabbed Chushka by the collar, put her on a barrel and gave her some meat. It was then that she realized: you just need to stand on the barrel and nothing else.

This became her favorite number. And really, what could be more pleasant: stand quietly on the barrel and get piece after piece.

Once, when she was standing on a barrel, I climbed up to her and raised my right leg over her back. Chushka got scared, rushed to the side, knocked me off my feet and ran into the stable. There, exhausted, she sank to the floor of the cage and lay there for two hours.

When they brought her a bucket of mash and she greedily attacked the food, I jumped on her back again and tightly squeezed her sides with my legs. The pig began to fight, but failed to throw me off. Besides, she was hungry. Forgetting about all the troubles, she began to eat.

This was repeated day after day. Eventually Chushka learned to carry me on her back. Now it was possible to perform with her in front of the public.

We had a dress rehearsal. Chushka did all the tricks she could perfectly.

“Look, Chushka,” I said, “don’t disgrace yourself in front of the public!”

The employee washed her, smoothed her, combed her hair. Evening has come. The orchestra thundered, the audience began to rustle, the bell rang, and the “redhead” ran into the arena. The performance has begun. I changed my clothes and approached Chushka:

- Well, Chushka, aren’t you worried?

She looked at me as if in amazement. And in fact, it was difficult to recognize me. The face is smeared with white, the lips are painted red, the eyebrows are drawn in, and Chushka’s portraits are sewn onto the white shiny suit.

- Durov, your way out! - said the circus director.

I entered the arena. Chushka ran after me. The children clapped happily when they saw the pig in the arena. Chushka got scared. I began to stroke her, saying:

- Chushka, don’t be afraid, Chushka...

She calmed down. I slammed the chamberriere, and Chushka, as in the rehearsal, jumped over the crossbar.

Everyone clapped, and Chushka, out of habit, ran up to me. I said:

- Trinket, would you like some chocolate?

And he gave her meat. Chushka was eating, and I said:

- Pig, he also understands taste! “And he shouted to the orchestra: “Please play the Pig Waltz.”

The music started playing, and the Trinket began to spin around the arena. Oh, and the audience laughed!

Then a barrel appeared in the arena. Chushka climbed onto the barrel, I climbed onto Chushka and then I screamed:

- And here comes Durov on a pig!

And again everyone clapped.

The “artist” jumped over various obstacles, then I jumped on her with a deft leap, and she, like a dashing horse, carried me out of the arena.

And the audience clapped with all their might and kept shouting:

- Bravo, Chushka! Encore, Fintiflushka!

It was a great success. Many ran backstage to look at the learned pig. But the “artist” didn’t pay attention to anyone. She greedily devoured the thick, selected slop. They were more valuable to her than applause.

The first performance went as well as possible.

Little by little Chushka got used to the circus. She performed often, and the audience loved her very much.

But Chushkin’s successes haunted our clown. He was famous clown; his last name was Tanti.

“How,” thought Tanti, “does an ordinary pig, sow, enjoy more success than I, the famous Tanti?... This must be put to an end!”

He seized a moment when I was not at the circus and climbed in with Chushka. But I didn’t know anything. In the evening, as always, I went out to the arena with Chushka. Chushka performed all the numbers perfectly.

But as soon as I sat astride her, she rushed around and threw me off. What's happened? I jumped on her again. And she again breaks out like an unbroken horse. The audience laughs. And I'm not laughing at all. I run after Chushka with the chamberier around the arena, and she runs away as fast as she can. Suddenly she ducked between the servants and into the stable. The audience is noisy, I smile as if nothing had happened, but I myself think: “What is this? Has the pig gone mad? We'll have to kill her!"

After the show, I rushed to examine the pig. Nothing! I feel my nose, stomach, legs - nothing! I put a thermometer on and the temperature was normal.

I had to call the doctor.

He looked into her mouth and forcibly poured a large portion of castor oil into it.

After treatment, I tried to sit on Chushka again, but she again broke free and ran away. And if it weren’t for the employee who looked after Chushka, we would never have known what was going on.

The next day, the employee, while bathing Chushka, saw that her entire back was wounded. It turned out that Tanti poured oats on her back and rubbed it over her stubble. Of course, when I sat astride Chushka, the grains dug into the skin and caused unbearable pain to the pig.

I had to treat poor Chushka with hot poultices and almost one by one pick out the swollen grains from the bristles. Chushka was able to perform only two weeks later. By that time I had come up with a new number for her.

I bought a small cart with harness, put a collar on Chushka and began harnessing it like a horse. At first Chushka did not give in and tore the harness. But I insisted on my own. Chushka gradually got used to walking in a harness.

Once my friends came to me:

- Durov, let's go to the restaurant!

“Okay,” I replied. - Of course, you will go in a cab?

“Of course,” the friends answered. - What are you on?

- You'll see! - I answered and began to put Chushka into the cart.

He sat down on the “irradiator”, picked up the reins, and we rode along the main street.

What was going on here! The cab drivers gave way to us. Passers-by stopped. The driver of the horse-drawn horse looked at us and dropped the reins. Passengers jumped up from their seats and clapped like in a circus:

- Bravo! Bravo!

A crowd of children ran after us shouting:

- Pig! Look, a pig!

- That's how the horse is!

- He won’t get it!

- He will bring it to the barn!

- Throw Durov in a puddle!

Suddenly a policeman appeared as if out of the ground. I reined in the "horse". The policeman shouted menacingly:

- Who allowed it?

“Nobody,” I answered calmly. “I don’t have a horse, so I’m riding a pig.”

- Turn the shafts! – the policeman shouted and grabbed Chushka by the bridle. - Drive through back alleys so that not a single soul can see you. And he immediately drew up a report against me. A few days later I was summoned to court.

I didn’t dare go there on a pig. I was tried for allegedly breaking public silence. And I didn’t break any silence. Chushka never even grunted while riding. I said so at the trial, and I also said about the benefits of pigs: they can be taught to deliver food and carry luggage.

I was acquitted. There was such a time then: just a protocol and a trial.

Once Chushka almost died. Here is how it was. We were invited to a Volga city. Chushka was already very learned back then. We boarded the ship. I tied the pig on the deck to the railing of the balcony near a large cage, and in the cage sat a bear, Mikhail Ivanovich Toptygin. At first everything was fine. The steamer ran down the Volga. All the passengers gathered on the deck and looked at the learned pig and Mishka. Mikhail Ivanovich also looked at Chushka-Fintiflushka for a long time, then he touched the cage door with his paw - it was being served (apparently, the attendant, unfortunately, had not locked the cage properly). Our Mishka, don’t be a fool, opened the cage and, without hesitation, jumped out of it. The crowd backed away. Before anyone had time to come to their senses, the bear with a roar rushed at the learned pig Chushka-Fintiflyushka...

Although she is a scientist, she, of course, was not able to cope with the bear.

I gasped. Without remembering himself, he jumped onto the bear, sat down on it, grabbed the shaggy skin with one hand, stuck the other into the hot bear’s mouth and began to tear the bear’s cheek with all his might.

But Mikhail Ivanovich only roared louder, fiddling with Chushka. She squealed like the most ordinary, uneducated pig.

Then I reached for the bear’s ear and began to bite it as hard as I could. Mikhail Ivanovich became furious. He backed away and suddenly pushed Chushka and me into the cage. He began to press us against the back wall of the cage. Then the employees came running with iron sticks. The bear furiously fought off the blows with its paws, and the more they beat the bear from outside, the more it pressed us against the bars.

I had to quickly cut two rods out of the back wall. Only then did Chushka and I manage to escape to freedom. I was all scratched up, and Chushka was thoroughly dented.

Chushka was sick for a long time after this incident.

The work tells us the experience of communication between Vladimir Durov and his pet animals and birds.

It all started from the moment when, as a child, the writer and his friends wanted to make fun of a yard dog. The boy’s lot fell to strangle her, but no matter how he tried to kill her, the Bug remained alive. After this episode, he was ashamed of what he had done, but when he saw the dog unharmed, and besides, caressing his feet, he decided never to do that again. From then on, he loved animals with all his heart. Having matured, Vladimir, having run away from home, went to work for the circus performer Rinald, thus dedicating later life training pets, and never hit them during training.

His school was located in a huge house, where Durov kept many animals, starting with polar bear and ending with a simple canary. One of his favorites was the pig Chushka-Fintiflyushka, who quickly mastered the training. She learned to follow only the trainer, turn on her back, and jump over an obstacle. Soon she was able to rehearse in the circus arena and subsequently perform at the performance with great success. The next pet elephant, Baby, acquired by a trainer in Hamburg, also knew a lot of interesting things. He can play the role of a hairdresser, he was one of the best students in school. Especially excellent results showed the elephant in arithmetic.

Most of all, the audience liked the performance of the sea lions Leo, Pizzi and Vaska, among whom Leo was the most talented student. On command, he rang the bell for the performance, played ball with a circus performer - a dwarf, and helped Vaska learn to catch fish himself during the show.

One day Vladimir Leonidovich brought a mongrel from the street, to whom he gave the name Bishka, and found out that the dog had an unusual ear for music. Bishka could press the named note with her paw on the piano and easily bark a specific number. In addition, the dachshund Zapyatayka showed extraordinary knowledge of geography, which could easily indicate north and south on the map with its muzzle, and accurately identified the seas. Among Durov's favorites were the badgers Borka and Surka, who knew how to fire a toy cannon and turn the pages of a book. However, they died while traveling to a fair in Nizhny Novgorod. The pets, having escaped from the cage, simply rushed into the water and were carried away by a strong current. Later, the trainer acquired several more small badgers, calling them by the same names. The cranes, who could dance, were especially funny. But, during a tour in Kostroma, he simply flew away. They were perfectly replaced by a chicken that skillfully performed a waltz.

Durov's tours were a success throughout the country. Thanks to his gentle treatment of animals, Vladimir Leonidovich achieved great results in training his pets.

The book teaches us to treat our smaller brothers with kindness and care.

You can use this text for reader's diary

Durov - My animals. Picture for the story

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Durov V.L.

“My entire life has been spent side by side with animals. I shared grief and joy with them in half, and the affection of animals rewarded me for all human injustices...

I saw how the rich suck all the juice out of the poor, how rich, strong people keep their weaker and darker brothers in slavery and prevent them from realizing their rights and strength. And then, with the help of my animals, in booths, circuses and theaters I spoke about the great human injustice...”

V. L. Durov (from memoirs)

Dear young readers!

When Volodya grew up a little, he ran away from home and entered the booth of the famous circus performer Rinaldo in those years.

And so the young man Durov began working in the circus. There he got a goat Vasily Vasilyevich, a goose Socrates, and a dog Bishka. He trained them, that is, he taught them to do different tricks in the arena.

Usually trainers used a painful method: they tried to get obedience from the animal with a stick and beatings.

But Vladimir Durov abandoned this method of training. He was the first in the history of the circus to use a new method - a method of training not with beatings and a stick, but with affection, good treatment, treats, and encouragement. He did not torture the animals, but patiently accustomed them to himself. He loved animals, and animals became attached to him and obeyed him.

Soon the public fell in love with the young trainer. In his own way, he achieved much more than previous trainers. He came up with a lot of very interesting numbers.

Durov entered the arena in a bright, colorful clown costume.

Previously, before him, clowns worked silently. They made the audience laugh by slapping each other, jumping and somersaulting.

The circus was always full when Durov and his animal troupe performed.

Children especially loved Durov.

V.L. Durov traveled all over Russia, performing in various circuses and booths.

Gradually Durov acquired more and more new animals. The animal school grew.

“If only we could build a special house for animals! - Durov dreamed. “It would be spacious and comfortable for them to live there.” There one could calmly study animals, conduct scientific work, and train animals for performances.”

In 1927, the Moscow City Council, in honor of the 50th anniversary of V.L. Durov’s artistic activity, renamed the street where the “Corner” was located into Durov Street.

In 1934, Vladimir Leonidovich died.

Now the “Corner” has been expanded. Next to the old building, a new beautiful white-stone theater grew up - a whole town. The “Corner” now houses an animal theater, a menagerie, and a museum.

The menagerie houses animals that are now performing in the theater.

After the death of Vladimir Leonidovich Durov, he was replaced by a new generation of Durovs, who continued the work of the famous trainer.

Anna Vladimirovna Durova-Sadovskaya, Honored Artist of the RSFSR, artistic director of the theater, worked at the “Corner” for many years.

I grew up, one might say, among animals and saw how my father gently and patiently trained them. I also learned to understand the habits of animals and treat them carefully.

I will always remember the words of my father and grandfather that you first need to get to know the animal, all its characteristics and habits, and only after that you can teach it some number.

And so number follows number. Here is a white hare beating out several bars of a march on a drum. The gray crow importantly shouts to her friend: “Come on, come on,” the commentator’s talent rivals the Macaw parrot. Sea lion juggles. A fox and a rooster are eating peacefully from the same feeder. A wolf and a goat are spinning in an amazing waltz, and a hardworking bear is sweeping the territory...

All these miracles happening on stage are based on mutual trust between man and animal.

N. Yu. Durova,

People's Artist of the USSR and Russia, writer, laureate of the USSR State Prize, chief director and artistic director of the Grandfather Durov's Corner Theater.

OUR BUG

And suddenly our warden, the “uncle,” had his own dog, also Zhuchka. The life of our Bug immediately changed: the “uncle” cared only about his Bug, but beat and tortured ours. One day he splashed boiling water on her. The dog started running with a squeal, and then we saw: our Bug’s fur and even skin had peeled off on her side and back! We were terribly angry with the “uncle.” They gathered in a secluded corner of the corridor and began to figure out how to take revenge on him.

“We need to teach him a lesson,” the guys said.

What we need to do is... we need to kill his Bug!

Right! Drown!

Where to drown? Better to kill with a stone!

No, better hang it!

Right! Hang! Hang!

The “court” deliberated briefly. The verdict was adopted unanimously: death by hanging.

Wait, who will hang?

Everyone was silent. Nobody wanted to be an executioner.

Let's draw lots! - someone suggested.

Let's!

Look smooth! And our whole side is peeling.

CHUSHKA - FINTIFLYUSHKA

My animal school is called “Durov’s Corner”. It’s called a “corner,” but in fact it’s a big house, with a terrace and a garden. One elephant needs so much space! But I also have monkeys, and sea lions, and polar bears, and dogs, and hares, and badgers, and hedgehogs, and birds!..

My animals not only live, but learn. I teach them different things so that they can perform in the circus. At the same time, I study animals myself. This is how we learn from each other.

As in any school, I had good students, and there were worse ones. One of my first students was Chushka-Fintiflyushka - an ordinary pig.

Soon she got used to it and began to follow me on my heels. Where I go, Chushka-Fintiflushka goes. She learned her first lesson perfectly.

Chushka-Fintiflushka, turn over!

And she turned over and got a tasty “A”. So she learned to dance the waltz.

Since then, she has settled in a wooden house in a stable.

In the end, Chushka realized that she had to run along the barrier until the tip of the whip dropped. When he goes down, you need to go to the owner for a reward.

Gradually we raised the board higher and higher. Chushka jumped, sometimes broke down, jumped again... In the end, her muscles got stronger, and she became an excellent “gymnast-jumper.”

In this way I taught Chushka to “bow.” Number three is ready!

A few days later we began to learn the fourth number.

A barrel cut in half was brought into the arena and the half was placed upside down. The pig ran up, jumped onto the barrel and immediately jumped off the other side. But she received nothing for this. And the clapping of the chamberriere again drove the pig to the barrel. Chushka jumped over again and was again left without a reward. This happened many times. Chushka was exhausted, tired and hungry. She couldn't understand what they wanted from her.

Finally, I grabbed Chushka by the collar, put her on a barrel and gave her some meat. It was then that she realized: you just need to stand on the barrel and nothing else.

This became her favorite number. And really, what could be more pleasant: stand quietly on the barrel and get piece after piece.

This was repeated day after day. Eventually Chushka learned to carry me on her back. Now it was possible to perform with her in front of the public.

We had a dress rehearsal. Chushka did all the tricks she could perfectly.

Look, Chushka, - I said, - don’t disgrace yourself in front of the public!

Well, Chushka, aren’t you worried?

Durov, your way out! - said the circus director.

I entered the arena. Chushka ran after me. The children clapped happily when they saw the pig in the arena. Chushka got scared. I began to stroke her, saying:

Chushka, don't be afraid, Chushka...

She calmed down. I slammed the chamberriere, and Chushka, as in the rehearsal, jumped over the crossbar.

Everyone clapped, and Chushka, out of habit, ran up to me. I said:

Trinket, would you like some chocolate?

And he gave her meat. Chushka was eating, and I said:

The pig also understands taste! - And he shouted to the orchestra: - Please play the “Pig Waltz.”

The music started playing, and the Trinket began to spin around the arena. Oh, and the audience laughed!

Then a barrel appeared in the arena. Chushka climbed onto the barrel, I climbed onto Chushka and then I screamed:

And here comes Durov on a pig!

And again everyone clapped.

The “artist” jumped over various obstacles, then I jumped on her with a deft leap, and she, like a dashing horse, carried me out of the arena.

And the audience clapped with all their might and kept shouting:

Bravo, Chushka! Encore, Fintiflushka!

The first performance went as well as possible.

Little by little Chushka got used to the circus. She performed often, and the audience loved her very much.

But Chushkin’s successes haunted our clown. He was a famous clown; his last name was Tanti.

“How,” thought Tanti, “does an ordinary pig, a sow, enjoy more success than I, the famous Tanti?... This must be put to an end!”

After the show, I rushed to examine the pig. Nothing! I feel my nose, stomach, legs - nothing! I installed a thermometer and the temperature was normal.

I had to call the doctor.

He looked into her mouth and forcibly poured a large portion of castor oil into it.

After treatment, I tried to sit on Chushka again, but she again broke free and ran away. And if it weren’t for the employee who looked after Chushka, we would never have known what was going on.

Once my friends came to me:

Durov, let's go to a restaurant!

Okay, I replied. - Of course, you will go in a cab?

Of course,” the friends answered. - What are you on?

You'll see! - I answered and began to put Chushka into the cart.

He sat down on the “irradiator”, picked up the reins, and we rode along the main street.

Bravo! Bravo!

A crowd of children ran after us shouting:

Pig! Look, a pig!

That's how the horse is!

He won't get it!

He'll bring it to the barn!

Throw Durov in a puddle!

Suddenly a policeman appeared as if out of the ground. I reined in the "horse". The policeman shouted menacingly:

Who allowed?

“Nobody,” I answered calmly. - I don’t have a horse, so I’m riding a pig.

Turn the shafts! - the policeman shouted and grabbed Chushka by the bridle. - Drive through back alleys so that not a single soul can see you. And he immediately drew up a report against me. A few days later I was summoned to court.

I was acquitted. Then there was such a time: just a protocol and a trial.

Once Chushka almost died. Here is how it was. We were invited to a Volga city. Chushka was already very learned back then. We boarded the ship. I tied the pig on the deck to the railing of the balcony near a large cage, and in the cage sat a bear, Mikhail Ivanovich Toptygin. At first everything was fine. The steamer ran down the Volga. All the passengers gathered on the deck and looked at the learned pig and Mishka. Mikhail Ivanovich also looked at Chushka-Fintiflushka for a long time, then he touched the cage door with his paw - it was coming (apparently, the attendant, unfortunately, had not locked the cage properly). Our Mishka, don’t be a fool, opened the cage and, without hesitation, jumped out of it. The crowd backed away. Before anyone had time to come to their senses, the bear with a roar rushed at the learned pig Chushka-Fintiflyushka...

Although she is a scientist, she, of course, was not able to cope with the bear.

But Mikhail Ivanovich only roared louder, fiddling with Chushka. She squealed like the most ordinary, uneducated pig.

I had to quickly cut two rods out of the back wall. Only then did Chushka and I manage to escape to freedom. I was all scratched up, and Chushka was thoroughly dented.

Chushka was sick for a long time after this incident.

PIGTY PARACHUTTER

I had a pig, Khrushka. She flew with me! At that time there were no airplanes, but people took to the air in a hot air balloon. I decided that my Piggy should also take to the air. I ordered from white calico balloon(about twenty meters in diameter) and a silk parachute for it.

The ball rose into the air like this. A stove was built from bricks, straw was burned there, and the ball was tied to two pillars above the stove. About thirty people held him, gradually stretching him. When the ball was completely filled with smoke and warm air, the ropes were released and the ball rose.

But how to teach Piggy to fly?

I then lived in the country. So Piggy and I went out onto the balcony, and on the balcony I had a block built and felt-covered belts thrown over it. I put the straps on Piggy and began to carefully pull her up on the block. Piggy hung in the air. She kicked her legs desperately and squealed! But then I brought the future pilot a cup of food. Piggy, sensing something delicious, forgot about everything in the world and started eating lunch. So she ate, dangling her legs in the air and swaying on the straps.

I lifted her on the block several times. She got used to it and, having eaten, even slept, hanging on the straps.

I taught her to go up and down quickly.

Then we moved on to the second part of the training.

I put the belted Piggy on the platform where the alarm clock was. Then he brought a cup of food to Piggy. But as soon as her snout touched the food, I withdrew my hand with the cup. Piggy reached for something tasty, jumped off the platform and hung on the straps. At that very moment the alarm clock began to ring. I performed these experiments several times, and Piggy already knew that every time the alarm clock rang, she would receive food from my hands. In pursuit of the coveted cup, when the alarm clock rang, she herself jumped off the platform and swung in the air, waiting for a treat. She’s used to it: when the alarm clock goes off, she has to jump.

All is ready. Now my Piggy can go on an air trip.

Bright posters appeared on all the fences and posts in our dacha area:

PIG IN THE CLOUDS!

What happened on the day of the performance! Tickets for the country train were taken with a fight. The carriages were packed to capacity. Children and adults hung on the running boards.

Everyone said:

And how is it: a pig - yes in the clouds!

People don't know how to fly yet, but here's a pig!

There was only talk about the pig. Piggy became a famous person.

And so the show began. The ball was filled with smoke.

Piggy was brought out onto the platform, tied to the ball. We tied the pig to the parachute, and the parachute was attached to the top of the balloon with thin strings, just to hold the parachute. We set an alarm clock on the landing - in two or three minutes it will start to ring.

Now the ropes have been released. The balloon with the pig rose into the air. Everyone screamed and made noise:

Look, it's flying!

The pig will disappear!

Wow, know Durov!

When the ball was already high, the alarm clock began to ring. Piggy, accustomed to jumping at the sound of a bell, threw herself from the ball into the air. Everyone gasped: the pig flew down like a stone. But then the parachute opened, and Piggy, swaying smoothly, safely, like a real parachutist, descended to the ground.

After this first flight, the “parachutist” made many more air travels. She and I traveled all over Russia.

The flights were not without adventure.

In one city, Piggy ended up on the roof of a gymnasium. The situation was not pleasant. Having caught her parachute on a drainpipe, Piggy squealed with all her might. The schoolchildren left their books and rushed to the windows. Lessons were disrupted. There was no way to get Piggy. We had to call the fire brigade.

ELEPHANT BABY

Dwarf

In the city of Hamburg there was a large zoological garden, which belonged to a famous animal dealer. When I wanted to buy an elephant, I went to Hamburg. The owner showed me a little elephant and said:

This is not a baby elephant, this is an almost adult elephant.

Why is he so small? - I was surprised.

Because it's a dwarf elephant.

Are there really such things?

“As you can see,” the owner assured me.

I believed and bought an outlandish dwarf elephant. Because of its small stature, I gave the elephant the nickname Baby, which means “child” in English.

It was brought in a box with a window. The tip of the trunk often stuck out through the window.

When Baby arrived, he was released from the crate and a bowl of rice porridge and a bucket of milk were placed in front of him. The elephant patiently scooped up the rice with its trunk and popped it into its mouth.

An elephant's trunk is like a person's hands: Baby took food with his trunk, felt objects with his trunk, and caressed objects with his trunk.

Baby soon became attached to me and, caressing me, moved his trunk along my eyelids. He did this very carefully, but still such elephant caresses caused me pain.

Three months have passed.

My “dwarf” has grown a lot and gained weight. I began to suspect that in Hamburg they had deceived me and sold me not a dwarf elephant, but an ordinary six-month-old elephant calf. However, do dwarf elephants even exist in the world?

When my “dwarf” grew up, it became very funny to watch this huge animal play around and frolic like a child.

During the day, I took Baby out into the empty circus ring, while I watched him from the box.

At first he stood in one place, ears spread out, shaking his head and looking sideways. I shouted to him:

The baby elephant slowly moved around the arena, sniffing the ground with its trunk. Finding nothing but earth and sawdust, Baby began to play like children in the sand: he raked the earth into a pile with his trunk, then picked up part of the earth and sprinkled it on his head and back. Then he shook himself and hilariously flapped his mug ears.

But now, bending first her hind legs and then her front legs, Baby lies down on her stomach. Lying on her stomach, Baby blows into her mouth and covers herself with dirt again. He apparently enjoys the game: he slowly rolls from side to side, carries his trunk around the arena, scatters earth in all directions.

After lounging around to his heart's content, Baby comes up to the bed where I'm sitting and stretches out his trunk for a treat.

I get up and pretend to leave. The elephant's mood instantly changes. He is alarmed and runs after me. He doesn't want to be alone.

Baby couldn't stand being alone: he pricked his ears and roared. In the elephant barn, an employee had to sleep with him, otherwise the elephant would not give anyone peace with its roar. Even during the day, remaining alone for a long time in the stall, he first lazily played with his trunk with his chain, with which he was chained to the floor by his hind leg, and then began to get anxious and make noise.

In the stalls near Baby there was a camel on one side and a donkey Oska on the other. This was in order to fence off the horses standing in the stable, who were afraid of the elephant, kicked and reared.

Baby is used to his neighbors. When during a performance it was necessary to take a donkey or a camel into the arena, the baby elephant roared and pulled the chain with all its might. He wanted to run after his friends.

He especially became friends with Oska. Baby often stuck his trunk through the partition and gently stroked the donkey's neck and back.

Once Oska fell ill with an upset stomach, and he was not given the usual portion of oats. He hung his head sadly, hungry, and bored in the stall. And next to him, Baby, having eaten his fill, was having fun as best he could: he would either put a piece of hay in his mouth, then take it out, and turn it in all directions. By chance, Babin’s trunk with the hay reached out to the donkey. Oska did not miss it: he grabbed the hay and began to chew. Baby liked it. He began to rake up the hay with his trunk and pass it through the partition to his donkey friend...

Since I decided to weigh Baby. But where to get it suitable scales?

I had to take him to the station, where freight cars are weighed. The weigher looked at the unusual load with curiosity.

How many? - I asked.

Almost forty pounds! - answered the weigher.

This is an ordinary baby elephant! - I said gloomily. - Goodbye, miracle of nature - a small, dwarf elephant!..

Baby is afraid... of a broom

The elephant is not only smart, but also a patient animal. Look how torn the ears of any elephant working in the circus are. Usually trainers, when teaching an elephant to walk on “bottles”, or spin, or stand on its hind legs, or sit on a barrel, use pain rather than affection. If the elephant does not obey, they tear its ears with a steel hook or stick an awl under the skin. And the elephants endure everything. However, some elephants cannot stand the torture. Once upon a time in Odessa, a huge old elephant, Samson, became furious and began to destroy the menagerie. The servants could not do anything with him. Neither threats, nor beatings, nor treats helped. The elephant broke everything that came in its way. I had to dig it up and keep it in the hole for several days. In Odessa there was only talk about Samson:

Did you hear that Samson ran away?

But this is very dangerous! What if he runs through the streets?

We must kill him!

Kill such a rare animal?!

But Samson did not want to return to the menagerie. Then they decided to poison him. They filled a large orange with strong poison and presented it to Samson. But Samson did not eat and did not even allow the poisoners to approach him.

Then they offered those who wanted to kill Samson with a gun.

There were amateurs who even paid to “shoot at the target.” Having fired a mass of bullets, they finished off the giant.

And no one thought that if Samson had not been tortured in the menagerie, but had been treated kindly, then they would not have had to shoot him.

When teaching animals, I try to act with affection, a tasty morsel, and not with beatings. That's how I taught Baby. While making him do something, I caressed him, patted his chest and showed him sugar. And Baby listened to me.

Once we arrived in Kharkov. The train with my animals was unloaded at the freight station.

Baby appeared from the huge Pullman carriage. Its leader Nikolai, while sweeping the rubbish from under the elephant, accidentally touched Baby's leg with a broom. Baby angrily turned to the leader, spread out his mug ears - and did not move. Nikolai began to stroke Baby, patted him on the stomach, scratched him behind the ear, put carrots in his mouth - nothing helped. Baby didn't move. Nikolai lost patience. He remembered the old method of circus trainers and began to stab the elephant with a sharp awl and drag him by the ear with a steel hook. Baby roared in pain, shook his head, but did not move. Blood appeared on his ear. Eight servants with pitchforks and clubs came running to help Nikolai. They began to beat poor Baby, but the elephant only roared, shook its head, and did not move.

I was in the city at that time. They found me by phone. I immediately ran to Baby’s rescue - I drove away all his tormentors and, left alone with the elephant, called loudly and affectionately:

Here, Baby, here, little one!

Hearing a familiar voice, Baby became alert, raised his head, stuck out his trunk and began to noisily suck in air. He stood motionless for several seconds. Finally the huge carcass began to move. Slowly, carefully, Baby began to get out of the car, testing the boards of the gangway with his trunk and foot to see if they were strong and would withstand him.

When the elephant stepped onto the platform, the employees quickly closed the carriage door. I continued to affectionately call the stubborn man. Baby quickly and decisively approached me, grabbed my arm above the elbow with his trunk and slightly pulled me towards him. And now he felt an orange on his slippery tongue. Baby held the orange in his mouth, slightly stuck out his “burdocks” and quietly, with a slight grunt, released air from his trunk.

Thus, with affection, I achieved what nine people armed with pitchforks and clubs could not achieve.

Along the way we met adults and children. They were running after the elephant. Many handed him apples, oranges, White bread, candies. But Baby paid no attention to all these wonderful things; He followed me with an even step. And I brought him safely to the circus.

The first performance in Kharkov went as well as possible. But a day later the second performance began. I stood in the middle of the arena. The public waited for their favorite elephant to come out.

Just as I was about to shout: “Baby, here,” when suddenly an elephant’s head appeared from behind the scenes. I knew right away: Baby was excited. His ears are spread out, and his trunk is curled like a snail. He walked very quickly, but not at all towards me. He didn't even notice me and headed straight to the main exit.

Sensing something bad, I rushed to Baby... but that was not the case. Without paying any attention to me, he still walked into the foyer with the same wide, fast steps. Here he was met with rakes, pitchforks and barriers by circus employees and grooms. Blows rained down on the ill-fated elephant. The audience jumped up from their seats. A crowd formed at the exit doors. Someone was pinned down. There was a commotion and a squabble.

I rushed to Baby. Together with the employees, we hung on it. But Baby firmly decided to leave the hated circus. He walked straight to the door. Afraid of being crushed, we jumped away from the giant. He went outside. The employees ran after him.

I returned to the arena: I couldn’t run down the street in a clown outfit, with my face painted for the show. In addition, we need to reassure the public. I raised my hand and said:

Children, Baby’s tummy hurt, and he himself went to the pharmacy for castor oil.

The audience laughed and returned to their seats. The children laughed and cheerfully repeated:

The elephant has a tummy ache!

The elephant went to the pharmacy on its own!

He probably needs a bucket of castor oil!

Smart elephant!

Just let him come back soon!

I wanted the same thing myself. I was very worried about Baby. Where is he now? But I pulled myself together and continued the performance. I finished the routine and left the arena on a trio of Ostyak dogs.

Finding myself backstage, I quickly changed my clothes, wiped the paint off my face, jumped out into the street and, in the first cab I came across, rushed in pursuit of the fugitive.

Baby managed to alarm the whole city. Passers-by showed me the way. I rushed to the station. But then I met a circus employee. He jumped into my carriage and shouted:

Do not worry! Baby is safe... He ran to the freight platform... right where we were unloading.

How did he find his way? Who took him?

Myself. I remember that means...

Driver, drive! - I shouted.

And here we are at the station. From a distance I noticed Baby. He stood on the very platform where he got out of the carriage. There is a crowd of curious people all around. I went. The crowd parted. I called:

Baby, here!

The elephant immediately raised its trunk, turned to me and roared joyfully.

The crowd wavered, respectfully making way for the elephant. Baby let out air noisily through his trunk and, flapping his ears, followed me.

Then I found out all the details. Before the elephant entered the arena, Nikolai took a broom and began sweeping the dung under him. At first Baby didn't notice the broom. But suddenly the thin, bending rods accidentally touched the elephant’s legs. Baby shuddered, picked up his butt, pressed it short tail and ran into the arena.

From the circus he went straight to the station. He walked with a confident step through the streets and alleys, never losing his way.

At the gate goods yard, near the station, he stopped for a minute in thought. The bolts and lock blocked the way. But Baby didn’t think long. The giant leaned slightly on the gate. A minute - and the lock, bolts, staples and beams flew in different directions.

Baby walked around the long stone warehouses and headed towards the familiar platform. He did not find the carriages: they were transferred to a siding. But Baby was not upset. He began to indifferently pick up with his trunk the rubbish, paper and straw that remained on the platform after unloading.

Why was the huge elephant afraid of a harmless broom?

Circus performers at that time were distinguished by superstition. They were afraid if the piece of paper with the role fell on the floor: a bad omen - there would be no success. They did not allow the circus to be swept with a broom, saying: “This means sweeping the well-being out of the circus.”

Instead of a broom, the circus always used only a rake.

Baby knew an iron rake very well and was completely unfamiliar with a broom. She probably seemed like a monster to him, and he fled shamefully.

A huge elephant was frightened by a broom that accidentally fell into the circus.

In the evening, he again performed in the arena as if nothing had happened, crunching on the sugar he had earned. And the children clapped and shouted:

Baby has recovered! Baby no longer has a tummy ache!

And the broom, of course, was thrown away...

Baby hairdresser

I had an assistant, a dwarf, nicknamed Vanka-Vstanka. Together with Baby, they acted out a funny skit “In the hairdresser” in the arena. The audience really loved this number.

Tiny Vanka-Vstanka enters the arena. I shout menacingly:

Vanka-Vstanka! Aren't you ashamed to speak in public unshaven? I need to shave you! Go change and I'll set up a hair salon here.

The dwarf leaves. A huge bed with a huge pillow stuffed with hay is brought into the arena. Next to the bed is a nightstand. There is a candle on the cabinet, in a candlestick. In another corner of the arena there is a table, and on the table there are long iron tongs and a huge wooden razor. There is a chair at the table tall legs, a forge with smoldering coals, a sharpener. At the entrance there is decoration: a door and a window with a sign:

HAIRDRESSER FROM PARIS ELEPHANTS HAIRCUT AND BREAK

The door opens. Baby appears. I present it to the public. The elephant bows. I speak:

Tidy up your hair salon, brush off the dust and go to bed. Tomorrow we have to get up early: clients will come.

Baby comes up to the table, grabs the handle of the drawer with his trunk, pulls it out and takes out a napkin. Wiping the dust off the table, he sweeps the tongs and razor onto the floor. Then the “hairdresser” begins to move the rag over the painted window, as if wiping the glass.

Sleep, master, sleep! - I say.

Baby comes up to the bed and with his trunk rummages under the pillow for a giant “bug”, half a meter in size. Baby puts the “bug” on the ground and steps on it with his foot. The "bug", made from a pig's bladder, bursts loudly. The audience laughs.

Having crushed the “bug”, Baby stands with all feet on the bed. This is how he goes to bed. Then he picks up a pillow with his trunk and pretends to throw it at the candlestick. I shout:

What are you doing? Is this how to put out candles? - I tear out the pillow. - Put it out!

Baby stretches out his trunk and blows on the candle. The candle and the candlestick flies to the ground. I speak:

This is who should be invited to join the fire department.

There's a knock on the door. Vanka-Vstanka enters. He is wearing a funny colorful coat and a bald wig. I bow to the "client". Baby also shakes his head respectfully.

Sit down!

The dwarf sits down. I tie a napkin for him:

Anything?

Curl it,” says the dwarf, pointing to his bald head.

But what are we going to curl?... - I’m surprised. - Master of Elephants, check the visitor's head.

Baby rolls up his trunk like a snail and gently taps it on Vanka-Vstanka’s head. I take the tongs:

Heat it up!

The elephant takes the lever of the forge and begins to pump air. I add sparklers. The circus is illuminated with bright red light.

Please sharpen your razor.

The “hairdresser” turns the handle of the sharpener with his trunk.

Now would you like to whip up some shaving soap?

I give Baby a bucket and a mop. The elephant wraps its trunk around the “brush” and whisks soap in a bucket.

Enough!

Baby moves a mop over the dwarf's head. Vanka-Vstanka is horrified. He screams and dangles his short arms and legs, and Baby busily collects soap from Vanka’s head... into his mouth.

I hand the “master” a wooden razor. Baby begins to “shave.” The “client” shouts with good obscenities:

Oh, that's enough! Let me go, that's enough!

He takes off and runs to the exit. Baby catches up with him. I speak:

Pay!

The “client” takes out a piece of sugar from his pocket.

The “barber” chews sugar and bows to the audience. Then we hide behind the curtain.

The children really liked this complex scene. It was not so easy to prepare it. It took a lot of work and patience. But here, as always, I acted only with affection and never hit my four-legged student Baby.

The elephant loved me and was obedient and kind. But sometimes he had fits of stubbornness.

One time I took him to the arena for rehearsal. Suddenly Baby decided to turn left, into the dimly lit passage under the gallery. I blocked the road and shouted:

But Baby stood rooted to the spot. I grabbed him by the ear and pulled him forcefully to the side. Baby roared, broke free and moved towards the same passage. I caught him by the ear again and turned him back again. But Baby didn't listen. I began to gently persuade him and put a piece of sugar in his mouth. In response, there was an unimaginable roar, as if I had slipped poison into the elephant. Baby spat out the sugar and again reached for the dark passage. “Okay, stubborn guy,” I decided, “you’ll know!” In the passage, under the gallery, there was an iron stove. At that time she was drowning and was very hot. I thought: “Baby, passing under the gallery, will definitely touch the hot stove.” I let go of his ear and stepped back. Baby went wherever he wanted, reached the stove and, of course, got burned. He backed away, tucked his short tail and ran towards me. I waited silently. Baby lowered his trunk and began to hum pitifully. I stroked him quietly, patted his ear, and Baby fell silent. I started rehearsal. The stubborn man was punished.

Baby traveled with me to different cities. When we arrived somewhere and walked from the station to the circus, a crowd gathered around us. The boys marveled at the elephant’s long trunk and its thick legs.

They besieged the circus for days. They found cracks in the wall, stuck sticks through them and teased Baby. And Baby, in response, put his trunk to the crack and blew on the hooligans.

There was an incident in one city that I will never forget.

Our summer circus was on the square. The roof of the circus was made of canvas. At night, a strong wind arose and tore down the canvas and electrical wires. There was pitch darkness. Fortunately, there was no audience at the circus. But there were artists, ministers, animals. In the darkness, the screams of people, the trampling of horses, the cracking of breaking boards were heard... Baby roared deafeningly.

I felt for a kerosene lamp in the dark, lit it and rushed to the elephant. In the scanty light of the lamp, I saw that Baby’s entire stall was destroyed. The pillars that held the beam and chain were torn out of the ground along with the boards. Baby, overcome with horror, raised his trunk high, spread out his ears and jerked his leg with the chain, trying to break away from the beam. At the same time, he roared at the top of his lungs. He dragged the beam behind him; she got stuck in the passage. The elephant was torn and roared. Horses reared in nearby stalls. I understood that the distraught Baby could kill me. But there was no choice: I had to calm the elephant down at all costs.

I approached him, lighting the way with a dim lamp, and called tenderly:

Baby, Baby!

When I got to Baby, I started petting him, scratching his belly, tugging his ear; I hugged him, kissed his trunk - nothing helped. Baby went crazy. He struggled with the chain, causing himself terrible pain: the chain dug deeper and deeper into his leg. Then he fell to his knees and almost ran over me. He raked the earth with his trunk and turned out stones.

But then the circus was filled with weak light - the employees found spare lamps. The wind became quieter. With great difficulty I managed to remove the chain from the elephant's leg.

Feeling relieved, Baby stopped crying. For a long time he could not calm down, he shuddered, pricked his ears and let out air noisily through his trunk.

It's a good thing the beam got stuck and Baby couldn't break free! Mad with fear, he would have caused a lot of trouble and would have had to be shot.

Baby thief

Baby loved it when the servant Nikolai lubricated his body with Vaseline. Vaseline protects the skin from frost: if not lubricated, elephant skin dries out and cracks. Elephant ears are especially sensitive.

It used to be that Baby would stand in the stall, and Nikolai would diligently rub him. The elephant's skin begins to shine dapperly. Baby becomes soft and begins to play pranks: shakes his head, dangles his trunk like a rope, tries to push the stool with his foot.

He also played a lot during bathing. And he loved to swim. In Crimea, in Yevpatoria, crowds of vacationers spent hours watching my Baby swim in the sea. The elephant tumbled in the waves like an acrobat. He took sand from the bottom with his trunk, smeared it on his head and back, and hit the water with his trunk. Having played enough, he plunged into the water with his head - only his short tail stuck out of the water. The audience laughed.

Baby was a big beggar. I fed him very well, and yet he always begged the public for gifts. The public loved him and generously treated him. The children especially tried. They endlessly shoved various delicacies into his tenacious trunk.

It used to be that Baby would come out into the arena and let’s bow. Treats are thrown at him from all sides. And the beggar nods his head and crunches on sweets and sugar.

Baby begged everywhere: in the circus, on the street, at train stations. Once at the station, when we were unloading from the carriage, women selling food gathered around Baby. Baby noticed a basket of cabbage, potatoes and carrots. The basket was held by a girl of about eleven. Forgetting about everything in the world, the girl looked at the unprecedented beast.

Without hesitation, Baby extended his trunk, grabbed the basket and put it all, along with cabbage, potatoes and carrots, into his mouth.

The girl froze in surprise. Silently she watched the elephant swallow her basket.

Baby ate (he apparently liked it) and, out of habit, began to bow vigorously: he thanked him for the treat. The girl was confused, blinked her eyes and in response also began to nod to the elephant. The audience laughed. Perhaps, even in the circus, Baby did not have a better act.

Laughter brought the girl to her senses. She looked back at the crowd and began to cry. I had to pay for the vegetables and for the basket.

Sometimes Baby amused himself with petty theft. He was not picky and picked up everything that was in bad shape. If he comes across a jacket thrown by the leader - Baby grabs the jacket and puts it all, along with the pockets where tobacco, a wallet, a penknife and even a passport are, into his mouth. Passing by the artist's restroom, he would steal wigs, makeup paints, and dresses whenever the opportunity presented itself. He hid all this in one place - in his mouth.

Once he even tried to swallow a burning kerosene lamp.

Try to prove to him that stealing is wrong!

At the chalkboard

There is a school in the arena. On the desks, like real schoolchildren, sit sea lions, pigs, an elephant, a calf, a donkey, a pelican, a fox terrier, Peak, and a large St. Bernard, Lord.

Baby is one of the first students. He gets straight A's, and even a plus. He is especially strong in arithmetic.

I call Baby to the board:

Baby, what is three and four?

Baby takes a huge piece of chalk with his trunk and draws seven thick sticks on the board. Sometimes he wrote in such a sweeping, elephantine handwriting that the units did not fit on the board.

Lord, how many units are missing on the board?

And the Lord barked exactly as many times as necessary. And the pelican, sitting on the second bench, hissed at the whole “class”.

I chided the pelican:

You can't give me hints... Not good.

As you can see, just like in a real school. And there are even books on the desks.

The books were special, wooden, and the students leafed through them as best they could: the pig with its snout, the donkey with its snout, the pelican with its beak long, like scissors, and the sea lions with flippers.

It happened that Baby would display more sticks on the board than necessary. Then Leo, the sea lion, ran up to the board, stood on his hind flippers, rested his left flipper on the board, and erased the extra units with his right.

The audience applauded and was surprised. It all seemed like something of a miracle to her. But there is no miracle here. I spent a long time and patiently teaching the animals all these movements. And some things didn’t even need to be taught. So, for example, sitting in the arena at a desk, old dog The lord often yawned, opening his mouth wide. I didn’t teach him this - he yawned from fatigue. And I said:

Lord is a bad student: he yawns in class. We need to give him a four in terms of behavior.

And the audience laughed.

But now the lesson is over. The desks are cleared and student Baby approaches his teacher. I lie down on the ground. Baby raises his legs high and carefully steps over me. The audience gasps and applauds.

Baby quickly runs around the arena and again, raising his legs even higher, strides over my helplessly outstretched body.

Here he is standing above me. I command:

Hello, Baby!

And the elephant slowly begins to bend its hind legs, kneels down, then bends its front legs and carefully lowers itself onto me.

It will crush, it will crush! - the audience shouts.

Enough!

Oh, crushed!..

But Baby doesn’t even think of pushing me. True, it contains about three tons, and if he really lay on me, the teacher would be left with a wet spot, but Baby feels his enormous weight. As soon as his belly gets closer to me, Baby turns to stone. He strains all his muscles, tries to hold himself in a difficult position and only hums anxiously. From this hum I know that Baby wants to quickly finish the tiring routine and get up.

Baby slowly rises, straightening his thick, column-like legs. The audience breathes a sigh of relief.

Baby, hello!

And the huge elephant raises its front legs. Here he is standing on only his hind legs, raising his front legs high, and balancing. And I stand under him with outstretched arms. And it seems that at any moment the elephant will not be able to stand on two legs and the heavy carcass will collapse on me.

I jump back. Baby puts his front feet on the ground and releases air through his trunk with relief. The audience applauds.

I make Baby raise her trunk and open her mouth. He obediently does it. Then I put my head in his mouth and spread my arms. The audience freezes. Baby stands still, despite the fact that my hair tickles his slippery tongue. In this position I cannot shout: “Halle!” I wait until the audience starts applauding and shouting, “That’s enough!” Sometimes you have to wait a long time, but nothing can be done. And when the audience finally starts clapping, I take my head out of Baby's mouth and we both bow. You have to respond to applause; it’s not good to be impolite.

SEA LIONS LEO, PIZZI AND VASKA

Leo the cashier

In the arena are the sea lions Leo, Pizzi and Vaska. They, like seals and walruses, have flippers instead of legs. In the seas where these animals live, they feel great, but on land they become clumsy and clumsy, because flippers are not legs after all.

Sea lions eat fish. They swallow it whole without chewing because they have very sparse teeth. They always try to swallow fish from the head so as not to scratch their esophagus with bones and fins.

Sometimes sea lions come to land and settle in huge herds on the shore. During the day they play in the sun and at night they sleep with their heads on top of each other.

That's when it's good to hunt for them. At night, hunters, armed with clubs with sharp nails, quietly crawl in single file against the wind to the place where the herd is located. The hunters try to crawl in such a way as to cut off the sea lions' escape route to the water. Then they immediately jump up and, with noise and uproar, shooting into the air, rush at the sleeping animals.

Frightened sea lions sleepily rush in different directions. Those that reach the water cannot be caught. The hunters rush to the others and drive them away from the water - to a village or paddock.

This is how my friends were caught, who are now standing with me in the arena in front of the public.

The audience greets them with applause. Lions climb onto the pedestals.

There is a separate cabinet for each: for Leo, for Pizzi and for Vaska.

I walk up to Leo and, as if we were military men, I put my hand to the visor and salute. Leo raises his flipper to the laughter of the whole circus and also “salutes me.”

What a commander anyway! - the children shout merrily.

And I extend my hand to Leo:

Hello Leo!

Leo doesn't refuse a "handshake." He extends his slippery, flexible flipper in a friendly manner.

I turn to Pizzi:

And you, Pizzi, now tell me what the very first letter is in the alphabet.

These are not seals - these are sea lions.

Mermen?

Yes, yes, merman... Don’t interfere, look!

And Pizzi cranes his neck and answers in a dull, guttural voice:

Right! - the children shout in delight and clap furiously.

Back to Leo:

Please show me, Leo, how people fight, how they shoot at each other.

The attendants bring the stand into the arena. A gun with a rope is attached to it. Leo runs up to the stand, takes the rope with his teeth and, under the command “Fire!” pulls. A deafening shot is heard. Children cover their ears. Pizzi screams pitifully and rubs his back with his flipper, as if Leo had hit Pizzi.

But our Pizzi-lioness is lying, pretending,” says the dwarf Vanka-Vstanka.

But Vaska stands up for Pizzi. How dare he offend the lioness Pizzi?

Vaska jumps off the pedestal, opens his mouth wide and runs after Vanka-Vstanka. And Vanka runs away as fast as he can.

Then I say:

Leo, you will be the most important: call so that the show can begin.

The attendant brings a cabinet with a large bell. Leo runs up to the cabinet and rings the bell.

The kids are happy.

Leo is the smartest of them all! - they shout.

It's true: Leo is the smartest.

I take a big rubber ball and throw it to Leo. Leo doesn't yawn. He hits the ball back to me with his nose. We begin fun game. Leo hits the ball well. As a reward I give him a fish. Leo eats the fish, then picks up the ball with his nose, holds it on his nose, tosses it and catches it again on the tip of his nose. This is not an easy number, not everyone can do it.

Then Vanka-Vstanka runs out into the arena. The children greet him like an old friend:

Vanka-Vstanka again!

Again small man!

Not a small person, but a dwarf!

And Vanka-Vstanka pushes Leo and squeaks:

Hey Hey! I want to play ball too!

Vaska gets off the pedestal, the dwarf runs away, and Vaska hurries after him, chasing away the bully. Then he returns to his place with a satisfied look.

I take the box labeled “Cashier” and say:

Look, Leo, I have a cash register here, I put a goldfish in it. And you are the cashier. Take care of the fish, don't give it to anyone. I'll come check it later!..

I put the box on the ground and walk away. Without hesitation, the “cashier” runs up to the cash register, opens the lid with his nose, takes out a fish and eats it.

But Vanka-Vstanka is right there:

Guard, guard! Leo is stealing fish!

Leo runs away. But you can't fool me. I strictly say:

Where's the fish, cashier? Where did you put the fish?

Leo lies on his back and hits his stomach with his flipper, as if he wants to say: “That’s where your fish is!”

The audience laughs.

And Vaska drives away the dwarf informer.

How Leo taught Vaska

At first I had only two lions: Leo and Pizzi, and I bought Vaska later, in the St. Petersburg Zoological Garden. They didn't teach him anything there. He was wild, gloomy and resistant to training. As soon as I would approach his room, he would instantly fall into the water away from me.

I decided: let him get used to it first - and put him in the same pool with Leo.

Leo was not very happy with the new tenant. At first they fought, but then they got used to it, reconciled and lived in harmony.

However, Vaska still remained gloomy and cheerless.

When I approached the pool, Leo jumped onto the platform and greeted me with a joyful cry. Vaska timidly stuck his head out and looked at me incredulously. If I threw Leo a fish, Vaska would angrily bare his teeth.

But time took its toll. Now Vaska, having received the fish, timidly puts his head on the platform, but he even decides to sit on the platform. This was a great achievement.

At that time I was conducting my regular rehearsals with Leo, who was a very bright student.

The rehearsal began like this: Leo's cage opened; Leo jumped out of the water and slid down the boardwalk into the arena; there he climbed onto his pedestal and waited for orders. Vaska did not go further than the threshold of the cage. He looked at Leo with envy, but did not dare to leave the cage.

After work, Leo, having eaten his fill of fish, would return to his cage with an important air, and the hungry Vaska would only click his teeth.

Several days passed. And then once, when Leo and I had just started rehearsing, I saw Vaska going down the ramp into the arena. He crawled to Leo's cabinet, but did not dare climb on it.

Suddenly Leo turned around, noticed Vaska, jumped off the cabinet, poked Vaska with his nose, as if wanting to cheer him up, and returned to his place.

I threw Vaska a fish. He caught it on the fly. I took a careless, sharp step and scared Vaska away. He turned, preparing to run away. Then an incredible thing happened: Leo jumped off the pedestal again and bravely blocked Vaska’s path.

It was strange to see little Leo standing in a militant pose next to the huge Vaska. Leo pressed his nose against his comrade, as if saying: “Stop, don’t move!”

He held Vaska back and then returned to his place. I threw Leo a fish. He caught her and looked back at Vaska with a short bark, as if he wanted to say: “Go, don’t be afraid, you’ll get it too!”

And Vaska boldly moved towards the cabinet.

I watched in amazement as one animal taught another a lesson.

I haven't seen this yet!

From that day on, Vaska’s studies became more successful.

One day after the show I decided to do a rehearsal with my sea lions. I turned on the electricity and got to work. Vaska and Leo sat down on the tables with importance.

I took the ball and threw it to Leo. Leo deftly threw the ball back with his nose. I threw the ball to Vaska. Vaska was horrified. As if stung, he fell off the pedestal and climbed through the barrier into the public areas.

Now he has already climbed over the second row of seats. It’s good that there was no one in the circus, otherwise there would have been quite a commotion.

Then Leo came to the rescue: he ran into the aisle between the rows and blocked Vaska’s path. Vaska froze with his mouth open. And Leo began to carefully and tenderly rub his muzzle against Vaska’s neck. The caress worked.

Vaska calmed down and with a short bark, waddling, returned after Leo to the arena.

Leo climbed into his seat and began to wait for his reward. But Vaska did not go to his room. He pressed himself against the cabinet of his teacher Leo - and did not move.

Leo didn't like it. He immediately changes his treatment of the student. There is no mention of affection. He turns sternly to the disobedient student and bares his teeth. Vaska, willy-nilly, goes to his cabinet.

I try to throw the ball differently. I throw it to Leo over Vaska - let Vaska first get used to the movement of the ball.

Vaska tries to give traction again, but Leo watches him vigilantly. Almost immediately, Leo is right there and blocks the fugitive’s path.

The ball flies in the air lower and lower, closer and closer to Vaska. Finally the ball hits him. Vaska quickly grabs the rubber ball with his sparse, sharp teeth, bites through it and furiously throws it to the side. I give him fish - he calms down.

In order to tame Vaska, I began to stroke him often. And with my right hand I bring him the fish, and with my left I lightly touch his neck. Little by little Vaska gets used to my hand. He even allows himself to be patted on the back.

So I became friends with the wild, embittered Vaska and again began experimenting with the ball.

Here are Vaska and I in the arena. I have a fish in my right hand and a ball in my left. Vaska greedily grabs the fish. But he hates the ball. He furiously pushes it away with his teeth.

Here Leo comes to the rescue again: he gets off the stand, crawls up to the ball and, burying his nose in it, remains lying in this position for several seconds. By this he shows Vaska that the ball should not be bitten and that there is nothing to be afraid of.

With Leo's help I was successful. In the end, Vaska mastered the science and did almost everything that his teacher, the sea lion Leo, did.

Pizza diver

One day I was sitting by the pool and watching my sea lions frolic in the water. Here Pizzi dived into the depths, then emerged - her dark, slippery head appeared. She squinted and snorted; Water was flowing from her.

I called tenderly:

A thought flashed through my mind: is it possible to teach her, like a dog, to retrieve an object thrown into the water? I took out a nut, put it on a stick and threw it into the pool. The heavy nut pulled the stick to the bottom.

Pizza, apport! - I shouted, as they shout to diving dogs.

Pizzi did not immediately understand what was happening, but after a short training - half an hour later - she dived and returned, holding a stick with a nut in her teeth.

Of course, she was rewarded with a large portion of fish.

I decided to complicate the experiment. I threw the stick unnoticed, so Pizzi couldn’t see, then I shouted:

Shersh! Search!

The sea lion immediately disappeared into the muddy water. Will he find it?

A minute later, Pizzi surfaced. She had a stick in her teeth. Well done, Pizzi!

I took the cigarette case out of my pocket and threw it into the water:

Shersh, Pizzi!

Pizzi obediently went to the bottom. After a short search, she brought a cigarette case.

So Pizzi became a “diver”.

Then I threw pieces of iron wrapped in rags into the pool. Every day I added iron, and Pizzi got everything. Finally, she began to lift a rag from the bottom of the pool, which contained more than twenty pounds of iron. Here I changed the word “shersh” (search) to “save.”

And then one day I brought a large doll, the size of a person. Instead of a head, she had an inflated bull bladder with oil-painted eyes, a nose and a mouth. The bubble prevented the doll from drowning. At the word “save,” Pizzi slid across the water and... grabbed the bubble with her teeth. Sharp fangs instantly tore the thin film, the air came out of the bubble with a whistle, and the doll sank.

Pizzi returned to me, expecting a reward. Of course, I didn’t give her anything for such a “salvation.” She was disappointed.

Taking out the doll and attaching a new bubble head was a matter of one minute. And now the doll is on the water again, and I shout again:

Pizza to the rescue!

And what! The smart animal realized that when saving the doll, it was impossible to grab its head. Pizzi dragged the “drowning woman”, holding her tightly by the hem of her dress.

Now she fully deserves her reward.

The next time I attached a sinker to the doll, and it sank to the bottom. I shouted:

Pizza to the rescue!

The lioness rushed into the depths of the pool. A few minutes later her head appeared. In her teeth she held an outstretched stuffed animal.

When Pizzi had fully grasped the word “save,” the dwarf Vanka-Vstanka climbed into the water.

I shouted:

Pizza to the rescue!

Pizzi immediately rushed to the dwarf, grabbed him by the shirt and pulled Vanka-Vstanka “to the shore.” He snorted:

This is a diver! But it was so fast, she didn’t even let me take a swim!

My assistant went into the water after the dwarf. Pizzi “saved” him too.

Assistant said:

But what if you train her, she will save real drowning people too!

I thought about this myself.

And Pizzi, having eaten, dived into the water again and began to frolic and have fun with her comrades - Leo and Vaska.

Grand concert

Sometimes we organized concerts. I entered the arena, bowed and explained:

Now there will be a performance by the famous world orchestra. World musicians perform the opera “Some into the forest, some for firewood.” Artists, please take the stage!

The "artists" enter the arena.

A leather case is placed over Leo's right flipper. A reed stick with a felt knob is sewn to the leather. Leo will be the drummer. A large drum is placed next to his stand. A car horn is attached to the lioness Pizzi's cabinet.

I command:

Pizzi presses his fin on the horn and blows a trumpet, Leo beats the drum, and Vaska claps his fins and applauds.

Suddenly a huge elephant, Baby, comes out. He approaches the organ, grabs the handle with his trunk and starts turning it. The barrel organ plays a cheerful song.

But this is not the whole orchestra. The most important thing is missing - the singer.

I command:

Bring the lead singer!

The singer enters the arena. It has four legs, a tail and long ears. I meet him:

Please, famous maestro! I hope you are in good spirits today?

You probably guessed that this is a donkey. He climbs onto a special platform. There is a music stand with wooden “notes” and copper plates. “Maestro” sings in a wild voice:

Yo-io-io!..

The audience laughs. The donkey, without embarrassment, brays:

Yo-io-io!

He flips through the wooden sheets of “notes” with his muzzle, and hits the cymbals with his hoof.

The grand concert begins.

The elephant plays the barrel organ, the donkey plays the cymbals, Leo plays the drum, Pizzi plays the car horn, and Vaska is the conductor: he waves his flippers to the beat of the music.

Trying to shout above the animal music, I loudly announce:

And now the famous ballerina will perform and dance a waltz!

A yellow-pink pelican runs into the arena. The audience greets the bird with applause. The pelican, to the sounds of unimaginable music, begins to spin around the arena: it flaps its wings, jumps, bends and keeps spinning and spinning, as if it were actually waltzing.

The children shout enthusiastically:

Pelikasha! Pelikaichik!..

I command:

Instantly everyone stops. The music fades out. The musicians' departure begins. The “Great Maestro” with long ears leaves the arena. Vanka-Vstanka takes the pelican away, and Leo and Pizzi importantly sit in the carriage, and Vaska takes them from the arena to the stable.

Baby comes up to me, grabs me across my body with his trunk and carefully places me on my head. And I solemnly leave on an elephant, blowing kisses to the audience.

The circus trembles with applause:

Leo and I are going out for an encore. Leo sits down on the stand, bows and hits his fin against his fin. I shout:

Ride it, Leo!

Leo lies flat on the sand, presses his fins “at the seams” and begins to roll around the arena.

Here they are - Pizzi, Leo and Vaska!

KASHTANKA, BISHKA AND PAYTAYKA

Have you read A. Chekhov's story “Kashtanka”? This story talks about the dog Kashtanka. She lived with a carpenter. Then she went for a walk through the streets and got lost. She was picked up by a circus performer, named Auntie and taught to perform in the arena. And then one day, when she was performing at the circus, someone suddenly shouted from the gallery:

Kashtanka! Kashtanka!

This story happened to me. It was I who found Kashtanka; I trained her and performed with her, and I told Anton Pavlovich Chekhov about her. But now I won’t talk about Kashtanka: better than Chekhov I can't write. And I'll tell you about Bishka.

Bishka was an ordinary mongrel. But this did not stop her from becoming a wonderful artist.

One day I was playing the piano. Bishka was dozing on an armchair, curled up in a ball.

Suddenly someone pushed me. Without stopping playing, I moved my foot away. A minute later there was another push. I look - Bishka.

What do you want, Bishka?

Bishka is silent. I keep playing. Bishka touches me with his paw again.

“Does a dog really have an ear for music? - I thought. - Need to check".

I start playing a sad, very sad tune. And what? The dog sighs, looks at me sadly, there are tears in his eyes.

I switch to a cheerful, vigorous march. Bishka's ears rise, his eyes sparkle. I was convinced that Bishka has a good ear for music.

Bishka carried out my orders perfectly. For example, I order:

Go to the box, to that military man over there, and grab him by the third button of his coat.

Bishka rushes into the box and does everything exactly. I address the public:

My Bishka is a wonderful musician! Let someone tell you what note to play on the piano.

The audience shouts:

Let F... Bishka, take the note F! - I say.

A smart dog approaches the piano, raises its paw and hits the key.

The public listens:

That's right, fa, fa!..

Besides,” I announce, “my Bishka is also a good mathematician.” Look, here are posters with numbers. What number will you order for Bishke?

Let it be eight... - I say. - Bishka, please, bring us a poster with the number “eight”. Just don't get confused.

Bishka runs up to the posters, touches them with his paws, snatches the number “eight” and brings it to me in his teeth.

Besides Bishka, I also had a dachshund, Zapyatayka. She was also a good mathematician. And besides, she knew geography very well.

She won’t confuse the Caspian Sea with the Baltic Sea!

Please, dear Professor Zapyatayka, - I turn to the dachshund, - please show us where the White Sea is, otherwise we don’t know.

The “Professor” rushes to the map laid out in the arena and points to the White Sea with his paw and muzzle.

The audience laughs:

It’s immediately obvious that the professor has been to the North!

He probably discovered the North Pole!

Zapatayka - the famous polar traveler!

One day she, Zapyatayka, saved all the stray dogs in the city of Penza.

This was still under the king. We then lived in the city of Penza. I went to the governor to ask permission to stage a performance. I didn’t find the governor himself. His assistant was sitting in the office.

I had barely stated my case when suddenly a lady came in, upset, with tears on her face. The assistant to the governor (vice-governor), seeing the lady, rises and asks:

Why are you crying, madam?

And she answers:

Ah, ah!.. I saw it at the market... It’s downright terrible... Policemen chase stray dogs, mercilessly throw nooses over them and take them somewhere. The poor dogs are squealing... Such torture! Why do you allow policemen to torture dogs?... Isn’t it really possible to do something?

It would be good to stop this,” I said.

“It’s not up to me,” the assistant answered. - It depends on the governor himself. Contact him. Come, too,” he turned to me, “as a defender of animals: stand up for the dogs.” I'll tell you to be accepted.

I agreed. I came up with a little trick. Zapatayka is the one who will save his comrades, the Penza stray dogs, from death!

In the evening I found myself in the governor’s luxurious apartment. The conversation turned to dogs.

You know, I say, there are very interesting cases when dogs carry out various instructions inspired by them.

It’s a pity,” said the governor, “that this cannot be verified.

Why? - I answered. “I can send for my Zapatayka right now, and we’ll check everything on the spot.”

Come on, come on, said the governor.

They brought Zapatayka. The governor began to invent:

Uh... let her... uh... take the brush from the playing table...

A minute later, Zapatayka, wagging her tail, brought a brush in her teeth.

Eh... let her go into the next room and run her paw over the piano keys!..

This task was also completed to perfection.

Amazing! Eh... extraordinary! - the governor repeated, followed by all the guests.

“Now,” I said, “let my dog do what he wants.”

Okay, said the governor.

The patch tapped its paws on the parquet. She rushed into the hall to the coat rack. She rummaged through my coat, pulled out a folded sheet of paper and, with the paper in her teeth, rushed back to the governor.

Then Zapatayka sat down in front of the governor and handed over the paper.

What's happened? - the governor was surprised. He took the paper and began to read: “PETITION. We, homeless Penza dogs, have the honor to ask through Mrs. Zapatayka ... "

Everyone laughed. The governor said:

What an intercessor! They ask for mercy... Uh... so that they don't get caught with a lasso.

And then he wrote on the petition:

"The dog's request will be granted."

IN TOPTYGIN'S HOUSES

It was a long time ago, twenty-five years ago. At that time I had a huge bear, tame and very good-natured. What kind of things has he done to me! And he danced, and walked among bottles, and drank wine (in fact, it was, of course, milk), and rode a trio of Siberian dogs...

But one day I almost had to pay with my life because of my good-natured Mishka.

One of the employees, Grebeshkov, looked after the bear. But Grebeshkov treated the bear and my other animals poorly. I endured for a long time, but finally said:

Listen, I can't hold you anymore. Take your payment and leave in good health. Because of you, my animals are losing trust in humans. You are destroying all my hard work!

He grinned and apparently thought:

“Okay, it’ll work out somehow! Without me, who will put a chain on the bear and lead him into the arena?

But I wasn't joking. I decided to do without this employee.

Posters were already posted around the city:

FIRST PERFORMANCE TRAINED GIANT BEAR TOPTYGIN!

Friends told me:

Set aside the bearish number. There is no need to take risks: no matter how your Mishka fools you without the employee to whom he is accustomed.

I laughed:

What are you interpreting! My Mishka is good nature itself. What does this have to do with the employee? Doesn't he know me, my Toptygin?

But we still won’t go see you today,” they said. - Something is scary.

As you wish!

Before the performance, as always, I went to check if the watchman was there. The circus was in the garden. In a dark corner, at the entrance to the stable, I noticed a man. He darted to the side and quickly disappeared behind the trees.

“It seems this is Grebeshkov,” I thought. “However, maybe not him.”

Then I started doing makeup, changing clothes and forgot about Grebeshkov.

And here I am in the arena. Showing off my friends to the public. It was Mishka's turn.

Mikhail Ivanovich, as always, did everything I demanded: he slid along a pole, walked on bottles, danced to waltz music. The number was coming to an end.

Toptygin had to get into the carriage, take the bottle of milk from my hands, and ride the dogs to the stables.

Three Siberian dogs are served. I brought Mishka to the carriage. He sat down. I threw the chain on his back and handed him the bottle.

Suddenly Mishka bent down, opened his mouth and grabbed mine with strong teeth. left hand, slightly below the shoulder.

The audience screamed in horror. The bear, without letting go of his hand, hugged me and crushed me under him.

The employees were confused. One of them rushed upstairs to the musicians and from there began throwing small pieces of bread to the bear, as if to a bird.

The audience rushed around the circus. Everyone tried to make their way to the exit. Shouts were heard from all sides:

Crushed!

Bear!

Save!

The mustachioed policeman climbed onto the gallery. Up there, he bravely waved his saber. Dressed, important ladies sat astride the barriers of the boxes; their hats slid to one side; the ladies screamed and cried...

The bear didn't let me go. One of the artists grabbed a dung fork from the stable and poked it from behind the bear. However, he immediately threw down the pitchfork and ran away.

The bear roared in pain, left me and rushed into the audience.

Instantly the crowd cleared the entire right side of the circus. Then the bear rushed to the left.

Then I got up. I was wearing a thick silk suit. The bear's teeth didn't hurt me much. I shouted with all my might:

Calm down! Take your seats! The show continues!

I rushed towards the bear and kicked him. He stood up on his hind legs and slowly walked towards me...

I looked intently into his eyes. I felt: at any cost I had to get him out of the arena. I backed away. The bear was coming towards me. I shouted imperiously:

Hello! Hello!

My voice influenced the bear. We had to go through the entire arena with him. The bear clearly expressed a desire to leave me and rush to where women's voices and the squeals of children could be heard. He in a special way growled, swallowed saliva and squinted with dark eyes. But I shouted:

Hello! Hello!

Slowly, slowly, I backed away towards the stable, the bear on its hind legs following me.

Finally we are in the stables. Underfoot are boards covered with hay; Somewhere nearby, horse hooves are clattering alarmingly. I shout again:

Hello! Get into place!

And the bear, ears back, lowers himself onto all four paws and goes into his cage.

In one leap I jump up to the cage and close it. Here the strength leaves me. Dizzy. I almost lose consciousness. Then I come to my senses and only then do I begin to feel severe pain in my arm.

Why did the good-natured Mishka suddenly rush at me?

I found a vial near the bear cage. There were remnants of something red in it. I looked: it turned out to be blood.

So that's what it's all about! Grebeshkov decided to take revenge on me for firing him. He took out a live pigeon, slaughtered it and fed the pigeon blood to the bear an hour before the performance. Blood has a strong effect on animals. When I gave the bear a bottle of milk, he probably remembered the blood and wanted more. He rushed at me.

Then we became friends again. He never attacked me again.

BORKA AND MARCHED

Now I will talk about badgers. My first badgers were caught near Astrakhan. Their names were Borka and Surka.

Borka became an excellent “artilleryman”: he quickly learned to shoot from a toy cannon. And Surka knew how to leaf through books.

But the best thing was the badger dancing. Surka was especially different. She deftly spun in one place, so that it turned out something like a waltz.

Sometimes Borka and Surka danced together. They even learned the first figure of the quadrille: they danced, standing in front of each other, then moved away and came together again.

They didn't live long. One day I went with them to the Nizhny Novgorod fair, in the city of Gorky, which was then called Nizhny Novgorod.

We went there by boat. I placed the badgers and other animals in the stern, and I sat on the upper deck, admiring the banks and expanse of the Volga. I was lost in thought and did not notice how the captain approached me.

“I see,” he said, “you are carrying a lot of animals.” What will you please the audience at the fair? What's new?

I smiled:

I'm bringing two badgers. They are educated: they leaf through books, barely read. Quadrille dancing.

It would be interesting to meet them,” said the captain.

I didn't want to refuse the captain.

Well, it’s possible, I answered. - I'll bring them now. Please love and respect!

And I went for the cage.

Soon the cage with the badgers stood on the upper deck, and the captain looked at the animals with curiosity.

“Let them walk around the deck a little,” I said and decided to open the cage.

Then something unexpected happened.

As soon as I opened the cage door, Borka and Surka jumped out onto the deck, threw themselves overboard and, before I had time to come to my senses, disappeared into the waves...

The steamer continued to rush quickly against the current. The captain said:

I am very sorry that these animals died because of me. I’m ready to stop the ship, but it’s useless: your badgers are already dead.

Poor Borka and Surka! They drowned! I rushed into the cabin, fell on the bed and buried my face in the pillows. And the ship kept moving forward and forward...

A few months later I was going hunting in Golitsyno, near Moscow. My big friend and an experienced hunter. We decided to hunt badgers. My dear friend told me about the secretive, solitary life of badgers, about how difficult it is to observe them in the wild.

The badger, he said, is a nocturnal animal. Most He spends his days in his underground hole.

We walked along the lawn. There was a dog with us, a fox terrier, on a chain. Suddenly the fox terrier pulled on the chain. His eyes lit up, his ears stood up. He wheezed and began to rush forward towards the edge.

We saw a large mound.

There, in a hillock, my friend said, in a layer of sand, the badger made himself an apartment of several rooms with all the amenities. There is a common room, a storage room, the main one - the front door, so to speak - and four spare rooms. The badger pulls all this out with his strong crooked claws.

We unleashed the fox terrier. He immediately rushed into one of the entrances and went underground.

We became silent. I lay down and put my ear to the ground. Suddenly, somewhere deep down there, a dog yelped was heard.

Found it! - whispered my friend.

We quickly began to dig in this place. It was not easy to dig: every now and then we came across stones. Finally we reached the sand.

Suddenly, from another entrance, not at all where we were digging, a fox terrier jumped out. He was all smeared with earth. Sniffing the air anxiously, he ran around the mound and again disappeared into one of the passages.

“We probably won’t find him now,” said my friend. - The badger probably managed to burrow into one of the dead-end emergency passages.

Still, we continued to dig. Finally we reached an empty spot in the sand. A hole has formed. We stuck a long stick in there. But then we heard barking in a completely different place. I had to abandon this hole and take on a new one. Work went slowly. We're pretty tired. The ground was hard, and every now and then the spade rattled against the stones. Then evening came and it became dark. I had to stop working.

So I left for Moscow with nothing. Badgers hide very cleverly...

Then I still managed to buy from one hunter three little ones badgers. They were still weak: their hind legs spread apart when they walked.

I put them in a cage. They curled up into a ball and fell asleep. I put a saucer of milk in their cage. In the morning I looked - the milk had not been drunk, the saucer had been overturned. When the badgers woke up, I gave them bread and milk, but they didn’t eat anything, they just scattered everything with their noses and paws. I poured milk into the bottle, pulled on the rubber nipple and gave it to the badgers. They don’t want to suck, they don’t know how.

So the day passed.

The next morning I found them sleeping again. I again began to feed them warm milk from the nipple. Finally, two of them realized what was happening and began to somehow suck. The third was very weak, could not suck and was left without food.

On the third day, two badgers, who were stronger, were already reaching for the nipple and sucking half a glass of milk each. And he, weak, remained lying motionless. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t teach him to suck. I fed them like this for several days. The weak badger fell ill, grew sick and soon died. And those two greedily pounced on the milk, quarreled among themselves, grumbled, grunted.

In honor of my previous badgers, I also named these ones Borka and Marmot.

Borka was a big bully.

He gnawed at the pacifier, attacked Surka, and spilled the milk. In the end, Surka also fell ill and died.

And the bully Borka still lives happily with me. I don’t give him a pacifier anymore, otherwise he’ll chew it right away. At first I gave him bread and milk, and then I began to feed him meat.

I introduced him to Pepo the dog. They became very good friends. When Borka is released from the cage, he runs into the garden and starts a game with Pepo. They play for a long time.

Borka loves to play with the dog. But as soon as I call him, he obediently returns to the cage.

This Borka easily learned to do what the first Borka could do: he dances, leafs through books. But, in addition, he also turns my drum, attached to a small organ. This music begins his performances.

Then I taught Borka to pull out a bucket of water from a small well. But what my Borka does best is to somersault over his head. Children at the circus love to watch Borka somersault in the arena. They shout: “Encore!” Bis!"

And Borka keeps tumbling and tumbling...

HEDGEHOG MITTE AND REEL

Before me, no one had ever trained hedgehogs to perform in a circus. I bought two hedgehogs. He called one Mitten and the other Coil. I checked into a hotel with them. Early in the morning I was woken up by:

Listen, the owner is swearing!

I rub my eyes:

What's happened? Fire?

The owner, I say, is swearing.

Why is he swearing? What's the matter?

In front of me is a hotel employee. He scratches the back of his head and complains:

Yes, everything about your hedgehogs... And the owner swears, and the guests are offended. And now... would you like to listen?

I listened. Shrill female voices were heard behind the wall:

This is impossible! I'm leaving here!!! Some kind of pig farm, not a hotel!..

Do you hear? - says the employee.

There was a knock on the door. The hotel owner came in:

Please free your room. All the guests are offended because of the hedgehogs! They say it is impossible to tolerate. Yes, after you and no one will take your number.

I answer:

But I did everything you asked! I cleaned the room and even bought linoleum at my own expense.

The owner waves his hand:

They'll make a mess of the new one in no time, your hedgehogs! No, whatever you want, move out. I can't hold you anymore.

Mitten, Coil, and I had to move to another hotel. A day later the same story repeated itself there. So they drove us from place to place.

Still, I managed to teach the hedgehogs something. Hedgehogs in the circus are a big new thing. I patiently sought friendship with these living thorns.

I put the Coil on the table. She immediately falls into a ball. For hours I sat near the Coil and waited for this prickly ball to unfold. Finally, the coil “unwinds”. She sticks her nose out from under the needles and runs around the table with quick steps.

I give her a treat raw meat- Hedgehogs love him very much. To make it more convenient for her to eat it, the meat is cut into long strips - worms.

The reel quickly grabs the meat “worm” and begins to chew with appetite, not letting it out of its mouth for a minute. It seems to me that if I gave her a meter-long worm, she would eat that without a break.

I tried to tame Coil to me. With my left hand I gave her meat, and with my right hand I either brought it closer to the hedgehog or removed it. In this way I introduced the hedgehog to my hands. Everything was going well. Suddenly the wind slammed the window. The coil was startled by the knock and instantly turned into a ball of needles. Try petting her!

Again I’m waiting for the Coil to “unwind”...

I bought a few more hedgehogs.

Every morning I let them out onto the long table. There they drank milk and ate meat. Then I ordered an artificial grotto with two caves for the hedgehogs. A road led from cave to cave. The grotto was placed on four tables. I distributed the roles between the hedgehogs, released them onto the table and began introducing them to the new decoration. Hedgehogs had to move from one cave to another, sometimes in groups, sometimes alone.

Then I decided to make artillerymen out of hedgehogs. Light toy cannons appeared on the stage. They were attached to the limbers, and the limbers were on two wheels, with thin wooden shafts.

But the question is: how to harness hedgehogs? The spines of hedgehogs do not feel pain, just like our hair or nails, and nothing can be tied to them: they are very smooth, and the thread slips off them. I thought and thought and came up with an idea. I made small hooks from sealing wax, heated them on a candle and attached them to needles, and put ready-made loops and shafts on the hooks.

At first the hedgehogs snorted, “shied,” and did not want to harness themselves, but then they got used to it and deftly carried the guns and charging boxes. Our “hedgehog artillery” performed with great success. The arena is filled with bright light. Light bulbs The grottoes are illuminated. “Artillerymen” emerge from the grottoes with cannons. I declare:

Enemy, trembling: hedgehogs are coming with guns!

And the audience laughs.

I showed "artillerymen" in different theaters. Everything was going well until I decided to make fun of one prince.

Then there was Tsar Nicholas II in Russia. Nicholas was friends with the Bulgarian prince Ferdinand of Coburg. All sorts of bad things were said about this Ferdinand. One day, looking at a portrait of Ferdinand, I noticed that the prince had a long, hooked nose. I thought: “My Coil’s nose is kind of like Ferdinand’s - just as long and hooked. It would be nice to cast her in the role of a Bulgarian prince!”

I attached a long wax saber to the needles. The reel walked with importance along the road from one cave to another.

That's how she performed in the evening - with a saber. I presented the Coil to the public:

Here is Ferdinand of Coburg, a talent not recognized in Europe. His a long nose overgrown with warts. Whenever he tackles a political issue, he always ends up with a problem!

The audience laughed. The coil really looked like this prince. But then a policeman came to me and said:

For your stupid and impudent jokes, you are forever prohibited from showing hedgehogs!

A few years later there was a revolution in Russia, and I was again able to freely perform with hedgehogs and other animals.

MONKEY MIMUS

Michel changes name

In Hamburg I bought a small chimpanzee. The monkey's name was Michel. When buying a chimpanzee, I asked the former owner how to treat Michel. The owner said:

Great care is needed with Michel. First, don't give him anything cold. He ate well with me. In the morning - cocoa with milk. After two hours - fruits: bananas, pears, apples, grapes. Two hours later - fruit again. At four o'clock - rice, and in the evening - bananas and pears again. Don’t give him prunes - it will upset his stomach... Yes,” he sighed, “the chimpanzee is funny, it’s even a pity to part with him.” He really loves to play. He notices everything in people, repeats it, and will soon be a heavy smoker.

Has he tried smoking?

I tried it. True, so far only as a joke. The watchman once threw a pipe into his cage. Michel picked her up and the fun began. He began running around the cage with the pipe, filled it with hay, and stuck it in his mouth.

But then they brought a cage with a monkey.

Michel! - I called.

No attention.

Michel! Michel!

Michel doesn't answer. He sits motionless. But as soon as I lifted the bars, Michel jumped out of the cage like a bullet and began rushing around the room.

With great difficulty I caught the monkey. She immediately became quiet in my arms. I showed her the banana. She turned away indifferently and began to look around the room with curiosity. We put a collar with a chain around Michel's neck. The chimpanzee began to tear, grabbing at the furniture. Mikhel never wanted to go back to the cage. We barely managed to get him there. He screamed, resisted and defended himself with all his might. I started calling him again:

Michel! Michel!

He didn't move.

What a Michel he is! - I said. - He doesn't even know his name. We need to come up with a name for him.

I tried many names: Jack, Tom, Makarka... None of this fit. Suddenly a new name came to mind.

Mimus! - I shouted.

The monkey looked back, and I decided: let Michel be Mimus.

Now we need to take Mimus to Russia. Somehow he will bear it long journey? I placed him in the baggage car, in the dog section. The conductor lit a large iron stove. Soon the dog compartment warmed up, and I was glad that my tender and chilly Mimus would not freeze. I set up a cage, put a mattress in it, a large banana on the mattress and put Mimus behind bars. He screamed, squealed and extended his long arms towards me. But I can’t go in the dog department! My place is in the passenger carriage. I ran to my room. The wheels began to rattle. Poor Mimus was left alone, with a banana for consolation.

Mimus went to Russia.

At night the train stopped at a small station. I ran to Mimus. Dark. Where is he here, in the dark? I light a match. On the mattress I see Mimus curled up in a ball. He's sleeping. Nearby, right next to your nose, is an untouched banana...

Stop again. Morning. I took out some hot tea, poured it into a bottle and went to Mimus. Well, it’s hot in his dog department! Apparently the conductor overdid it.

Mimus runs around the cage restlessly. He looks at me and seems to say: “Let me go free, I’m tired of being in prison!”

I was about to give him some tea and took a bottle out of my pocket. Suddenly a whistle sounded, the wheels rattled, the train started moving... I was left in the dog section, alone with Mimus.

It’s very hot here, sweat is pouring off me, my temples are pounding. But nothing can be done. It's a good hour and a half until the next stop.

I open the cage. Mimus begins to rush around the carriage like an arrow. Finally he sits down in the corner, looking at me keenly. I hand him the bottle. He looks at her intently, but doesn't come closer. I bring the neck of the bottle to my mouth and swallow the tea. At the same time, I deliberately spill some tea on the floor.

Mimus sniffs the spilled tea, pokes his lips into it, touches it with his hands, licks his wet fingers. Then he comes up to me and holds out his hand for the bottle.

I don't give it to him. I bend the bottle and the tea spills onto the floor again. Mimus drinks. He liked this. He wants more tea. He hits the floor with his palms and then walks towards me with his arms raised.

So he grabbed the bottle with both hands. I pretended that I couldn't hold her. He ran cheerfully around the carriage with the bottle. Not seeing any pursuit of him, he sat down on the floor, put a bottle in front of him and began to carefully watch how interesting the delicious tea flowed from it. Then he began to drink, first touching the puddle, sometimes touching the neck.

Finally the train slowed down and stopped. We must quickly catch Mimus and put him in a cage.

Here we had to fight. He ran away, wrapping his toes around the neck of the bottle. I caught him in the corner. Suddenly his teeth sank into my left hand. But I still put him in a cage with a bottle.

Wet and sweating, I ran along the entire train to my carriage. There is wind and snow all around. I caught a cold. Quite ill, the next day I ran to Mimus at stops, gave him tea, changed the straw in his cage, and dried his blanket by the stove.

So we got to Moscow. While we were driving, Mimus got used to me. In addition, he learned to drink tea from the neck of a bottle. Tea has always remained Mimus's favorite drink.

I found a high chair in the attic. My daughter sat on it for many years.

Where are you taking my chair? - she said.

Mimus will sit on it.

What kind of Mimus is this?

Chimp!

I showed her Mimus. They met.

Mimus will have lunch with us,” I said, hugging the chimpanzee to my chest and stroking his head.

We put Mimus on a high chair and tie a chain to the back of the high chair. The chimpanzee jumps up and climbs with his feet on the table. Wife and daughter are horrified:

He will break all the dishes! He'll spill the soup on the tablecloth!

I speak:

Ssss, Mimus, sss...

Mimus jumps off the table and jerks the chain. I sit him down on the chair again. Finally he calms down. Every now and then we have to adjust his legs. It's hard to sit on a chair! You won't learn right away.

And Mimus has a lot to learn. Living among people is not so easy: you need to be able to correctly take a mug of tea, be able to handle a spoon and fork, eat carefully, without staining the tablecloth; you need to know a lot of different things.

Mimus gets up at seven o'clock in the morning. Until nine he amuses himself by running around the rooms. At nine o'clock he sits at the common table, next to me, and drinks sweet tea. Until twelve he frolics on the sofa, and at noon he has breakfast. As you can see, he lived well with me.

For breakfast - semolina. I give Mimus a spoon. He clumsily grabs it and turns it. I correct and show how to rake the porridge. Mimus moves his spoon helplessly around the plate. Then he drops the spoon and takes the porridge with his hand.

You can't, Mimus!

He doesn't like it. I take the plate away. Mimus screams angrily. I feed him with a spoon, then put the spoon back in his hand.

Eventually he began to eat with a spoon. At first he was clumsy and clumsy, but then he learned to deftly use a spoon. He was careful not to drop the porridge on the tablecloth.

The fork was more difficult. Mimus still couldn't stick his fork into an apple or pear. He moved it over the fruit like a spoon, and I had to turn the fork in his hand for a long time. But in the end he mastered this complex instrument.

After breakfast, Mimus plays or studies. I taught him how to use the bell. He placed a nickel-plated bell in front of him and showed him how to ring. I put my finger on the lump. The bell rang. Mimus got scared, jumped up, grabbed the bell with a spoon, then began moving it across the table and throwing it.

You can't, Mimus!

He became quiet. The next morning the same story repeated itself.

Mimus didn’t give me his hand, he didn’t want to learn how to call.

Suddenly he accidentally hit the bump with his fist. The bell rang. Immediately a plate of fruit moved towards Mimus. Mimus looked at the plate, grabbed the pear and hit the bell again. And now my hand with raisins reached out to him. He ate delicious raisins and again - clap on the bell. The mug of sweet tea came right up to Mimus's nose.

And what? He quickly learned to call. He liked this thing so much that he had to take the bell away, otherwise he wouldn’t have enough treats.

Then I taught him the words: “Mimus, come here!”

Here the brush helped me. An ordinary brush on a long stick for sweeping walls and ceilings. I whistle once, and twice, and three times. After the third whistle I shout:

A terrible monster appears at the door - a brush. Mimus looks at the furry scarecrow with horror, backs away and finally runs as fast as he can to me to seek protection.

Mimus understood: always after the cry “come here” or after the whistle, this terrible monster on a stick appears. This means that as soon as the owner’s call is heard, you must run to him, otherwise scary beast on a long stick he will grab you and drag you somewhere.

And Mimus got used to running towards me at the first whistle.

What kind of animal is that there in the corner where the closet is? There was just no one there and suddenly a hairy, evil creature with a chain around its neck appeared there. Mimus raises his head, and the unfamiliar beast raises its head.

“Well, well,” Mimus thinks, “I’m not afraid of you!” - and boldly goes to the enemy. But the enemy was not afraid - he also attacked Mimus. Mimus stopped - and he stopped. Mimus retreated a little - and he mimicked him: he also retreated. Just like a monkey! Little by little, Mimus gets used to this creature, which repeats his every movement. This is, perhaps, not even a harmful animal at all. You can get closer to him. Mimus moves closer carefully - the beast also carefully moves closer. Mimus touches the cold glass with his lips and, disappointed, moves away from the mirror cabinet.

Mimus and the Dwarf

IN big hall I have a slide built. At the top is a cart.

Mimus, I say, do you want to go for a ride?

I put him in the cart, but he resists and climbs onto my chest.

Well, then watch me... Learn.

I placed the cart on the slide and pushed it. The cart rolled noisily and hit the wall. Mimus looked carefully at the cart, then walked up to it. He pushed her with his fist, and jumped back just in case. The cart rolled.

A minute later Mimus was boldly playing with the cart. He rolled her down the slide, grabbed her on the fly, and carried her across the floor. We all followed this cute game. Then I said:

Come on, Mimus, let's play together!

I rolled the cart up and down the slide seven times, then showed Mimus to the bottom of the cart:

Sit down, I'll give you a ride!

Mimus had already gotten used to the cart and calmly climbed into it. But as soon as I approached him, he jumped! I took the monkey by the chain and put him back in the cart. Mimus sat obediently, holding on to the side of his carriage with one hand and the chain with the other. So he moved out.

After that, he soon learned to ride down the mountain himself. He pulled the cart up, sat down and deftly slid down.

But most of all he loved to tumble on the sofa. At first, Mimus bounced on the springs for a long time, with a concentrated look. Hop! Hop! Hop! Higher and higher. Hop! Hop! Hop! Then the head somersault began. Mimus was tumbling like a redhead in the arena. Then he jumped over me.

It was not easy to tinker with it - it weighed about twelve kilograms. When he got too excited, I said:

Sssss! - and calmed him down.

But often I got tired of fiddling with the monkey and called:

Vanka-Vstanka!

The dwarf came running. I told:

Vanka-Vstanka, play with Mimus. Just don't hurt the monkey.

What are you talking about, Vladimir Leonidovich! Am I offending anyone?

Mimus and the dwarf go to the dining room. I'm resting. And suddenly I hear a frantic scream. I run to the dining room. The dwarf holds the chain with one hand and presses the other hand to his nose.

What's wrong with you, Vanka-Vstanka?

Me... Mimus... is hitting me! - Vanka-Vstanka whines. - Look what he did!

He takes his hand away: Vanka’s nose is all bloody!

As soon as he took his hand away, Mimus extended his black furry paw and scratched the dwarf on the nose again! The dwarf roared.

You can't, Mimus! - I shouted.

Mimus got angry and rushed at the dwarf. Apparently the monkey was not very afraid of him.

The dwarf often came running to me to complain about the monkey, but Mimus did not lose heart. He got new friend- Mars. Mars is big German Shepherd. Here she enters the hall, wagging her tail welcomingly. Mimus rushes towards the dog and the fight begins.

Mars is very patient. Mimus throws himself on Mars's back and tries to knock him down. Mars playfully nibbles the chimpanzee lightly and places it on “both shoulder blades.” But Mimus is cunning. He doesn't want to be defeated. He begins to play tricks: he catches Mars's front paws and pulls them forcefully. Mars falls, squeals in pain, but does not bite.

Sometimes the badger Borka takes part in the fight. Seeing a dog and a monkey, Borka turns into a ball. His fur stands on end. Mars begins to roll this ball around the hall. Mimus caresses Borka and flirts with him. But Mimus didn’t like my rats. For some reason they make him angry.

So I release the learned rats onto the table. The performance begins. I bring a sunflower seed to the rat's face:

Finka, turn over!

The “artist”, waving her long tail, turns over. Mimus doesn't take his eyes off her.

Next number. The bait seed leads the learned rat to the mast with the flag. Then the rat takes the string in its paws and begins to finger it, like a person. Suddenly flashes dark hand. It's Mimus! He grabs the “great artist” and drags her into a corner.

Mimus, you can't!

Mimus is gone

Mimus is sick. He no longer runs around the room, does not frolic, does not play pranks. In a woolen jacket and stockings, pitiful and sad, he lies motionless on the sofa for hours.

Mimus is difficult to treat. He doesn’t want to take medicine, it’s almost impossible to listen to him because of his long, thick and coarse fur, and he can’t show his tongue.

How to teach him to stick out his tongue?

I sat down on the sofa next to Mimus and stuck out the tip of my tongue to him. The monkey is surprised: what is this? I hide my tongue. Mimus doesn't take his eyes off my mouth.

I get up and move towards Mimus: I pretend that I want to scare him with my tongue. Mimus jumps back.

So I stick out my tongue several times, scaring him. Then I instantly freeze like stone. Mimus looks at me in surprise, then touches me, but I don’t move.

Then he tries to scare me and, in turn, sticks out his tongue. And that’s what I need.

I jump up, as if I’m terribly afraid of Mimus’s tongue. I run and say:

Show your tongue... show your tongue...

Mimus is very pleased that I am afraid of his tongue. He keeps sticking it out, and I run away in horror.

So I gradually taught him to stick out his tongue. Now come, doctor!

The doctor has arrived. He examined the monkey and said:

Chimpanzees cannot live long in our climate. You cannot create for them the hot climate in which they were born... However, give him castor oil.

We gave him castor oil, we wrapped him in a blanket, different doctors looked at him, but, unfortunately, nothing helped.

Two weeks later Mimus was gone.

CROW ARTISTS

At the end of April, I noticed crows' nests in the treetops of our garden. Crows scurried around the garden with loud cawing. I spent hours watching them through binoculars. I managed to notice how a crow feeds its chicks. The mother is just flying up to the nest, and the crow is already opening its beak wide and screaming at the top of its lungs: “Ka!” It receives food from its beak directly into its throat. The mother pushes food there with her beak.

I released the monkey Gashka into the garden. Gashka climbed up a tree, sat at the very top and began to feast on spiders. She took them off the leaves.

Then a crow noticed her: she flew past Gashka. Two or three minutes later she returned with her friends. The crows circled around the monkey, scattered to the sides, but soon returned in even greater numbers. They sat down on neighboring trees, made noise, shouted, and then began to approach Gashka.

The monkey did not pay attention to the advancing enemies. She carefreely jumped from branch to branch, continuing to feast on spiders.

The crows, cawing, flew away and then flew at Gashka again. Their flock grew larger and larger, and the more crows flocked, the bolder they became. It seems to me that Gashka was simply pretending that she did not see the birds. Suddenly one of the crows flew up to the monkey - and how it pecked at its tail! Behind her is another. Gashka realized that her situation was not pleasant. I called Gashka, and she quickly descended to the ground.

The next day I went out into the garden with a supply of bread and meat. I began to throw bread and meat to the crows.

“Maybe they will get used to me,” I thought.

Nothing succeeded! A flock of sparrows flew onto the scattered food and instantly destroyed everything. It's like I threw it in for them!

A few days later I met a boy on the street who was hiding some kind of bird in his hat.

What do you have?

Little Crow.

Where did you take?

There in the garden!

Listen,” I said, “give me the bird, you’ll only torture it.” You won't be able to grow it!

The boy clutched his hat tightly to his chest:

Will not give it back!

Listen,” I continued, “you don’t know how to feed the chick, and it will die.” And I will feed him. You will come to me and learn how to care for birds yourself.

He was silent.

“I have a lot of birds,” I persuaded, “and animals.” There is also a bear. And foxes. And wolves. Do you want me to show you? Just give me the bird. And I'll give you this for it. - And I showed him the money.

The boy took the coin and gave me the crow. I took the boy to my “corner”.

The boy's eyes lit up. He looked at the animals for a long time.

In the morning, as soon as I woke up, they told me:

The boys are waiting for you there.

What boys?

With birds.

I went out into the corridor. In the hallway stood boys with little crows in their fists and hats.

Vladimir Leonidovich, you buy crows, so we brought them to you!

I realized: it was yesterday’s boy who spread such a rumor about me.

I had to buy the poor chicks.

Since then, the guys with the crows began to come to me every day.

Now I bought it simply out of pity. I knew: if you don’t buy it, the boys will torture the chicks. When buying, I always said:

I don't need any more, guys! Don't even think about destroying the nests. The crow is a useful bird: it destroys harmful insects.

I tried to interest the children in the life of animals. I soon saw that conversations were not in vain.

Once, a crowd of boys and girls brought a teenager to me, who ruined the nest.

Punish him, please! - the guys shouted. - Tell him never to touch the nest again.

But at home they were angry with me:

Little crow again! What are you going to do with these screamers? Another tormentor won't let you sleep in the morning!

Indeed, my screamers had little regard for the peace and sleep of people.

Where to put the chicks? I installed them in the attic. There I placed eighteen nests.

Early in the morning I am already on my feet and climb into the attic with a basket of food. Here I have ant eggs, white bread in a bowl of water, and finely chopped raw meat.

The smallest - ant eggs and soaked bread; for those who are older, meat minced with bread.

The crows open their beaks wide and flap their half-naked wings. They scream and reach out to me. I go around the rows of screamers and throw food into their mouths. Some crows have food jumping out of their mouths, and I have to push the meat deep into their throats with my finger.

The crows had to be fed every hour. I got used to them and even knew each one individually.

I had a lot of trouble with this feeding. My employee could not replace me: he had very thick fingers, and the crows were in great pain when he fed them.

After two weeks, my students no longer had to force food down their throats: they themselves grabbed the meat from their hands and quickly swallowed it.

After a few days, the chicks became covered with feathers in “pads” (feathers rolled into tubes) and became even more greedy.

Then I had to leave Moscow for a while. Before leaving, I told my assistant:

Don't forget to blacken the attic. Now they have grown up and take food themselves.

Still, it seems that the servant did not take good care of the chicks.

When I returned to the “corner”, I found only seven crows alive. But these were the strongest, most cheerful little crows. They flew from beam to beam, ran, funny waddling now to the right, now to the left.

The crows already knew a lot: they tore up the ground, swallowed small pebbles, cleaned feathers with their beaks, and even caught flies themselves.

They weren't afraid of me. They boldly flew up to me, sat on my shoulders, on my head and snatched food from my hands.

Well, little crows,” I said, “it’s time to start studying.”

I ordered a wide board with collars from the carpenter. When the board was ready, I placed it on two pedestals, and sprinkled food on one of the pedestals. At first, the crows looked at this thing with a gate incredulously from a distance. They funnyly tilted their heads to the side and looked with one eye or the other. But little by little they became bolder. As if boasting of their courage to each other, they flew up to the meat, grabbed it and flew away.

In two days my students became completely accustomed to the new apparatus. They were already running along the board - some into the gates, some past the gates - and quickly ate the food scattered on the board.

It's time to put the crows in "prison". I set up two cages for each crow. I placed one cage (with a crow) on one cabinet, and the second cage on the second. Between the pedestals there is a board with collars. On the crossbar of each gate (there were several of them on the board) I placed a piece of meat.

Then he opened the cage door. The crow ran out of the cage, jumped onto the crossbar, greedily grabbed the meat, swallowed it, jumped onto another gate, grabbed the meat again and so got to another cage. Water, bread, and meat were waiting for her there.

The next day, I began to put food not on every gate, but every other one or two, but my “actress” still jumped like yesterday and got to the end.

The first number with the crow is ready.

I taught the second crow to walk not along the crossbars, but into the gate itself.

And the third crow gave concerts on bells.

I hung a bell to the top crossbar of each gate, and a rope with a knot was threaded into the ear of the bell. First, the crow pulled the string on the meat tied to the bundle. There was a ringing sound. Pulling the strings, she rang “all the bells.” And then she called without meat. The bells were chosen in such a way that it sounded like: “Chizhik-fawn, where have you been?”

The other four crows also did not remain idle.

I bought a small straw stroller for them at a toy store. I attached a soft rubber ring to the shafts and began to teach the bravest crow to harness himself to the carriage. That was not easy. I forced her to take food only through the ring. She kept trying to grab the food outside the ring, but I didn’t let her. In the end, I got it so that as soon as I showed her food, she would put her head into a rubber clamp.

After a week of hard work, my “black”, getting out of the cage, jumped to the stroller - into the place between the shafts - and put her head into the collar. Here she received a large portion of tasty food.

Let's start the rehearsal. The stroller is on the board, the cage with the crow is on the cabinet, and the food is in my pocket.

Quiet whistle.

I open the cage. The crow quickly runs to the carriage and harnesses itself. I immediately offer her a saucer of food and drink. The crow grabs piece by piece, but I move the saucer a quarter of a meter. The crow immediately takes its head out of the collar and hurries to the saucer.

But it was not there.

I remove the saucer and don't let her eat until she's harnessed into the stroller again.

The hardest part was done.

But it's not interesting when a crow drags an empty stroller.

The other three crows also did not remain idle. One was sitting on the “front” behind the coachman. I made reins out of ribbon and taught the “coachman” crow to pull them with his beak. And two crows performed the most light work: They were passengers. They stood calmly in the stroller. Just give them more food - they won’t be able to go anywhere, they will travel in a stroller for at least a thousand kilometers!

However, my learned crows did not live long in this world.

Once I went into the attic to check on the students and was horrified: there was fluff and feathers everywhere, and red blood stains. And on the floor, under the window, lay torn birds. The wind was blowing through the broken window...

Crows and jackdaws love everything shiny, and on the roof, just under the dormer window, there were fragments of a mirror lying around.

The crows, trying to get the tempting shiny fragments, began to break the window glass with their beaks. They hammered and hammered and hammered a hole in the glass.

The neighbor's cat took advantage of this. He climbed into the attic through a broken window and dealt with the “artists” in his own way.

DANCER CRANES AND SANDALEOCHEN

I had four cranes. I noticed: after sitting in a cage for a long time, cranes, like ostriches, want to “stretch” their long legs, and as soon as I released the beetle into the arena, they began to flap their wings, jump, and mark time. It turned out very funny. I was so used to funny things in the circus, and I always laughed when I looked at the jumping beetles. They danced like clowns on stilts.

I thought: “Couldn’t they be taught to dance in a way that would be similar to how people dance?”

Patiently, day after day, I taught the long-legged birds to dance. It was impossible to see how they performed various funny steps without laughing.

I bought an oilcloth carpet and put it in the arena. Then I seated the beetles in pairs in two cages and placed the cages opposite each other in the arena. Then I opened both cages at the same time, and my beetles, like in the first quadrille figure, began to pass pair after pair. They walked back and forth, and then did a “balance,” that is, they spun. And so they learned to dance well. Then I took them on tour with me.

We went to Kostroma. There on the square we spread the canvas roof of our circus tent. Suddenly the wind and rain came, our tent got wet and tore. We had to urgently mobilize all the city's tailors. They hastily sewed up the huge canvas, and the sun dried it. Somehow we got our circus going.

I went out with my “dancers” to the arena to rehearse. I spread out the oilcloth, let the cranes out of the cage and wanted to give them a piece of meat before the dance. Suddenly the elder crane raised his head and looked up: through a hole in the unfinished canvas, the sky was blue. The crane screamed, flapped its wings, stretched out its head and... took off! Before I had time to come to my senses, the rest of the “dancers” rose up behind him. Noisy with their wings, stretching out their long legs, they quickly flew through the gap and disappeared from view.

I ran out into the street. The audience has gathered. We looked up, shouted, called:

Zhurki, Zhurki!

The Zhurki did not answer.

The public said:

This is what they danced!

It's a pity! Scientist cranes!

Well, can you catch them now?

And I didn’t have to watch them dance.

I felt incredibly sorry for the cranes.

About two weeks later a man came to me in a hunting suit, with a gun, and a bag filled with birds.

Are you Durov? - he asked.

Me: What's the matter?

You see, I'm the hunter here. I came to tell you about today's hunt. Maybe my story will bring you great grief, please don’t blame me.

I didn’t understand where the hunter was going with his speech.

“I am a hunter,” the stranger continued, “but I have never hunted cranes in my life and never thought that I would have to kill this bird.

Cranes? - I asked again.

He took the killed game out of his bag:

Is this bird familiar to you?

I looked at the helplessly hanging body with a long neck and long legs.

Zhurka! - I cried. -Where did you kill him?

The hunter sighed:

Yes, that means it's actually yours. I was walking through the swamp in the morning, far from here, about forty miles, and suddenly I saw - what a miracle? - Cranes are dancing in the swamp. And how they dance! Like people! Well, I think that means I’m sick and I’m imagining everything. But the birds did not disappear. Everyone dances and dances. Let me, I think, check whether this is a fantasy or in reality. I raised my gun, took aim and fired. And what? Three cranes flew away, but one remained lying in the grass. Well, I picked it up. And then I came to the city, I saw a poster on the fence: the famous Durov was performing with dancing cranes. Then I realized what kind of crane I had killed.

He fell silent. I looked with sadness at the dead zhurka. Then I said:

Will you take me to where you saw the cranes?

The hunter agreed. I wanted to explore the swamp where the beetle was killed...

After the cranes, I got another wonderful “dancer” - the common spotted hen. Our dance lessons began with the fact that I tamed her to me. She began to boldly take food from my hands. Then, moving the bait near the beak, I taught it to roll over in one place.

When the chicken mastered this technique and learned to “waltz,” we moved on to the next lesson. I poured a layer of earth on the table and, in front of the chicken, I buried pieces of meat, grains of oats, etc. There, the chicken scattered the earth with its paws, trying to get food. So I taught her to dance on the table. Then I transferred her to a smooth table, without soil. She danced well to the music.

I had a music box. If you turn it on, it plays on its own. I placed a speckled hen on this box and wound it up. As soon as the music started, the chicken began to spin around in one place, as if waltzing. The music stopped and the chicken stopped dancing.

Notes

Chamberriere is a long whip used in the circus or in the arena.

Hello, dear guys!

Let's get acquainted. My name is Valentin Ivanovich. Last name: Filatov.

I'm a grandfather. I have a beloved granddaughter Yulenka. She is already big, studying at school, in the third grade. Yulia does gymnastics and dances, but most of all she loves the circus. Of course, there is nothing surprising in this. Yulia has all her relatives: mom, dad, Aunt Tanya, Uncle Sasha and me, Grandpa Valya - everyone works in the circus, training animals.

Did you notice that I said they work, not just perform? Because before you start performing, you have to work a lot and for a long time. After all, teaching animals to be obedient is not at all easy. Those guys who have pets know this well. And with wild animals it’s even more difficult. They have difficulty getting used to captivity, and often show their insidious bestial nature - they can injure or even kill the trainer.

But this doesn’t scare Yulia. She is a brave girl and decided to become a trainer. I often tell her about animals, take her to the zoo and the circus.

In zoos, animals simply live in cages and do not perform any tricks. And in circuses, animals take part in the performance like real artists. They know how to walk on their front paws, jump into a ring of fire, and do hilarious knee-jerk moves. Looking at all this, the audience is surprised, delighted, and laughs. Of course, wouldn’t a bear riding a bicycle surprise you, wouldn’t an elephant standing on one leg delight you, wouldn’t a monkey running with a yoke make you laugh?

I wrote down everything that I told my granddaughter about animals and compiled a book from these stories. I dedicate it to all children who love animals and love the circus.

In a bear hug

The story of how I became a trainer is interesting, but very long. There is a lot of funny and scary, cheerful and sad in it. If you're not in a hurry and have some extra time, sit back and listen.

When I was six years old, I was already a circus performer - I performed with my first teacher Ivan Ivanovich Ivanov in two acts: an acrobat in the Icarian games and a gymnast on a leg ladder.

In the Icarian games, adult performers lay on special pillows and tossed us little children to each other with their feet. During the flights, we somersaulted in the air, and at the end of the performance we showed acrobatic jumps on the carpet: cartwheels, flick-flies, somersaults.

On the stairs I did handstands, flags, quickdraws - pretty difficult tricks. Of course, before I mastered all this, I received a lot of slaps on the head from adult artists and bruises from unsuccessful falls.

Do you want to know how I got into the circus? Very simple. I was born and raised in the circus. My grandfather performed with trained tigers a hundred years ago. My father Ivan Lazarevich followed in my grandfather’s footsteps - he trained wild animals: shaggy lions, striped tigers, spotted leopards. And my mother worked as a rider and helped my father train the animals. Six of my brothers and one sister also became circus performers: acrobats, musical eccentrics, jugglers.

Since childhood, I helped the elders feed the animals, watched how they were trained, tried not to be a coward, although sometimes the lion’s roar made my heart sink.

The most good-natured of all the animals was the huge bear Kolka. So it seemed to me, at least. We became very good friends with him. For three years in a row he played with me, took sugar from my palm, and allowed me to stroke the thick soft fur. Sometimes after a rehearsal, my brother would put me on the bear’s back, and Kolka, snoring and slightly waddling from side to side, would ride the happy rider around the arena. It was fun and a little creepy. After all, a bear is not a racehorse!

One summer we performed in the small town of Gus-Khrustalny. The heat was straight African! It was very stuffy in our traveling canvas circus, the Chapiteau, which looked like a huge tent. Both people and animals languished from the heat. It was especially difficult for my friend Kolka the bear - can you imagine, in the summer, in such hot weather, wearing a fur coat!

Kolka was completely exhausted. He roared with good obscenities and rattled with a long chain thrown over a pole dug into the ground. Kolka breathed frequently and stuck out his long red tongue like a dog.

To prevent the bear from suffering from heatstroke, his father ordered a deep hole to be dug for Kolka under the canopy. At depth the earth is colder and wetter than at the surface. In the pit, the bear felt better - he calmed down and lay down in the cold to take a nap.

At this time I was carrying my five-year-old nephew Tolya in my arms. He cried bitter tears and shouted:

- Take me to mom, I’m thirsty, I want to pee!

Awakened by the child's crying, Kolka stood on his hind legs and placed his front legs on the edge of the pit. He lifted his muzzle upward and growled in displeasure. Since we were old friends, I did not pay attention to his growling, but tried to calm little Tolya.

The disaster happened instantly. When I passed by the pit, the irritated Kolka grabbed me by the legs with his front paws, and I flew down to the bottom. It’s good that I managed to throw my nephew away from the pit, otherwise we both would have ended up in a bear hug. Tolya screamed even louder, I joined him, calling for help with a heart-rending cry. I screamed not only from fear, but also from pain.

This angered the bear even more. He used his claws. My brothers came running to the cry and with difficulty pulled me out of the beast’s clutches. The bear tore my leg open with its claws from the middle of my thigh almost to my ankle.

Wild animals were brought here from all over the world: from the Ussuri taiga - tigers, from the Indian jungle - elephants, from Africa - cheetahs and lions, from South America - monkeys and parrots, from the deserts Central Asia- snakes and camels, from Russian forests - bears. The zoo center distributed them to circuses and menageries, and kept sick animals until they recovered.

I was, of course, very lucky. I spent all my free time from school near the animal cages. I observed the animals, fed them, helped the veterinarian, our doctor Aibolit, treat sick animals.

Unfortunately, little training was done at the Zoo Center. Therefore, in my free time, I ran to rehearsals and performances at the Yaroslavl market in the menagerie, where my sister’s husband and Tolin’s father, Alexander Nikolaevich Kornilov, performed with a group of lionesses.

Durov loved animals and wrote stories about them. In a huge house in which lived bears, an elephant, various breeds of domestic animals... He not only kept them, but taught them various tricks so that they would be able to enter the circus arena. The animals also taught him a lot.

And Chushka (a wonderful pig) studied among them. I gave a piece of meat, walked away and she followed me. So she began to follow me and not leave a single step. She studied the first lesson perfectly.

At the second lesson, I brought her a piece of bread, greased with lard. When I moved it over her head, she managed to roll over. For this she received the coveted sandwich. Using the same bait, the animal mastered walking under the gate. Then she had a test - a rehearsal in the circus arena, which at first forced her to press herself to my feet. I began to urge her on with a long whip, after which she realized that just as the owner does not hit with a whip, she comes up for encouragement.

So I trained her to jump over the obstacle. One day, Chushka was harnessed by a horse and I was summoned to a trial, but I was acquitted, since she did not scream, people were just screaming enthusiastically.

I decided to teach Piggy how to fly in the air. Lifting her on the straps, he received a frightened grunt. But after receiving food, she didn’t care, and sometimes even slept in the air. I started feeding her after the alarm went off and now she started jumping.

And then the long-awaited day came with a poster: “There’s a pig in the clouds!”

The people were interested, everyone wanted to see this spectacle. Everyone saw a flying pig, and it jumped down and the heroine flew down, but the parachute opened. Thus, she became famous throughout Russia.

To buy an elephant, I went to Hamburg, to a man who sold animals. I was assured that he would be small - a dwarf, but he quickly gained weight and height. He was naughty like a child!

Watching him, I realized that he performs actions with his trunk, as if with his hand. He could feel it and tried to stroke me. I nicknamed him Baby. When I pretended to leave, then the animal became very worried and ran after me. He could not bear separation and was afraid to be alone.

The trunk gave the herbs to the sick donkey, who did not receive a portion of oats because he had an intestinal disorder. He liked the process and repeated the action.

There were rumors throughout the city about the formidable elephant Samson, who did not want to return to the zoo. In my opinion, this would not happen to an animal if it was treated well.

Having gone to another city, my Baby ran away and crashed the show. It turns out that he had never seen a broom, we thought bad omen, and here his droppings were removed after him and he left the circus arena in fear.

Durov achieved success in training animals with the help of gentle treatment and constant training. Taking into account the taste preferences of its artists.

Stories about trained animals. Vladimir Durovmy animals

V.L. Durov
My animals

Dear young readers!

OUR BUG

CHUSHKA – FINTIFLYUSHKA

Durov - My animals. Picture for the story

Currently reading

Dear young readers!

OUR BUG

CHUSHKA - FINTIFLYUSHKA

PIGTY PARACHUTTER

ELEPHANT BABY

SEA LIONS LEO, PIZZI AND VASKA

KASHTANKA, BISHKA AND PAYTAYKA

IN TOPTYGIN'S HOUSES

BORKA AND MARCHED

HEDGEHOG MITTE AND REEL

MONKEY MIMUS

CROW ARTISTS

DANCER CRANES AND SANDALEOCHEN

Notes

Picture or drawing My animals

Other retellings for the reader's diary

Stories about trained animals. Vladimir Durovmy animals

V.L. Durov My animals

Dear young readers!

OUR BUG

CHUSHKA – FINTIFLYUSHKA

Durov - My animals. Picture for the story

Currently reading

Dear young readers!

OUR BUG

CHUSHKA - FINTIFLYUSHKA

PIGTY PARACHUTTER

ELEPHANT BABY

SEA LIONS LEO, PIZZI AND VASKA

KASHTANKA, BISHKA AND PAYTAYKA

IN TOPTYGIN'S HOUSES

BORKA AND MARCHED

HEDGEHOG MITTE AND REEL

MONKEY MIMUS

CROW ARTISTS

DANCER CRANES AND SANDALEOCHEN

Notes

Picture or drawing My animals

Other retellings for the reader's diary

V.L. Durov
My animals