In l durov my artists read. Stories by V.L. Durov from the book "My Animals". The passage or episode of the story “My Animals” that struck you the most

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, 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.

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, conduct scientific work, and train animals for performances.”

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.

“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)

Our Zhuchka

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.” 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, it’s better to 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!

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-trinket

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.

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 received delicious “fives”. 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 lost, 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.

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.

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 a famous clown; his last name was Tanti.

“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)

Our Zhuchka

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.” 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, it’s better to 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!

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-trinket

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.

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 received delicious “fives”. 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 lost, 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.

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.

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.

Vladimir Durov

“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)

Our Zhuchka

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.” 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, it’s better to 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!

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-trinket

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.

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 received delicious “fives”. 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 lost, 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.

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.

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 a 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.

Piggy skydiver

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 a 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:

- 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 site - in two or three minutes it would start buzzing.

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 is 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 arena, while I watched him from the box.

At first he stood in one place, with his 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 can you get the right 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 elephant calf! – 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.

End of introductory fragment.

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

Vladimir Leonidovich Durov

There is an amazing theater in Moscow where animals and birds perform on stage. It's called "Grandfather Durov's Corner." It was created by the wonderful circus artist Vladimir Leonidovich Durov (1863–1934).

The Durovs are an old noble family. V.L. Durova’s great-grandmother, Nadezhda Andreevna Durova, is a famous cavalry maiden, heroine of the Patriotic War of 1812. Brothers Vladimir and Anatoly were left without parents early on, they were raised by their godfather, N. Z. Zakharov, who predicted a military career for the boys and sent them first to the First Moscow Cadet Corps, then to a private boarding school. Neither brother ever graduated. They were attracted to the circus, with its acrobats, clowns, and trained animals.

In 1880, Anatoly Durov left home and entered the booth of V. A. Weinstock, then worked in other circus troupes and soon became a very famous satirical clown, performing with trained animals.

Vladimir Durov, more interested in animals and training, in 1881 entered the Hugo Winkler menagerie circus, located in Moscow, on Tsvetnoy Boulevard. Here Vladimir acted as a watchman, an assistant trainer, a so-called groomer, a balcony clown and an acrobat; later he began to try himself as a trainer, and began performing with the dog Bishka, the goat Byashka and guinea pigs. In his performances, he, like his brother, appeared before the public in the role of a clown.

Vladimir Durov was the first in the history of the circus to use a new method of training - not with beatings and canes, but with encouragement, affection and treats. This is how he achieved obedience from animals and managed to stage many very interesting performances. Amazing results were also achieved due to the fact that Durov tried to use the natural abilities of animals. To do this, he studied animals and birds, their behavior, morals and habits, and studied animal psychology.

Vladimir Durov with his four-legged and winged performers performed in various circuses throughout the country. And his dream was to build his own home for animals, place them there in the most suitable conditions for each, observe, treat, teach and show their art.

In 1910, in Moscow, on Staraya Bozhedomka Street (now Durov Street), Durov bought a house with a garden and a stable and created a zoological museum in it. Its exhibits were stuffed animals with which the artist performed. Durov also organized a laboratory there, where he was seriously engaged in scientific work. The famous Animal Theater also opened its doors to spectators here.

My animals

Our Zhuchka

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.” 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, it’s better to 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!

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...

I didn't sleep well that night. 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-Fintiflushka

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.

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 it 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 received delicious “fives”. 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 lost, 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, 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.

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 more.

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 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!”

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.

Piggy skydiver

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 a 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 trained her to get 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:

- 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 site - in two or three minutes it would start buzzing.

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

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 is 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 arena, while I watched him from the box.

At first he stood in one place, with his 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 can you get the right 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. Forty pounds? Nice dwarf! What will be next?

After all, my “dwarf” was just beginning to grow properly: he was a little over a year old. I realized that I had been deceived.

- This is an ordinary elephant calf! – 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!”

“To 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. The elephant 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.

Notes

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

Pud is an old Russian unit of weight equal to 16.38 kg.

A Pullman car is a large four-axle railway car, named after the American inventor of sleeping cars, J. Pullman (1831–1897).