Day of birth: August 1st, 1993
Breed: Spitz - mongrel
Color of hair: Wolf white
Height in the withers: About 12 inch
Mass: 18 to 22 lbs (according to the amount of hairs)
We bought a puppy on September 22nd, 1993. More precisely, a tiny thing of the fully definite but not authorized breed, named "thoroughbred mongrel". Bertík's parents (BTW, we had decided for the name of our new family member before we chose it) are Samoyed (father) and cross-bred of the Wolf Spitz and Samoyed (mother). Bertík is smaller than typical representatives of both the breeds even now when it is adult. I think that it is so that it may fit below the armchairs or on its favorite place in the kitchen - just beside the refrigerator. The thing is that agreeable smell of sausages and cheese goes out of that big white "kennel"...
Already when we carried this small hairy ball home its typical qualities appeared. He had to bite something constantly (preferably the hand) and for a while it put on the appearance of an "innocent" one. However, be angry at somebody when it is so wee, that it goes in only one hand! It beguiled part of the journey by laying in so-called control position in the car - head and paws extended as far as possible (the pads of the paws upwards). What if I missed something? Or somebody poked me? Besides, I must assuredly look at these queer people, who are taking me from my mom. I wonder if I'll see her any more? Surely! She does love me. And me do her. I wish they would return me.
Mom, where are you? What are they doing? Why are they leading me to the other people's house.
So, now I could try to behave. Maybe they might throw me away . What about sniffing here a bit? What is it? A table, an armchair, oh look - another one - it'll be mine! - a couch (it is so high, I can't climb on). Wooooow - candys (YUMM, it was very good). Gosh, why are they shouting? They were master's? Who is he? May be that one with specs over there.
Never mind, I'll have a nip now and then I'll go home...
As long as the neighbours didn't know Bertík, somebody asked us continually, how is it possible that we are taking a fox for a walk. For Bertík looks like one surely. Only colouring of its muzzle is a little different. Whilst the polar fox has its muzzle white, Bertík has black dots on it and the vicinity of the eyes is pure black.
In the course of time he became a bear, a marten, a weasel and a few of other animals that occured to the neighbours at the moment. As lately as about a half of year later they were willing to speak of it as a dog.
Unfortunately our darling belongs among night creatures. It sleeps mostly during the day and only when the evening is coming it starts to play and annoy. The top of it is in the night - it bites various toys, bones and it is playing with the tennis ball so actively that you can hear a bang every while as the ball hot crashed the wall.
Imagine: It is one a.m. and you have a very nice dream about bathing in the sea or about playing ice-hockey at the Olympics and there are three minutes left (the score is draw) and all of you try hard to score another goal and all of the sudden you feel something atrociously frosty and wet on your face. You'll open the eyes and it so-called "laughs to face" to you, your dog friend.
Wow, it was a success. I practiced it on all the three mistresses. And not just once! They always played with me at least a while afterwords. Of course, unless they are so tired that they fall asleep before their hand scramble from under a blanket.
When a reel of thread got to the puppy's claws it was useless during a few seconds. Bertík always managed to lacerate it during a very short moment. Now it abandoned this hobby, but now it passes the time by distributing bones along the whole apartment. No one is surpriseed he has a bone in his bed, which he personally moved to the kitchen 10 seconds ago (for the third time during the evening). It is your problem, if you wouldn't take it from me all the time you would save a lot of time. You know that the bone will fetch up in your bed during the night in the worst case. The food surely is entitled to some cover and a pillow, too!
When we were at the "Exhibition of the dogs of mongrel breed" with Bertík in the '94 summer, it grew on the jury so much that it won in its category and it had got a diploma. I have it saved still.
It was marvelous there! If only the weather were no so hot! But those dog-friends, who were there... Some of them were similar to me, even. Only the colors of our furs was different. Other dogs were so big - but I could cope with them. For example the New Foundland dog, he fled away. Now I'm remembering the young lady who looked like a "mongrel". I'd like to bark with her sometimes - you see, to speak. ... Yeah, yeah, what a beautiful day!
In that time our darling was one year old sharp - maybe one day before it - and imagine, this day the master went for the walk with the dog for the first time. He said he could go outside with the champion, but not with the mongrel. On no account!
Our champion has a very engaging fur. We like to "delve" into its hairs. I don't know a better thing that to have both hands in the fur of the shaggy creature. Mainly in winter. But the worse thing is when I put my head there (exactly face). You could not believe how many hairs can the "little barking nothing" have. When I pick out of my mouth all of them which fell out from Bertík, it looks that the dog has all in its fur.
Our "overgrown puppy" has a penetrating voice. And it likes to persuade us about it all the days. I am sure that he would be a very good guard because if somebody goes through the corridor Bertík starts to bark and he is saying that no stranger is allowed enter our flat. This continuous barking drives our neighbours mad. In fact, our pet doesn't want to understand the words like: "Be quiet!", "Stop it!" or "Shut up". It can't be true! I understand exactly "what the poet says" (is this correct? or writes?). Believe me, my mistress, we both have our own minds, I can't do everything your way. It would be a "dog-life".
There are people living in our house who return home after midnight. People don't love such reveilles, I am afraid. The only exception is neighbour's Ninette (Lady of Briard). She likes to join our deafening pet. Things go better for a pair.
Continuously shred papers, boxes, handkerchiefs or pencils are a very good example of its teeth sharpness and speed. Although we strive to bury these things (mainly the pencils) in a place where it doesn't reach, it frequently manages to "hunt down" something.
By the way, it loves hunting. When we were at a visit to our acquaintance in the country one summer we allowed Bertík to run along the farmyard freely and it succeed to hunt down a chicken. Since the time it can't go there lest it should repeat that. It's very strange that it aimed at the chicken because in that time there were five cats on the farmyard too. Yes, they were there but they took flight.
We have big problems not only with its hunting instinct but with upkeeping its fur too, because it resents combing and bathing. As soon as it feels that bath is due, it starts to snarl and it doesn't allow anyone to approach. Fortunately, we won always so far. When we took it to the pond one summer, in order to let it bath in the open air, it joined us in water only after a long hesitation. It was a betrayal. Always when I said something, my mistresses obey. But this time they would leave me along at the bank perhaps all the day, I think. They are very, very feckless. They would leave a defenceless dog along too long. Suppose I wounded myself? I had no choice but jump into the water.
I have one advice for those of you who like to amuse with comical performances. It's very funny to observe Bertík when it strives to catch a flying bee or fly. It runs like a runaway, it barks and it jumps high. In the meantime it manages to stand on hind legs and "play the gentleman". It stands on hind legs in the same way if it is outside and it doesn't see somewhere (for example because a small mound is in front of it).
If it senses a colleague dog outdoors it likes play the gentleman too. But not only it stands on the hind legs for a while, but even it walks two or three metres in this position. When Bertík approaches to fleecy dog, it adds barking and snarling to its stand-in piece. If the colleague dog apes Bertík our little monster displays its teeth. In this time the others take fright, although Bertík doesn't bite anyone.
Tell me, my mistress, why don't you mention my beloved garden? (For your better understanding, I don't like beds too much but there are two Alsatians awaiting me in the garden. And I much like to run with them, even though they are on the other side of the fence.) When I exhaust those two giants so that they can't move and they are only lying, I begin getting bored. Then I start to sniff and I go to reap harvest. I eat every red strawbery (YUMM, YUMM), I dig out a few potatoes and carrots. Then my mistress tumbles into my half meter deep pit just in the middle of the bed - because I thought that I felt a mouse together with the carrots, so I raked and raked until a mouse disappeared. But the pit remained there. And a second one over there, and there is the third. Such a mouse monster! It escaped again!
I've got the best alarm surely. In the morning Bertík will come so called "to the service". When it hears these words from the oldest mistress Bertík runs through the whole apartment and then it jumps into my bed and it lickes me. He prefers my hands and neck. It always waits until I'm completely wet - because it knows, that wet person has a big problem to drop off again. Then it jumps down and contentedly observes my drying.
(A very little note: the text, which is written in this way was written by Bertík's youngest mistress, and all the text written in this way the dog itself wrote. To explain - all may be seen in its eyes. It hides nothing from me. Maybe only where the sausage, the blue socks with strips and the pages 11 to 14 and 17 to 18 from my favourite magazine disappeared. Maybe also how is it possible that I have no bone in my bed today.) The English translation was made by its middle mistress.
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