The Dog Knows

It's the year 1959. And for Peter this is the time he is obliged to serve the Austrian military for nine months. To his luck, times are peaceful and military education is mostly limited to being pestered in the casern. Well, that's how he puts it.

During the week, a five-hours-ride distant to his native village close to the Moravian border, he has to stay at the casern overnights south of Vienna. But at weekends Peter is allowed to return home.

He cherishes returning each Saturday. Already in the train the young soldier sits comfortably close to the window and observes the passing-by of the landscape. There are the soft hillocks and fields of the Burgenland, the industrial suburbs of Vienna and the city itself. And then, the train continues further to the North with the green Austrian landscape gradually changing into the Northern flatlands with their golden fields, calm rivers and picturesque spinneys trenched in a tint of golden sunlight.

This is the prelude to Moravia. Strangely, the character of sunlight is different in these plains as if the bend of the globe was more significant when anywhere else.

His village is situated exactly at the border to Moravia. Well, it is somehow half of the village. The other half rests on the side of Czechoslovakia behind the Iron Curtain. Once upon a time there was vivid trade between these two village parts. Now, there is a dead end. The fact that there was a huge war between these two different periods gets deliberately ignored. But, of course, everybody knows somewhere at the back of their minds that this war only ended 14 years ago.

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At the final train station, 2 kilometers distant to Peter’s village, the train enters creaky and comes to a stop. Peter disembarks. And who sits there waiting for him? The loyal dog of the family: Hari.

With its tongue hanging sideways while fixing its puppy eyes on Peter, it lifts the ears slightly more up and then instantly jumps forward to greet the young man with joyful barks.

The dog is well known at the station as it always awaits Peter on time on Saturdays.

“Oh there, old boy. You are here!”

Peter cuddles the excited dog and then they start their journey home together. Dog and human striding on the humble path along the golden fields to their left and right under the friendly sun of late summer.

It is no coincidence that Hari, the dog, knows the time and the day when to await Peter. For a while, Peter’s father was walking these routes with the dog but in the last months he got a different assignment in his job for Saturday and cannot come. Still, the dog keeps on fetching Peter.

At home, the mother and the aunt are happy to welcome Peter and then, in the evening, his father also returns. Reunion is happening at dinner time each weekend.

The time at home is framed with small rites that make the weekends pass without incidents. On Sunday mornings the family goes to church together and listens to the sermon of the local priest who is the central soul of the village. And in the afternoon Peter leaves again, with Hari watching the train rolling out of the station.

While Hari is fully attached to humans, it is not so much the other way around. According to the viewpoint of people in these regions, animals have no souls. They have feelings but no real consciousness. And also Peter does not question that; the loyalty of the dog just appears to him as a simple phenomenon like sunshine after rain.

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One day, at the casern, the soldiers are ordered to run a parkour again. Peter is not at his best and then it happens. He hurts his leg so badly that the doctor at the casern diagnoses a fracture in the bone. The physician finishes his job with a plaster cast and sends Peter on a three-weeks-leave.

The public phone at the casern does not work. So, Peter travels home without notifying his parents.

With his plaster cast and a crutch put next to him, the young soldier sits again in the train watching the landscape. Wednesday. The long ride seems to be longer than usual. Having a broken leg does not thrill him. It means sitting around all day. The casern is no joy, though the prospect of boredom even less. And at home, nobody awaits him. They won’t have time for him during the week.

Finally, after a weary while, the train creaks into the final station. Peter lifts himself up with the crutch and humps along the aisle while he juggles the heavy rucksack on his back. Staggering down the stairs of the wagon he only has eyes for the ground. But suddenly he notices something and looks up.

There, in front of him, sits the dog!

Right at the station platform.

How does it know that Peter is here?

The loyal animal just watches Peter calmly. And somehow there is the impression of sadness.

“I did not know why it came here!” The station manager comes running towards Peter and stops in front of him. He points towards the dog, “I was about to get a message to your father that the dog is here. I thought it went astray. But actually, it knew you were coming!”

Speechless, Peter stares at the station manager and then at the good dog. “Thanks.” He mumbles. And then he humps forward to start his long way home. The dog follows.

Side by side they work their way along the humble path. The sun shines again. Peter is in tears. The leg hurts, his parents have no idea. Not out of neglect. They just do not know, but

…the dog knows.

END