Part 8 “…AND FROM THIS MOMENT PLEASE, IN MORE DETAIL.” Usually I write in the evening. First I sit–sit–sit — staring at one point. Memories of my first five-year plan in Norway will not let me go. And how to set out more correctly what happened to me in that period is no simple task.
There! I remembered! Who soothed me in hard minutes when I lost my peace of mind — it was the dog named Sami. The thing is, I had never had a dog, and here all at once — a husband, and a dog, and a cat, and daughters who are not-daughters.
When I tried to express my dissatisfaction with their behaviour, Ivan very tactfully explained to me that I am not their stepmother and nothing in their actions should worry me, whereas he is both their father and guardian, who fully bears legal responsibility. “Well, of course it is good that he is so responsible,” I thought then. (He is still responsible now; I am lucky.) But he did not bring up his daughters, did not make remarks to them and never went into their rooms. And he should have! But their bedrooms are their private territory, “where no human foot has trod.” And there was nowhere to tread! A complete jumble of things, they never made the beds. They ate and drank in bed too, and forgot to bring the dirty dishes as far as the kitchen. Well, if guests came in or drove over, leftover pizza could dry somewhere in a corner.
But Ivan had a clear daily routine. Up at 5 in the morning, a walk with the dog, a shower, making breakfast and the obligatory making of sandwiches for the daughters for school — and, of course, some amount of money for the week he always transferred to their cards.
Why did I mention money now? Because the daughters were not hungry and bought themselves food outside the house, and brought the sandwiches back and threw them away, and since we sorted the rubbish, every time I had a shock from the thrown-out bread. I started saying that bread must not be thrown away. They did not understand me. Then I started explaining to Ivan why he gathered sandwiches for them every morning so that they would throw them away when they came from school. It would be more logical simply not to give them food; let them buy what they like. No, he did not hear me and stubbornly continued to pack them food and fruit. Then I started picking the bread out of the rubbish bin myself, gathering it in a paper bag, and when we walked the dog to the sea I threw the bread to the seagulls. They are always hungry, please. All right. I solved one problem.
Now I will tell about the dog, who became a friend to me. A Border Collie, a shaggy black-and-white beauty; no one washed him or combed him; we walked him three times a day, 7–8 kilometres. I look, the fur on his chest is matted, hanging in clumps. I ask “what shall we do with the dog, how to look after him, probably he needs combing?” And Ivan tells me: “he gets angry, he is not used to a brush and I don’t touch him.” I guessed myself that one could try pulling the fur out, and he liked that very much, and gradually I put him in order.
And once I read a very useful article on how to train a dog. The main thing I took from that article and successfully applied in practice is that a dog must obey its master without question and there must not be much freedom for a dog; a dog cannot be on its own, like a cat; there must be control over it.
And it turned out like this: we would go out walking him, holding him on a long lead; there was a case when they were leading another dog toward us on a lead, and ours lunged so furiously at that dog that I had a shock. Ivan, of course, managed to hold him, but I started asking why such a violent reaction. He was already 8 then, and maybe he was so angry because he had never been taken to mate, that is, the dog had had no sex. My husband’s answer was a revelation to me: “how can a dog want what it does not know.” And what is there to know? — I thought, “a dog has instincts!” Later, when I had to walk him, I achieved obedience, walked him on a short lead; he understood the command “heel!” and, seeing neighbours walking with a dog, I would clamp my dog between my legs and hold him until he calmed down. Ah! I just remembered, I took a little treat and fed him when he was nervous. Later I learned that this breed has a very high intelligence, and if it were used for its purpose, namely herding and guarding sheep, then in that work it is an invaluable helper on a farm.