Think Like a Dog

Think Like a Dog

“Ballet slippers and a lost dog”

Once there was a lovely ballet dancer in Russia. Her name was Katrina. People went to see her whenever the Ballet was performing. They came from miles around because Katrina was so graceful and her movements so fluid that people were enthralled. She was the most popular performer in Russia – and she was incredibly beautiful.

“I want to be just like Katrina when I grow up,” said thousands of little girls all through the land. Little Natasha said it too. Only she knew that she could never be like Katrina. When Natasha was born, one of her feet was turned inwards. Oh, she could walk all right but certainly not gracefully like her idol, Katrina. She tried jumping and twirling about as a ballerina does but sometimes she fell. Often Natasha would cry because she wanted so badly to be a dancer.

“Why do you hurt yourself like that, Natasha,” scolded her mother. “Forget about dancing. You are a pretty girl. When you get older, you will get married to someone who does not care about your foot and you will be happy. You will see.” Natasha did not believe it.

“But I want to be a dancer, mama,” Natasha cried. She knew her parents did not have much money. Her father worked for the government in one of their district offices. She had four brothers and so her father’s wages went to feed and clothe the family. In fact, they often did without. At school, it was only occasionally that anyone dared to make fun of Natasha’s turned in foot. They knew that if they did so, they would have to deal with her four brothers.

Her parents had been to see many doctors to see if anything could be done about her foot. Every doctor said the same thing. It might be possible to straighten the foot, but it was a long, slow process and really expensive. Although Natasha’s father and mother wanted to do something, when they found out how much it would cost, they knew they would never be able to save up the amount needed – or even come close. Poor little Natasha. She would just have to go through life with one of her feet bent inwards.

One day, Natasha heard some wonderful news. The Ballet was coming to her city. They would give three performances as part of their country-wide tour that year. Natasha was ecstatic. Her parents knew how much Natasha loved the Ballet and they promised to take her to see it – and her idol, Katrina –provided she was a good girl. Natasha was always good, and her parents thought it would bring some joy to her otherwise sad life.

On the day before the troupe was expected to put on their first performance in the city, Natasha was in school when a classmate asked her, “Did you hear about Katrina?”

“Yes, she is performing here Saturday evening.”

“No, I mean about her dog.”

“No. What about it?”

“Well, everybody knows that Katrina travels with her little dog, Mishka. She says having the dog with her brings her good luck and good performances. This time, Katrina came here a few days early because she has relatives and friends in the city. Her little dog ran away and has not returned. She may cancel her performances if she cannot find it before the show tomorrow.”

“Oh no! That is terrible! It is too sad.” Natasha knew it was awfully cold outside and she wondered how long a poor little dog, lost in a strange city would survive. She pictured it shivering on a cold street.

“Where did Mishka get lost?”

“By the Central Hotel apparently. That is where Katrina is staying. But that was yesterday morning. It could be anywhere by now.”

Natasha knew she would never be able to dance like her idol, Katrina. The least she could do, though, was to try to help her find her lost dog. She resolved to go into the center of the city and look around after school.

“Nadya,” she asked a friend who lived near her, “would you do me a favour, please? When you get home, run over to my house and tell my mother that I have to run an errand in the city so I will be late getting home.” Nadya agreed to pass the message along.

When classes ended for the day, Natasha walked across the school yard to where the school vans were parked. One of these vans was driven by Mr. Druchkyn.

“Mr. Druchkyn, how are you today?”

“I am as well as can be expected, little one. What can I do for you?”

“Mr. Druchkyn, I need to go into the city on an errand. May I go with you, please?”

Of course. I have room for an extra passenger. But I can only take you as far as Grenski Avenue. Then I have to turn around.”

“That will be fine. Thank you.” Natasha knew that the Central Hotel was only a short walk from Grenski Avenue.

When the school van dropped her off in the city, Natasha started to walk towards the hotel. As she walked, she tried to think where a little dog might be. “What would I do if I was a little dog?” she wondered. “I’d probably try to go somewhere nice and warm and where someone would feed me.” Natasha looked and looked. She walked all over until her club foot began to ache. She was beginning to feel very cold when she saw a sign that read MINSK SAUSAGE COMPANY.

“They make sausages in there. If I was a dog, I wouldn’t be able to read the sign, but I could sure smell the sausages!” I’ll bet anything that Mishka is somewhere near here. He probably smelled the sausages from the hotel. That could be why he ran away. He was hungry.” Though it was hard for Natasha to with her bent foot, she ran anyway. She tried to hurry as much as she could bear.

“Mishka! Mishka!” she called out. She peered into every nook and cranny that was big enough for a small dog to squeeze into. She peered under trucks, cars, in doorways, behind garbage bins, boxes and everywhere else. Then she saw what she thought looked like little footprints in the snow in a back alley.

“That looks as though a little dog was here.” She was excited. Probably there were many dogs that hung around outside the sausage factory…but maybe, just maybe, the footprints belonged to Mishka. She followed the footprints. They seemed to go around and around and then ended up at a big metal door in the back of the building. Natasha walked up and boldly knocked on the door. Nobody answered. She knocked again. This time a little louder.

The door opened and a big man wearing a hat and a white apron looked out. He looked at Natasha standing in the snow. “What do you want? If you want to buy sausages, you should go to the market. We do not sell them here.”

“Have you seen a little dog?

“Why do you want to know?” asked the big man.

“Because he is lost. His owner is sad and misses him very much.

“Well,” said the man, smiling, “it just so happens that there is a little dog here. He came in yesterday. He was very cold and ran right inside when everybody came to work. He likes sausages, too. You’d better come inside, or you’ll freeze to death out there.”

Natasha went inside. It was lovely and warm and smelled of sausages. No wonder Mishka came here. The man took her into a small room where six or seven men and women were laughing. One was holding a sausage out for a little white dog.

“Mishka!” called Natasha.

The dog turned. He ran over to Natasha, wagging his tail. He did not know her, but he knew his name and he always came when he was called. “Mishka! It is you. Katrina will be so happy.”

One of the sausage makers said to Natasha, “We will be sorry to see him go. He is so friendly. However, he should go back to his rightful owner. Besides, our inspector told us we had to send him to the animal center today. We cannot have a dog in a sausage factory. But he is so cute!”

Another worker handed her a paper bag and said, “You better take a couple sausages for him and a few for yourself.”

Mishka was small enough that Natasha was able to carry him inside her winter coat. Only his head peeked out. He looked up at her as they walked from the factory to the Central Hotel. Occasionally his little pink tongue would reach up to lick her face.

At the hotel, Natasha walked straight up to the front desk. “I’d like to see Miss Katrina, please.”

“I’m sorry, little miss; Miss Katrina does not see anybody.”

“But it’s important!”

“I’m sorry.” He turned away.

“Please, sir. If I cannot see Miss Katrina, would you please at least call her. Tell her my name is Natasha and that I have her dog, Mishka.”

At that point, hearing his name, Mishka peeked out of her coat for all to see.

“Mishka? You found Miss Katrina’s dog?” Suddenly the desk clerk smiled. “You may leave the dog with me and I’ll see that he is returned to Miss Katrina.”

“Ah…no thank you. I would like to return Mishka myself, please.”

The clerk obviously wanted to be able to say that he found the missing dog and perhaps earn a reward. “All right then, come with me. We will go to see Miss Katrina right away.”

When Katrina saw her little dog, she was overjoyed. She took Mishka and he licked her face all over.

Natasha was incredibly happy to meet her idol and even more when Katrina invited her to stay for tea.

“Oh, I really would like to, but my mother and father will be wondering what happened to me. It will be time for dinner soon.”

“Well then, sit for a few minutes and tell me all about yourself and how you found my darling Mishka.”

Natasha told the famous ballerina how much she loved ballet and wanted so much to be a dancer but could never hope to dance because of her turned in foot. Then she told Katrina about the sausage factory and they laughed together.

“What a clever girl you are to think like a dog. This is my fault because I started to feed Mishka sausages last year. Now he loves them. No wonder he ran away. I shall have to make sure I keep some here for him at all times.”

Afterwards, Katrina had her driver take Natasha home. Natasha was hungry and during dinner she told her parents what had happened and how she found Mishka.

“You really are a clever one!”

“Oh, I almost forgot! The nice people at the sausage factory gave me some sausages! We can have them for dinner!”

The next day after school, Natasha was helping her mother prepare their evening meal when someone knocked on the door.

“Who could that be?” Her father answered the door. Katrina stood there.

“May I come in,” she asked. “I cannot stay long because I have to go and prepare for tonight’s performance, but I wanted to thank Natasha again for finding Mishka for me. I was totally lost without him.”

She gave Natasha’s father an envelope with tickets for the whole family for her Saturday performance – right in the front row. Then she said, “I have a good friend in Moscow who is a wonderful surgeon. Today I spoke to him and he would like Natasha to go to see him. He thinks he can help to fix her foot. Then she will be able to dance. Of course, it will take a long time – maybe one year- and it will not be easy but if she really wants to dance, it will be worth it.” She looked at Natasha. “Will you do it, sweet child?”

Her father said, “Your gesture is much appreciated but there is no way we could afford…” Katrina held up her hand.

“Do not worry. There will be no cost to you to do this. It is my way of showing how much I appreciate what your daughter did for me.” Her father nodded his head. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes.

“Good,” said Katrina, standing up. This is for you, Natasha.” She handed the little girl a package. When Natasha opened it, she found a pair of white ballet slippers. “Those were mine, Natasha when I was growing up and when I wanted to be a ballet dancer. I hung them in my bedroom and looked at them every day. Becoming a good ballet dancer takes a lot of hard work – every day…an awful lot of hard work. It will be even harder for you, Natasha, because you will have to spend time in the hospital first. These slippers are to remind you every day that you can do anything you want to if you want it bad enough and are willing to work very hard to get it. You will be able to dance in the ballet one day. I know it because you have the determination to make it happen. You helped me to find my little lost Mishka. I want to help you to reach your dream. Who knows? Maybe I am helping a future star of the Bolshoi Ballet.

©March 2021 Robert W. F. Taylor

This story first appeared as ‘Natasha and Mishka’ in my book of short stories called ‘The Purple Forest and Other Stories about Children Around the World’ self-published with Smashwords in 2012.