I Have Never Thought a Dog Could Teach Me So Many Lessons

Throughout my life, I had many dogs, and each of them was unique and special in its own way. This is a story of Max, who… without saying a word achieved the impossible and made me change my mind. Everyone who knows me knows that I take my time to make a decision, however, when I make a decision, it's done. I never change my mind. Except for this one situation…

After Andy left me and emigrated to Australia I was devastated, dejected and mentally unstable. I felt lonely beyond belief as if (again) nobody understood me. I was lost and all I wanted was a dog. I knew a dog was the only soul who could help me get through this situation. What I didn't know, was all the lessons this dog would teach me.

I believe that everyone deserves a second chance, therefore all the dogs I ever had came from a shelter. I gave them a second chance. And so I search online for a dog in a pound. I couldn't afford to get one in Germany, where I lived at that time, so I looked for one in Poland. I found a wonderful St. Bernard. The only little problem was it was about 100km from the place where my parents lived. I took a couple of days off work and on the bus went to Poland. My parents were very excited when they picked me up from the bus stop. They hadn't seen me for years, so they couldn't wait to hold me and talk to me. Do you know what were the first words I said to them? "I want a Bernhardiner". I didn't even say "Hello" or "How are you?" No, nothing. Just "I want the Bernhardiner". I feel a bit bad about this until today… But then, I wasn't myself, I was mentally damaged and my parents somehow understood it. I admire them for how well they were able to deal with me and the situation I put them into. They tried to convince me that we should go to the local pound and see what they had instead of driving so far (for Europe 100km it is a long drive; in Australia, it is just down the road). They said that we could have a look at what was in the local animal shelter, and who knew, maybe they had a nice dog too. But no, I was repeating like a mantra "I want the Bernhardiner". After a very long while, I agreed to go and have a look in the local pound. "OK, if this makes you happy, then let's go and have a look. But I am not getting any dog from that pound. I already found the dog I want! I want the Bernhardiner!!!" I said very angrily.

At the pound

What I faced there was horrible, dreadful, somehow grisly. It is not the pound you see in Australia where the dogs have their own cages and are quite well looked after. No, the cages were crammed with dogs of different breeds. The canine faeces covered the concrete floors. Some of the animals were in terrible conditions, their bodies clearly revealing the dreadful traumas they had to suffer before they found a shelter in this place. Wherever I could put my eyes I could see plenty of pain and suffering… It was not because the people employed in the pound were cruel. No, they put their heart and their soul into the job they did. Nevertheless, in a country where human beings themselves have to fight to survive, there is not much left for the other living creatures. I walked from cage to cage struggling with what I saw… And all the way, I could feel the eyes of one particular dog following my every move and my every step. I glimpsed at him. He was big, locked in a relatively small cage and surrounded by little dogs. His legs were covered with small wounds from the bits of the little beasts. All the miniature canines were barking furiously and jumping around him. He didn't make a sound. He just stand there like a statue without making any move and watched me. We were passing his cage when the carer in a very calm voice said to me "He is a very good and smart dog, well trained, well-behaving. Just take him for a walk and you will see for yourself. There are not many dogs like him". "He is a Doberman, not a Bernhardiner. I am not taking him anywhere" - I replied angrily and I continued walking waiting for the end of the walk and the torture of seeing the suffering of all these innocent creatures. Finally, I could go back. Nevertheless, I had to pass the cage with the silly annoying dog that wouldn't stop watching me! And the awful carer madden me even more by repeating again "He is really a lovely dog. He needs a walk. You don't have to take him, just give him a chance to go with you for a walk. His name is Max" "Ok, I take him for a walk, but there is not any chance that I will take him with me. I want the Bernhardiner!" - I replied furiously and took the stupid canine for the stupid walk. I was so angry, I was sure I would never ever take this dog with me, even if it would be only to show everybody that they will not tell me what I should do! I want the Bernhardiner!!! We walked. It was only Max and me. He was calm, slightly shaking all over his body, but walking perfectly next to my leg. From time to time he glimpsed at me and it felt as if he with all his heart, soul and body would beg me "Please, please, take me with you. I will do anything you want me to do. Please, don't put me back into the cage".

I cannot describe the feeling he gave me, it was kind of surreal as if he could talk to me soul to soul.

The walk wasn't long but long enough for me to calm down. We came back, I looked into Max's eyes again and… I said, "I am taking him". I simply didn't have the heart to put him back into the cage with the annoying biting little creatures. I don't know how Max did it, but he was able to completely change my mind just… by the way he looked at me. No, it wasn't his training that convinced me, it was the feeling of love and… kind of faith he had in me. There were so many dogs in the pound, old and young, big and small, aggressive and quiet, but he was the only one who had the "special look".

I couldn't believe that I changed my mind and ended up with him in the car. Nevertheless, this also showed me that if a dog can have so much power to change people's minds, to influence his own life, how much more power we humans can have? It is how I understood that my life depends only on me and who I am in my heart…

He wasn't the St Bernhard I wanted, but he was the best!

Three days later we were on the train on our way back to Germany. In the compartment of the car, there were only us and one other girl. At some point, I had to go to the bathroom so I left Max for a few minutes with the girl. When I came back the girl said "It is amazing how strongly the dog is connected to you. I have never seen a dog so greatly attached to its owner. It is beautiful to see something like this." I have never told her that I had Max just for a few days…

Max was amazing. He was so different from Dina. Dina had the… "short man syndrome" and she absolutely hated any dogs bigger than her. She also could not stand mirrors - when there was some mirror she had to pass, she would walk with her head down and as quickly as possible, just to avoid the view of her reflection. Max, on the contrary, found himself extremely beautiful and the sight of his reflection was one of the most beautiful pictures he saw. While passing a mirror he would always stop, just to be able to admire his reflection, and sometimes when he was locked in a room with a big mirror he could sit in front of it and just admire himself.

He also had some kind of justice in him and if in his opinion I wasn't being fair with him, he could get offended and sad. I remember one time I came very late from work and I was extremely tired. I just wanted to relax. Max was very excited to see me and he started running through the house, slipping the rugs into the corners of each room. At some point I got upset and in a raised voice I told Max to stop. In one second all his excitement was gone, he got very quiet and… he disappeared. I was calling him and looking for him all over the apartment - no trace of the dog. Finally, I walked into a very small room, kind of a walk-in wardrobe, which door was closed. Max was there, lying behind the door and didn't want to let me in. It was almost as if he was saying "You hurt me. I am sitting here in the house all day long waiting for you to return. And then, when you finally come, I get so excited, I am so happy to see you and you get angry with me? Why? It is not fair!". I felt really bad that time. I tried to talk to Max and get him out of the room, but he wasn't going to come out. I had to leave him alone for an hour or so and then he came to me. I gave him a pat and we were friends again. Since then, every time when I did something that in his opinion was unfair, he took his bed and walked into the little room and often even closed the door behind him (he just pushed the door). I had to go and chat to him, actually, apologize for what I did. Nonetheless, even after I apologized he still didn't come out straight away. No, he stayed alone in this room and after a while, he came out - without the bed of course. It was my job to take his bed and put it in the usual place.

Other times, when he did something naughty and I got angry with him, he just went to his place and watched me waiting for me to calm down. It was more like he was saying "OK, I was wrong. I am sorry. Are you still angry with me?" I could not be angry with him for long. And as soon as I smiled at him, he run to me wagging his very short tail (his tail wasn't cut, he was born with a very short tail; and he had very long floppy ears - not typical for Doberman, but they simply weren't cut).

He was also very funny when our neighbour come to visit us. Max knew that in the "hierarchy" he is below me and therefore he was not allowed to get on the furniture. He accepted it and usually didn't even try to climb on the bed or armchair. However, he had a bit of a problem with our neighbour Patrick. Max wanted to make sure that our friend knows the right hierarchy in our home, which was Max above Patrick - in the end, the apartment is Max's territory and it was his responsibility to protect me. We hardly had any furniture in the house, a couple of big desks in the living room, a bed and one armchair in the bedroom. Mostly when somebody came (I invited only close friends) we stayed in the bedroom. I used to sit on the bed, and Patrick either on the big armchair or on the floor (I know, not very hospitable, but… he understood my situation). My bed had a wide wooden frame. So when Patrick came along Max always sat on the wooden frame of the bed, having his hind legs hanging in the air. It looked really funny, but Max was very serious about the situation. In this way, he was not as high in the hierarchy as me, but in his opinion, he was above Patrick.

This story was taken from my unpublished book called "Letters to John - From Canada". One day I hope to publish the full series of "Letters to John", but till then I decided to share snippets of my books on various social media and on writers' platforms.