20 September: "Lola," I said, "give me the reason for why you are alive! do you know one?" "Yes, no."
The next day: "Now tell me your answer as to why you are living?" "Yes!" "Well?" "Egal ich lebe gern!"... (i.e. egal is an expression of indifference, such as "it is all the same to me, I like living"). How simple and complete is the dog-point-of-view! "And is that all? didn't you wish to add something more?"... "in Welt" ( = in (the) world). The expression "egal" she will probably have picked up from me.
22 September: To-day I noticed by Lola's behaviour that she wanted to say something, so I put the question to her, and she replied. "Yes." "Well, go ahead!" "I wish to pay you for getting food for me!" "Do you want to give me money?" "Yes!" "But, where are you going to get it from—can you tell me that?" "Yes!" "From where?" "From you!" There was something quite logical about this way of arguing, for Lola had heard much talk about money, farm-hands being often paid by hour—and she had no doubt been an attentive listener and observer, at such transactions. Then—all of a sudden—she rapped. "I without work!" "What do you want to have?" "Haue!" ( = a beating!). I thought I had misunderstood her, so repeated—"haue?" "Yes!" "Say something else!" "Reckoning." But the fact remained that she really longed for a beating—not having had one for a long time, for to my repeated inquiries she kept on with "Yes!" So at length to make sure, I fetched my riding-whip and gave her a light flick, saying—"Is that what you want?" "Yes!" "And do you want more?" "Yes!" she insisted, though all of a tremble, and—unwillingly enough—I had to administer one more.
13 November: Lola had to write a letter to a lady of whom she is very fond: it ran as follows—"dear, I have just been in the yard, I like eating biscuits, I kiss you!" (I think this letter bears the evidence of being Lola's own composition!) Later in the afternoon, when she was out with me, I saw a notice put up saying: "Dogs are to be led on a leash"—and I invited her to read it, but she would only give it a glance. Both on our way back, and when we got home I returned to the subject, saying: "What was on that notice-board?" But she rapped "No!" "What? you mean to say you don't know?" She had, however, already started rapping again—"ich unaro...." "Go on! surely the o should be a t?" (Thinking she meant unartig = naughty). "No!" "Then what should it be?" "No." "Is it a dog's word?" "Yes!" "Well, tell me in a way that I can understand!" "No!" "You can't do so?" "No!" "Say something like it!" "Ja! ich irre, ich es ansehe morgen!" ( = yes! I erred, I (will) look at it to-morrow!)
On one occasion I had explained to her that there were also other languages; English and French, for instance, and I now once more tried to influence her memory by my own thoughts.
"Lola," I said, "do you know what is meant when I say—je veux manger—do you understand that?" "Yes!" "Then tell me!" "Ich wil esen!" "But do you understand this: il faut que je travaille?" "No!" "Think again!" "No!" "Travailler?" "No!" This proving that what I had not taught and explained to her she was incapable of saying—or rather, spelling.
15 November: The following incident was communicated to the "Mitteilungen of the Society for Animal Psychology" (series 1916, No. 2, page 74), by Professor Ziegler:
"Lola had been for a walk with Professor Kindermann, and on her return was discovered to have a feather in her mouth. Fraulein Kindermann asked her: "What animal's feather is that?" she answered: "Hen." "How did you come by the feather?" "Killed hen!" "Why?" "Eat up!" "And have you eaten it up?" "No!" "Why did you run away?" "Fear." "Of what were you frightened, of people?" "No!" "Then of what?" "Ursache!" ( = cause, i.e. cause of fear.) There is something rather charming here in the way in which the dog confesses to her misdeeds, and at the same time owns up to having a bad conscience!"
16 November: Lola must have noticed to-day that there was roast hare on the midday dinner table, for in the afternoon when invited to make some remark she rapped: "Zu wenig ..." (then hesitatingly) "h ..." "Are you afraid?" I inquired. "Yes." "Nonsense, I shall not scold you!" "... as!"—"Zu wenig has—who?" ( = too little hare) "Ich, o we!" ( = I, oh alas!)
18 November: To-day she started to rap nothing but nonsense; but in time it became more distinct, and ended up with "ich zälen!" ( = I (wish to) count). I asked her if this was a fact—and she promptly said "No!" She then kept on making her usual sign that she wanted to go down into the yard, so I let her out, but soon she ran up again quite briskly, and at once rapped out clearly and distinctly.—"Warum ich und sie so rau geartet?" "Is this what you mean?" "Yes!" "And—who is si meant for?" "Heni!" "What?" I exclaimed, "you are suddenly addressing me as sie?!"[22 ] "Yes!" "But Lola! that is what we only say to people we don't know well! you have always called me du because you were fond of me—isn't that so? are you saying sie intentionally now?" "Yes!" "Yes? but why?" "Because strange!" "How strange?" "Yes!" "Was: warum ich und sie so rau reartet ( = why are I and you so roughly constituted?) the end of the sentence you began before?" "No." N.B. In this manner did she wish to lodge her complaint, so to speak, against me for not always understanding her when she prefers to try and "rub in" the meaning of her faulty spelling, by gazing at me in her "intent" fashion—indeed, I had always sensed her annoyance at times when she had not been able to gain her ends in this way! In simple matters, such as "wish to eat," or "go out," I could of course, guess her desires, but she was of opinion that I ought to be more "understanding" still—and this is difficult!