1 December: "Lola, what will become of you when you are dead? what will become of your body?" "If..." "No; that is no answer! You are to spell properly!" "Zu esen für wurm" ( = food for worm.) "And, Lola ... your soul? do you know what that is?" "Ja, nur get in himmel!" ( = yes (it) only goes to heaven!) "Did you hear people say that?" "Yes!" From this it would seem that any seeking after the dog's own sensations on the subject are useless. By the way, some time before I had read Rolf's remark to her: "All tier hat seel, guck in aug" ( = all animals have souls, look in their eyes). And I then asked her: "Do you know what a soul is?" And she had said: "Yes." "Have I a soul?" "Yes!" "Has a stone one?" "No!" "And a horse?" "Yes!" "A bird?" "Yes!" "And water?" "No!" "Have all dogs?" "Yes!" Lola had rapped this all out very nicely, and I praised her, to which she made response by a little spontaneous rapping—"isan..." "What does that mean?" "ich o wi glücklich!" ( = I, oh—how happy!) "Because I am pleased?" "Yes! yes!"
4 December: To-day I said to Lola: "Why don't I understand dog-language?"[23 ] "Oft eil" ( = often hurried.) "Yes, but even when I have tried, and paid attention I cannot understand!" "In hauch—zsuvzaes" ( = the first two words are "in breath," the remainder quite vague!) In a quarter of an hour I showed her a card on which a small child and a dog were looking at each other, and beneath—in Latin characters was written: "Wer bist du?"[24 ] "Can you read that?" I asked. "Yes!" So I put the card aside and said: "What is the second word?" "Bist." "But do you understand the sentence?" "Yes." "Which is saying it—the dog or the child? Look at both of them, they are young, and have met for the first time in their lives." "Both!"
11 December: "Lola! why do you and Frechi always bite one another when you are allowed to go loose?" "Ambitious!" "Ambitious to see who is the stronger?" "Yes!" "And which of you two is the strongest?" "Frechi!" She had applied the word with a nice sense of fitness: when two dogs meet for the first time this is exactly the feeling that arises—either one of them is by far the strongest—a fact that both of them will be aware of, and silently acknowledge—or, their strength may be pretty evenly matched—in which case a fight will ensue, possibly even several fights, before the issue is finally decided. Is this not often spiritually the case between man and man?
13 December: Lola had been chasing after the game and had been punished by having to go without her food. She was however, in high spirits and rapped "esen!" following this hint in half an hour with "zu esen!" ( = (give me) to eat!) I explained to her that this could not be done: that a punishment was imperative, if she would not break herself of her evil habits. Then Lola rapped out suddenly. "Lere mich artig sein!" ( = teach me to be good!")
22 December: I have been showing her a picture in a book of Fairy Tales. My brother was present at the time, and it was the picture of the house of a robber, the house being drawn so as to represent a face: it had indeed been very cleverly executed.
"Lola," said I, "whatever is there about that house—do you notice anything?" (And thought she would rap "face.") She rapped. "Is a person!" I avoided looking at it again and merely asked, "Tell me, does it look friendly, or angry, or nice?" "Spetisch." "Spöttische?" ( = mocking.) "Yes." And we both thought this reply admirable, for the "house" does look at one most "mockingly" out of the corners of its eyes.
31 December: "Lola, have you got worms?" "Yes!" "How did you get them?" "Ja, zige!" "An animal?" "Yes." "Is there a goat ( = ziege) near here?" "Yes!" I had seen none about, but asked her again: "Where is the goat?" "Droif." "Do you know the name?" "Mittel!" ( = her expression for anything she is uncertain about.) "Why did you say droif?" "I not any sort of word will give!" On making further inquiries I found that there was a goat in the immediate neighbourhood, and that the name of the family who owned it was Freund. I had never mentioned this name to Lola, so that she could only have heard it in the course of conversation among the people about, and then not very distinctly. In the evening, while I was absent, Lola stole some Marzipan. I expostulated with her in a serious, though friendly manner, and this evidently made her feel exceedingly uncomfortable, for she suddenly rapped—"Sag irgend böse!" ( = say something angry!)
1 January, 1917: "What is to-day?" "1.1. 1917!" "On this day we give good wishes to every one, so I will wish you much to eat, good health, and much going out: now wish me something!" "Am geln ..." (most indistinctly) I told her to repeat it, and she began again—"Am gu ... elen zu aufhören!" (i.e. am quälen zu aufhören = to cease teasing.) "You can't put a w after a g," I told her, but she persisted, and I waited in patience. There is no "q" in her alphabet, so she had found a way out very neatly! "Do I tease Lola?", I asked. "mich!" ( = me!) This is indeed sad! and I am not conscious of my failing, indeed, I think that Lola has a very good time on the whole!
7 January, 1917.: "Now tell me something you would like to have explained, but mind you rap loudly and distinctly." "Ich o si so wenig kene." "Who is si?" "Dich!" ( = thou!) (The reply had been "I know (or understand) you so little.") "Tell me what it is you don't understand about me? tell me something every day: what is it now?" "Work when I say no!" I tried to explain to her that my anxiety to get her work so lay in my desire for more knowledge about dogs—so that I might be able to tell everybody all about them, and thus make them kinder to animals. I took much time and trouble over my explanation, and at length Lola gave a responsive "Yes."
10 January: To-day we returned to the foregoing conversation: "Tell me what you don't understand about me?" "The food has also been worse lately!" she remarked. On this vexed subject I also attempted elucidation. I sought to explain the conditions of war, and that the amount of food available became less in consequence: that we people were no better off in this respect, and so on! And at length she again said "Yes!" Then I thought I would change the subject and asked her: "Why did Geri sigh so outside the door last night, and why does he look so unhappy to-day?" "er auch hat esen wolen!" ( = he also wanted to eat!)