In the evening I said: "Lola, what is it you don't understand about me?" "Cause is often roughness!" She remarked—and here I really felt that there was little that I must needs explain—for I am not conscious of meriting her reproach on this score.
11 January: "Tell me something, Lola!" I pleaded. "Mistake to go out so little," she observed. Here she was emphatically in the right! She had not been out much lately, for it had been very wet—and she needs plenty of exercise. In the evening I invited her to "say something more." "o we gwelen!" "What worries you?" "ere nehemen!" ( = taking honour!) "Taking honour about what?" "eid!" (So the old story has not yet faded from her memory).
12 January: "Well, now you've told me ever so much that you can't understand about me! But is there anything more?" "Zeig audawer (Ausdauer) in libe zu mir!" "Ausdawer? Isn't there a letter wrong?" "Yes, 4"; "What should it be?" "Au!" So the sentence ran, "Zeig Ausdauer in Liebe zu mir!" ( = show constancy in your love for me!) Yes, indeed I will, you dear beast!
ULSE'S FIRST INSTRUCTION
As I have stated, when Lola came to me she could already say "yes" and "no"; she had even some slight acquaintance with the numbers and counting. The bridge leading from man to animal had been started, and the first difficulties embarked on. The further I pursued these studies with Lola, the keener became my curiosity to know whether I should be equal to the task of tackling this work where an animal in its primeval state was concerned, thus driving in the first props of this bridge myself! I tried my 'prentice hand in this work on Geri, the beautiful German sheep-dog, who had come into my possession in 1914. This dog—owing to excess of breeding, and also, perhaps, to the impressions imbibed in his youth was unusually shy and melancholy—he lacked all natural energy to "cut a figure" in any way; he had learnt to say "yes" and "no," and I feel sure that he understood me very well, but his nervousness and his constant fear held him back from rapping out anything beyond his yes and no answers. (At a later date I was obliged to give him away, owing to the scarcity of food.) Lola's progeny, therefore, seemed to offer more promising material for fresh ventures, but all—excepting the little lady-dog—Ulse—had been dispersed, going to their several new owners, before the winter days immediately after Christmas brought me sufficient leisure for further study, and as I had to give part of this time to Lola, as well as to the writing of this book, I had but a small margin left to expend on the little newcomer. Nor can I say, to tell the truth, that my interest in her was very great; she had already been promised to someone, and the fact of her still being with me was due to the difficulties of travel in these abnormal times. But, finally, sheer pity for the small creature—sitting alone in the stable—led me to bring her in for a few hours at a time so as to play about with me and Lola. One day it so happened that I had sent Lola off, and, being alone with Ulse, (mostly accustomed to intercourse with the maids) I attempted to teach her to understand: "Sit down!" To do this I pressed the little creature down on her haunches, saying, "Sit down!" And after I had repeated this three times she understood quite well what I meant, sitting down obediently at my slightest touch, and looking at me inquiringly out of her little bright eyes. I repeated this again the next day, and also touched her paw, saying: "paw!" Then I took the small paw in my hand and said: "Give a paw!" and in a few days this, too, had been learnt. I next taught her which was her right paw—and she very soon knew the difference. Indeed, Ulse seemed to think it all great fun, and was hugely delighted at the little rewards she earned. My interest, too, had now been aroused, and I repeated the numerals to her from 1 up to 5, and got her to understand "look here!" and "attention!" Though she was on the whole more fidgety than Lola had been, yet would she sometimes sit quite still, intent on watching my hand, but the least movement in the room would start her little head off twisting to and fro to every side. One day I took her paw, saying: "Now you must learn to rap! And placing the little pad on the palm of my hand, I first counted two with it, and then continued up to 5; then I held my hand out to her and said: "Ulse, rap 2!" and she actually did! I was delighted. I should add that before Ulse had learnt to "give a paw," she had already, of herself, shown inclinations to "rap," for she would hold up her paw—gesticulating with it in the air! These vague "pawings," moreover, were distinctly the movements of rapping, although she, of course, did not know their meaning at the time. And so the ground was laid for further work, during the short time I had to spare for her—as well as the limited period she was yet to remain with me.
There can be no doubt but that heredity plays a great rôle in these cases; her quick responsiveness bore witness to this, while, in addition, Lola evidently regarded her as the "flower of her flock," for she had always singled Ulse out for special attentions, generally retiring with her alone to a distant part of the barn. The question is whether Lola may not have given her some instruction, for, to some remark of mine, she had once replied: "Teaching Ulse!" Yet, for my part, I feel doubtful whether animals do transmit to others of their kind the things taught them by human beings. However, this may be, Ulse seemed predestined, so to speak, to learn to count and spell, mastering the numbers up to five in a fabulously short time. Moreover, she rapped better than Lola, or, rather, quite as well as Lola had done when in her very best days, raising her small paw high, and then bringing it down on my hand with a decided, though rather slow, beat. Ulse was also soon able to signify "yes" by two raps, and "no" by three, but I had to keep my questions within a very narrow limit, for her intercourse was of too short a duration to enable her to acquire a lengthy or varied vocabulary. Still, we practised 2 × 1, 2 × 2, 3 × 2, and her answers were always excellent, as long as nothing else was going on to excite or distract her.
The amusing thing was that she loved doing it so that the little paw would be up in mid-air as soon as ever she saw me, as much as to show that she was quite ready for work. This was doubtless due to the very quiet existence she had led before coming indoors, and also perhaps to the little favours and tit-bits she had learnt to associate with her new accomplishments. Indeed, until these had blossomed out, her innate cleverness and brightness had gone almost unnoticed.
When I had assured myself that she fully comprehended the rapping, I endeavoured to teach her to rap on a board, instead of on my hand, a thing I had never been able to get Lola to agree to. Indeed, I had had to relinquish any hope of it, in the case of the older dog; whether it was that the scratching of her toe-nails on the board irritated her or what, I do not know, but it practically stopped her working. My only reason for trying to introduce this method at all had been to put an end to the suggestions sometimes put forward by sceptical persons that I might be "helping her with my hand!" Anyway, the ease with which Ulse took to rapping on the board, and the excellent work she did by that method should have proved a sufficient reply to all doubters, and I had been full of hope that her gifts would, in time, have been further developed by her new mistress, yet it was to be otherwise. Ulse was to have gone to her new home in Meran (in the Tyrol), but the regulations as to travel obtaining during war-time prohibited this, so I placed her under the temporary charge of a young lady, and while there she unfortunately died of mange.