A Dog Story

For a short while I was living in a house with a live-in boyfriend, Palle, and a dog. She was a mix between a longhaired Dachshund and a German shepherd, something that seemed almost physically impossibel, but there she was, a well proportioned and good looking, smallish dog. When people asked about her ancestry we would say that she was a Tibetan sheep dog and people would believe it. Trunte was her name and she liked only poodles. Both her pregnancies were with poodles and all her children took after the fathers and looked like poodles.

One wintry Sunday we took the S-train up north to take a walk around a lake. Trunte did not often get out like this, and she took off. Before we were half way round the lake we had lost her. When we came back to the station we asked for her and they found out that she was in Holte, the end of the line. She must have found our trail, but followed it the wrong way, back to the station. There she remembered that we came with a train on the north going track, so, when a train arrived she entered it and was taken on to the end of the line. There, of course, she was confused and the personnel noticed her and send word down the line.
We moved from the house to one room in an apartment, and Trunte gave birth to two little poodles. The situation became grave as the puppies grew up to poop wherever, and Trunte jumped on the bed to get away from them. When I was called in as conscientious objector we did not have the puppies anymore, but even Trunte became a problem to Palle, and he had her "put to sleep". What could I say? It was too late to say anything. It turned out that it was part of our breaking up.