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Reads fools. Read online my animals by vladimir durov

Vladimir Leonidovich Durov entered the world history of the circus as a famous clown trainer, but not many people know that he was an outstanding zoologist who devoted his whole life to animals. The result of his many years of observation of animals, his friendship and sincere interest in them was the book "My Animals", which is of constant interest to children of many generations.

Sometimes funny, and sometimes sad, these stories will surely appeal to young readers, because they will teach the child kindness and responsiveness, love and compassion, and the amazing characters described in the book will not leave anyone indifferent.

The work belongs to the genre Nature and animals. It was published in 1927 by the publishing house IP Strelbitsky. On our site you can download the book "My animals" in fb2, epub format or read online. The rating of the book is 3.67 out of 5. Here, before reading, you can also refer to the reviews of readers who are already familiar with the book and find out their opinion. In the online store of our partner you can buy and read the book in paper form.

Vladimir Leonidovich Durov

My animals

***

There is an amazing theater in Moscow where animals and birds perform on the stage. It is called "Grandfather Durov's Corner". It was created by a wonderful circus artist Vladimir Leonidovich Durov (1863-1934).

The Durovs are an old noble family. The great-grandmother of V. L. Durov, Nadezhda Andreevna Durova, is a famous cavalry girl, heroine of the Patriotic War of 1812. The brothers Vladimir and Anatoly were left without parents early, they were raised by their godfather, N. 3. Zakharov, who predicted a military career for the boys and sent them first to the First Moscow Cadet Corps, then to a private boarding school. Neither brother ever graduated. They were attracted by the circus, with its acrobats, clowns, trained animals.

In 1880, Anatoly Durov left home and entered the farce of V. A. Vainshtok, then worked in other circus troupes and soon became a very famous satirical clown who performed with trained animals.

Vladimir Durov, more interested in animals and training, in 1881 entered the circus menagerie of Hugo Winkler, located in Moscow, on Tsvetnoy Boulevard. Here Vladimir acted as a watchman, assistant trainer, so-called bereytor, balcony clown and acrobat, later he began to try himself as a trainer, began to perform with the dog Bishka, the goat Byashka and guinea pigs. In his numbers, he, like his brother, appeared before the public as a clown.

Vladimir Durov was the first in the history of the circus to use a new method of training - not with beatings and a stick, but with encouragement, affection and delicacy. So he achieved obedience from animals and managed to put on many very interesting numbers. Striking results were also achieved due to the fact that Durov tried to use the natural abilities of animals. To do this, he studied animals and birds, their behavior, manners and habits, was engaged in zoopsychology.

Vladimir Durov with his four-legged and winged performers performed in various circuses across the country. And his dream was to build his own house for animals, to settle them there in the most suitable conditions for everyone, to observe, treat, teach and show their art.

In 1910, in Moscow, on Staraya Bozhedomka Street (now Durov Street), Durov bought a house with a garden and a stable and created a zoological museum in it. Its exhibits were stuffed animals with which the artist performed. In the same place, Durov organized a laboratory, where he was seriously engaged in scientific work. Here, the famous Animal Theater opened its doors to the audience.

My animals

Our Bug

When I was little, I studied at a military gymnasium. There, in addition to all sorts of sciences, they also taught us to shoot, march, salute, take guard - it's the same as a soldier. We had our own dog, Bug. We loved her very much, played with her and fed her with the remnants of the state dinner.

And suddenly our warder, the "uncle", had his own dog, also a bug. The life of our Bug changed immediately: the "uncle" cared only about his Bug, and he beat and tortured ours. Once he splashed boiling water on her. The dog rushed to run with a squeal, and then we saw: our Bug on its side and back had peeled off its hair and even its skin! We were terribly angry with the "uncle". They gathered in a secluded corner of the corridor and began to figure out how to take revenge on him.

“We need to teach him a lesson,” the guys said.

“That’s what we need ... we need to kill his Beetle!”

- Right! Drown!

- And where to drown? Better to kill with a stone!

- No, it's better to hang!

- Right! Hang up! Hang up!

The "court" deliberated for a short time. The verdict was adopted unanimously: the death penalty by hanging.

- Wait, who will hang?

Everyone was silent. Nobody wanted to be an executioner.

Let's draw lots! someone suggested.

- Let's!

Notes were placed in the gymnasium cap. For some reason I was sure that I would get an empty one, and with a light heart I put my hand into my cap. He took out a note, unfolded it and read: “Hang up.” I felt uncomfortable. I envied my comrades who got empty notes, but still I went for the "uncle's" Bug. The dog wagged its tail confidently. One of ours said:

- Look smooth! And our whole side is shabby.

I threw a rope around the Beetle's neck and led him into the barn. The bug ran merrily, pulling the rope and looking around. It was dark in the barn. With trembling fingers I groped over my head for a thick transverse beam; then he swung, threw the rope over the beam and began to pull.

Suddenly I heard wheezing. The dog wheezed and twitched. I trembled, my teeth snapped as if from cold, my hands immediately became weak ... I released the rope, and the dog fell heavily to the ground.

I didn't sleep well that night. All the time I imagined the Beetle, all the time her death rattle was heard in my ears. At last the morning came. Broken, with a headache, I somehow got up, dressed and went to class.

And suddenly, on the parade ground where we always marched, I saw a miracle. What's happened? I stopped and rubbed my eyes. The dog I killed the day before stood, as always, near our "uncle" and wagged its tail. Seeing me, she ran up as if nothing had happened and, with an affectionate squeal, began to rub at her feet.

How so? I hung her, but she does not remember evil and still caresses me! Tears welled up in my eyes. I bent down to the dog and began to hug her and kiss her shaggy muzzle. I understood: there, in the barn, I hit the clay with a stone, but the Beetle remained alive.

Since then, I have loved animals. And then, when he grew up, he began to educate animals and teach them, that is, train them. Only I taught them not with a stick, but with a caress, and they also loved me and obeyed.

Pig-Tinflyushka

My animal school is called Durov's Corner. It is called a "corner", but in fact it is a large house, with a terrace, with a garden. How much space does one elephant need! But I also have monkeys, and sea lions, and polar bears, and dogs, and hares, and badgers, and hedgehogs, and birds! ..

My animals do not just live, but learn. I teach them different things so that they can perform in the circus. At the same time, I myself study animals. This is how we learn from each other.

As in any school, I had good students, there were worse ones. One of my first students was Chushka-Fintiflyushka - an ordinary pig.

When Chushka entered the “school”, she was still quite a beginner and did not know how to do anything. I caressed her and gave her meat. She ate and grunts: come on! I went to a corner and showed her a new piece of meat. She will run towards me! She liked it, apparently.

She soon got used to it and began to follow me on my heels. Where I am - there is Chushka-Fintiflushka. She learned her first lesson very well.

We've moved on to the second lesson. I brought Chushka a piece of bread spread with lard. It smelled very delicious. Chushka rushed at full speed for a tidbit. But I did not give it to her and began to drive bread over her head. The ingot reached for the bread and turned over in place. Well done! This is what I needed. I gave Chushka a "five", that is, I gave a piece of lard. Then I made her turn around several times, while saying:

- Chushka-Fintiflyushka, roll over!

And she rolled over and got delicious “fives”. So she learned to dance "waltz".

Since then, she settled in a wooden house, in the stable.

I came to her housewarming party. She ran towards me. I spread my legs, bent down and handed her a piece of meat. The ingot approached the meat, but I quickly transferred it to my other hand. The ingot was drawn by the bait - it passed between my legs. This is called "going through the gate". So I repeated several times. Chushka quickly learned to "pass through the gate."

After that, I had a real rehearsal at the circus. The pig was scared of the artists who were fussing and jumping in the arena, and rushed to the exit. But there she was met by an employee and drove to me. Where to go? She timidly pressed herself against my legs. But I, her main defender, began to drive her with a long whip.

In the end, Chushka realized that she had to run along the barrier until the tip of the whip came down. When it descends, it is necessary to approach the owner for a reward.

But here's a new challenge. The clerk brought the board. He put one end on the barrier, and raised the other low above the ground. The whip slammed - Chushka ran along the barrier. Having reached the board, she wanted to go around it, but then the whip slapped again, and Chushka jumped over the board.

“My whole life has passed side by side with animals. I shared grief and joy with them in half, and the affection of animals rewarded me for all human injustices ...

I saw how the rich suck all the juice out of the poor, how rich, strong people keep weaker and darker brothers in slavery and prevent them from realizing their rights and strength. And then I, with the help of my animals, in booths, circuses and theaters spoke about the great human injustice ... "

V. L. Durov (from memoirs)

Our Bug

When I was little, I studied at a military gymnasium. There, in addition to all kinds of sciences, they also taught us to shoot, march, salute, take guard - all the same as a soldier. We had our own dog Bug. We loved her very much, played with her and fed her with the remnants of the state dinner.

“We need to teach him a lesson,” the guys said.

“That’s what we need ... we need to kill his Beetle!”

- Right! Drown!

- And where to drown? Better to kill with a stone!

- No, it's better to hang!

- Right! Hang up! Hang up!

The "court" deliberated for a short time. The verdict was adopted unanimously: the death penalty by hanging.

- Wait, who will hang?

Everyone was silent. Nobody wanted to be an executioner.

Let's draw lots! someone suggested.

- Let's!

- Look smooth! And our whole side is shabby.

Suddenly I heard a wheezing. The dog wheezed and twitched. I trembled, my teeth snapped as if from cold, my hands immediately became weak ... I released the rope, and the dog fell heavily to the ground.

I felt fear, pity and love for the dog. What to do? She must be suffocating now in her death throes! We need to finish her off as soon as possible so that she doesn't suffer. I found a stone and swung it. The rock hit something soft. I could not stand it, I cried and rushed out of the barn. The dead dog was left there… I didn't sleep well that night. All the time I imagined the Beetle, all the time her death rattle was heard in my ears. At last the morning came. Broken, with a headache, I somehow got up, dressed and went to class.

And suddenly, on the parade ground where we always marched, I saw a miracle. What's happened? I stopped and rubbed my eyes. The dog I had killed the day before stood, as always, near our "uncle" and wagged its tail. Seeing me, she ran up as if nothing had happened and, with an affectionate squeal, began to rub at her feet.

Pig-fintiflyushka

My animals do not just live, but learn. I teach them different things so that they can perform in the circus. At the same time, I myself study animals. This is how we learn from each other.

As in any school, I had good students, there were worse ones. One of my first students was Chushka-Fintiflyushka - an ordinary pig.

She soon got used to it and began to follow me on my heels. Where I am - there is Chushka-Fintiflushka. She learned her first lesson very well.

- Chushka-Fintiflyushka, roll over!

And she rolled over and got delicious “fives”. So she learned to dance "waltz".

Since then, she settled in a wooden house, in the stable.

In the end, Chushka realized that she had to run along the barrier until the tip of the whip came down. When it descends, it is necessary to approach the owner for a reward.

Gradually we raised the board higher and higher. The ingot jumped, sometimes broke, jumped again ... In the end, her muscles got stronger, and she became an excellent "jumper gymnast."

Then I began to teach the pig to stand with its front legs on a low stool. As soon as Chushka, chewing the bread, reached for another piece, I put the bread on a stool, to the front legs of the pig. She bent down and hastily ate it, and I again raised a piece of bread high above her snout. She lifted her head, but I again put the bread on the stool, and Chushka again bent her head. I did this several times, giving her bread only after she lowered her head.

In this way, I taught Chushka to "bow." The third number is ready!

A few days later we began to learn the fourth number.

A barrel cut in half was brought into the arena and the half was placed upside down. The ingot ran away, jumped up on the barrel and immediately jumped off the other side. But she got nothing for it. And the clapping of the Chamberier again drove the pig to the barrel. The ingot jumped over again and was again left without a reward. This happened many times. Chushka was exhausted, tired and hungry. She couldn't figure out what they wanted from her.

Finally, I grabbed Chushka by the collar, put it on a barrel and gave her some meat. Then she realized: you just need to stand on the barrel and nothing more.

It became her favorite number. And really, what could be more pleasant: stand quietly on the barrel and get piece by piece.

Once, when she was standing on a barrel, I climbed up to her and brought my right leg over her back. The ingot was frightened, rushed to the side, knocked me down and ran into the stable. There, exhausted, she sank to the floor of the cage and lay there for two hours.

When a bucket of mash was brought to her and she greedily pounced on the food, I again jumped on her back and firmly squeezed her hips with my legs. The ingot began to beat, but failed to throw me off. Besides, she wanted to eat. Forgetting about all the troubles, she began to eat.

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Vladimir Durov
My animals

“My whole life has passed side by side with animals. I shared grief and joy with them in half, and the affection of animals rewarded me for all human injustices ...

I saw how the rich suck all the juice out of the poor, how rich, strong people keep weaker and darker brothers in slavery and prevent them from realizing their rights and strength. And then I, with the help of my animals, in booths, circuses and theaters spoke about the great human injustice ... "

V. L. Durov (from memoirs)

Our Bug

“We need to teach him a lesson,” the guys said.

“That’s what we need ... we need to kill his Beetle!”

- Right! Drown!

- And where to drown? Better to kill with a stone!

- No, it's better to hang!

- Right! Hang up! Hang up!

The "court" deliberated for a short time. The verdict was adopted unanimously: the death penalty by hanging.

- Wait, who will hang?

Everyone was silent. Nobody wanted to be an executioner.

Let's draw lots! someone suggested.

- Let's!

- Look smooth! And our whole side is shabby.

Pig-fintiflyushka

My animals do not just live, but learn. I teach them different things so that they can perform in the circus. At the same time, I myself study animals. This is how we learn from each other.

As in any school, I had good students, there were worse ones. One of my first students was Chushka-Fintiflyushka - an ordinary pig.

She soon got used to it and began to follow me on my heels. Where I am - there is Chushka-Fintiflushka. She learned her first lesson very well.

- Chushka-Fintiflyushka, roll over!

And she rolled over and got delicious “fives”. So she learned to dance "waltz".

Since then, she settled in a wooden house, in the stable.

In the end, Chushka realized that she had to run along the barrier until the tip of the whip came down. When it descends, it is necessary to approach the owner for a reward.

Gradually we raised the board higher and higher. The ingot jumped, sometimes broke, jumped again ... In the end, her muscles got stronger, and she became an excellent "jumper gymnast."

In this way, I taught Chushka to "bow." The third number is ready!

A few days later we began to learn the fourth number.

Again drove the pig to the barrel. The ingot jumped over again and was again left without a reward. This happened many times. Chushka was exhausted, tired and hungry. She couldn't figure out what they wanted from her.

Finally, I grabbed Chushka by the collar, put it on a barrel and gave her some meat. Then she realized: you just need to stand on the barrel and nothing more.

It became her favorite number. And really, what could be more pleasant: stand quietly on the barrel and get piece by piece.

This was repeated from day to day. In the end, Chushka learned to carry me on her back. Now it was possible to perform with her in front of the public.

We had a dress rehearsal. Chushka did an excellent job of all the tricks she could.

“Look, Chushka,” I said, “do not disgrace yourself in front of the public!”

The servant washed it, smoothed it, combed it. Evening has come. The orchestra thundered, the audience made noise, the bell rang, the “redhead” ran into the arena. The show has begun. I changed and went up to Chushka:

- Well, Chushka, don't you worry?

She looked at me as if in amazement. In fact, it was hard to recognize me. The face is smeared with white, the lips are red, the eyebrows are drawn, and portraits of Chushka are sewn on a white shiny suit.

- Durov, your way out! the director of the circus said.

I entered the arena. The pup ran after me. The children, seeing the pig in the arena, clapped merrily. The pup got scared. I began to stroke her, saying:

- Chushka, do not be afraid, Chushka ...

She calmed down. I slammed the chamberier, and Chushka, as in rehearsal, jumped over the bar.

Everyone clapped, and Chushka, out of habit, ran up to me. I said:

- Trinket, do you want some chocolate?

And gave her meat. Chushka ate, and I said:

- A pig, but also understands the taste! - And he shouted to the orchestra: - Please play the Pig Waltz.

Music began to play, and Tinfly was spinning around the arena. Oh, and the audience laughed!

Then a barrel appeared in the arena. Chushka climbed onto the barrel, I climbed onto Chushka and how I scream:

- And here is Durov on a pig!

And again everyone clapped.

The “artist” jumped over various obstacles, then I jumped on her with a deft jump, and she, like a dashing horse, carried me away from the arena.

And the audience clapped with all their might and kept shouting:

- Bravo, Chushka! Bis, Trinket!

The success was great. Many ran backstage to look at the learned pig. But the "artist" did not pay attention to anyone. She greedily pissed thick, choice slops. They were dearer to her than applause.

The first performance went very well.

Little by little Chushka got used to the circus. She often performed, and the audience loved her very much.

But Chushkin's success haunted our clown. He was a famous clown; his surname was Tanti.

“How,” thought Tanti, “is an ordinary pig, sow, more successful than me, the famous Tanti? .. This must be put an end to!”

He seized the moment when I was not at the circus, and climbed up to Chushka. And I didn't know anything. In the evening, as always, I went out with Chushka to the arena. Chushka perfectly did all the numbers.

But as soon as I sat on her astride, she rushed about and threw me off. What's happened? I jumped on her again. And she again breaks out like an unbroken horse. The audience laughs. And I don't laugh at all. I run after Chushka with chamberier around the arena, and she runs away with all her might. Suddenly she darted between the servants - and into the stable. The audience is noisy, I smile as if nothing happened, and I myself think: “What is this? Is the pig mad? You have to kill her!"

After the performance, I rushed to inspect the pig. Nothing! I feel my nose, stomach, legs - nothing! I put a thermometer - the temperature is normal.

I had to call the doctor.

He looked into her mouth and forcibly poured a fair amount of castor oil into it.

After treatment, I again tried to sit on Chushka, but again she broke free and ran away. And, if it were not for the employee who looked after Chushka, we would never have known what was the matter.

The next day, an employee, while bathing Chushka, saw that her entire back was wounded. It turned out that Tanti had poured oats on her back and rubbed it on her bristles. Of course, when I sat astride Chushka, the grains dug into the skin and caused unbearable pain to the pig.

I had to treat poor Chushka with hot poultices and, almost one at a time, pick out swollen grains from the bristles. Chushka was able to perform only two weeks later. By then I had come up with a new number for her.

I bought a small cart with a harness, put a collar on Chushka and began to harness it like a horse. At first, Chushka did not give in and tore the harness. But I stood my ground. Chushka gradually got used to walking in a harness.

Once my friends came to me:

- Durov, let's go to a restaurant!

“Good,” I replied. - You, of course, will go by cab?

“Of course,” the friends replied. - And what are you on?

- See! - I answered and began to lay Chushka in the cart.

He himself sat on the "irradiation", picked up the reins, and we rolled along the main street.

What was going on here! The drivers made way for us. Passers-by stopped. The horse-drawn driver looked at us and dropped the reins. Passengers jumped up and clapped like in a circus:

– Bravo! Bravo!

A crowd of children ran after us shouting:

- Pig! Look pig!

- That's the horse!

- Do not drag!

- Bring it to the barn!

- Dump Durov in a puddle!

Suddenly, a policeman appeared as if from under the ground. I reined in the horse. The policeman shouted ominously:

- Who allowed it?

“No one,” I replied calmly. I don't have a horse, so I'm riding a pig.

- Turn the shafts! - the policeman shouted and grabbed Chushka by the "bridle". “Drive down back alleys so that not a single soul can see you. And he immediately drew up a report on me. A few days later I was called to court.

I did not dare to go there on a pig. I was tried for allegedly breaking public silence. I didn't break any silence. Chushka never even grunted during the ride. I said so in court, and I also said about the benefits of pigs: they can be taught to deliver food, carry luggage.

I was acquitted. Then there was such a time: a little something - a protocol and a trial.

Once Chushka almost died. Here is how it was. We were invited to one Volga city. Chushka was already very learned then. We boarded the ship. I tied the ingot on deck to the railing of the balcony near the large cage, and in the cage sat a bear, Mikhail Ivanovich Toptygin. At first everything was fine. The steamer ran down the Volga. All the passengers gathered on deck and looked at the learned pig and Mishka. Mikhail Ivanovich also looked at Chushka-Fintiflyushka for a long time, then touched the door of the cage with his paw - it was served (apparently, the attendant, unfortunately, did not lock the cage well). Our Mishka, don't be a fool, opened the cage and, without delay, jumped out of it. The crowd recoiled. No one even had time to come to their senses, as the bear with a roar rushed at the learned pig Chushka-Fintiflyushka ...

Although she is a scientist, she, of course, could not cope with a bear.

I gasped. Without remembering himself, he jumped on the bear, sat on it, grabbed the furry skin with one hand, and thrust the other into the bear's hot mouth and began tearing the bear's cheek with all his might.

But Mikhail Ivanovich only roared more, pulling Chushka. She squealed like the most ordinary, unlearned pig.

Then I reached out to the bear's ear and began to bite it with all my might. Mikhail Ivanovich became furious. He backed away and suddenly pushed Chushka and me into the cage. He began to press us against the back wall of the cage. Here came the servants with iron sticks. The bear beat off the blows with fury with its paws, and the more the bear was beaten outside, the more it pressed us against the bars.

I had to hastily cut out two rods from the back wall. Only then did Chushka and I manage to get out. I was all scratched up, and Chushka was thoroughly dented.

Chushka was ill for a long time after this incident.

Piggy skydiver

I had a pig Piggy. She flew with me! At that time, there were no planes yet, but they rose into the air in a balloon. I decided that my Piggy should also take to the air. I ordered a white calico balloon (20 meters in diameter) and a silk parachute to it.

The balloon rose into the air like this. A stove was made of bricks, straw was burned there, and the ball was tied to two pillars above the stove. About thirty people held it, gradually stretching it. When the balloon was filled with smoke and warm air, the ropes were released and the balloon rose.

But how to teach Piggy to fly?

I then lived in the country. So Piggy and I went out onto the balcony, and on the balcony I had a block arranged and belts lined with felt were thrown over it. I put the straps on Piggy and began to carefully pull her up on the block. The pig hung in the air. She swung her legs frantically, and how she squealed! But then I brought a cup of food to the future pilot. Piggy, smelling delicious, forgot about everything in the world and took up dinner. So she ate, dangling her legs in the air and swaying on her straps.

I lifted it on the block several times. She got used to it and, having eaten, she even slept, hanging on her belts.

I taught her to get up and down quickly.

Then we moved on to the second part of the tutorial.

I put the strapped Piggy on the platform where the alarm clock was. Then he offered Piggy a cup of food. But as soon as her snout touched the food, I took my hand away from the cup. Piggy reached for the delicious, jumped off the platform and hung on the straps. At that very moment the alarm went off. I did these experiments several times, and Piggy already knew that every time the alarm clock rings, she will receive food from my hands. In pursuit of the cherished cup, when the alarm clock rang, she herself jumped off the platform and swayed in the air, waiting for a treat. She's used to it: when the alarm goes off, she has to jump.

All is ready. Now my Piggy can fly.

Bright posters appeared on all the fences and pillars of our summer cottage area:

PIG IN THE CLOUD!

What happened on the day of the performance! Tickets for the suburban train were taken with a fight. The wagons were packed to capacity. Children and adults hung on the steps.

Everyone said:

- And how is it: a pig - yes in the clouds!

“People still don’t know how to fly, but here is a pig!”

There was only talk about the pig. Piggy became a famous person.

And so the show began. The balloon was filled with smoke.

Piggy was led out onto the platform tied to the ball. We tied the pig to the parachute and attached the parachute to the top of the balloon with thin strings, just to keep the parachute in place. We set an alarm clock on the platform - in two or three minutes it will crackle.

Here the ropes are released. The pig balloon rose into the air. Everyone screamed, made a noise:

- Look, it's flying!

- The pig is gone!

- Oh, know Durov!

When the ball was already high, the alarm clock crackled. Piggy, accustomed to jumping on a call, rushed from the ball into the air. Everyone gasped: the pig flew down like a stone. But then the parachute opened, and Piggy, swaying smoothly, safely, like a real parachutist, descended to the ground.

After this first flight, the “parachutist” did many more air travels. We traveled all over Russia with her.

The flights were not without adventures.

In one city Piggy got on the roof of the gymnasium. The situation was not pleasant. Piggy squealed with all her might as her parachute caught on a drainpipe. The students left their books and rushed to the windows. Lessons were cancelled. There was no way to get Piggy. I had to call the fire brigade.

Elephant Baby

Dwarf

In the city of Hamburg there was a large zoological garden, which belonged to a well-known animal dealer. When I wanted to buy an elephant, I went to Hamburg. The owner showed me a little elephant and said:

- This is not an elephant, it is almost an adult elephant.

Why is he so small? I was surprised.

Because it's a dwarf elephant.

– Do they exist?

“As you can see,” the owner assured me.

I believed and bought an outlandish dwarf elephant. For his small stature, I gave the elephant the nickname Baby, which in English means "child."

It was brought in a box with a window. The tip of the trunk often protruded through the window.

When Baby arrived, they let him out of the box and put a bowl of rice porridge and a bucket of milk in front of him. The elephant patiently scooped up the rice with its trunk and put it into its mouth.

An elephant's trunk is like a person's hands: Baby took food with his trunk, felt objects with his trunk, caressed with his trunk.

Baby soon became attached to me and, caressing, ran his trunk over my eyelids. He did it very carefully, but still such elephant caresses hurt me.

Three months have passed.

My "dwarf" has grown a lot and put on weight. I began to suspect that in Hamburg they had deceived me and sold me not a dwarf elephant, but an ordinary six-month-old baby elephant. However, do dwarf elephants even exist in the world?

When my “dwarf” grew up, it became very funny to watch how this huge animal was naughty and frolicking like a child.

During the day, I took Baby to the empty circus arena, and I myself watched him from the box.

At first he stood in one place, spreading his ears, shaking his head and looking sideways. I shouted to him:

The baby elephant slowly moved around the arena, sniffing the ground with its trunk. Finding nothing but earth and sawdust, Baby began to play like children in the sand: he raked the earth into a heap with his trunk, then picked up part of the earth and showered it on his head and back. Then he shook himself and flapped his burdock ears hilariously.

But now, bending first the hind legs, and then the front legs, Baby lies on his stomach. Lying on his stomach, Baby blows into his mouth and again sprinkles himself with earth. He apparently enjoys the game: he slowly rolls over from side to side, carries his trunk around the arena, scatters the earth in all directions.

Having piled on plenty, Baby comes up to the bed where I am sitting and holds out his trunk for a treat.

I get up and pretend to leave. The elephant instantly changes mood. He is alarmed and runs after me. He doesn't want to be alone.

Baby could not stand being alone: he puffed up his ears and roared. An employee had to sleep with him in the elephant house, otherwise the elephant would not give anyone peace with its roar. Even in the daytime, remaining alone in the stall for a long time, at first he lazily played with his trunk with his chain, with which he was chained to the floor by his hind leg, and then he began to worry and make noise.

In the stalls near Baby stood a camel on one side and Oska the donkey on the other. This is in order to fence off the horses standing in the stable, who were afraid of the elephant, kicked and reared.

Baby is used to his neighbors. When during the performance it was necessary to take a donkey or a camel to the arena, the elephant roared and pulled the chain with all his might. He wanted to run after his friends.

He especially became friends with Oska. Baby often put his trunk through the partition and gently stroked the donkey on the neck and back.

Once Oska fell ill with an upset stomach, and he was not given the usual portion of oats. Dejectedly lowering his head, he, hungry, was bored in the stall. And nearby, Baby, having eaten his fill, had fun as best he could: he would put a tuft of hay in his mouth, then take it out, turn it in all directions. By chance, Babin's trunk with hay reached out to the donkey. Oska did not miss it: he grabbed the hay and began to chew. Baby liked it. He began to rake hay with his trunk and pass it through the partition to his donkey friend ...

Once I decided to weigh Baby. But where to get the right scales?

I had to take him to the station, where freight cars are weighed. The weigher looked curiously at the unusual load.

- How many? I asked.

- Nearly forty pounds! the weigher answered.

- This is an ordinary elephant! I said gloomily. - Farewell, miracle of nature - a small, dwarf elephant! ..

Baby is afraid of… brooms

The elephant is not only intelligent, but also a patient animal. See how torn the ears are on any circus elephant. Usually trainers, teaching an elephant to walk on “bottles”, or circle, or stand on its hind legs, or sit on a barrel, do not act with caress, but with pain. If the elephant does not obey, they tear his ears with a steel hook or stick an awl under the skin. And elephants endure everything. However, some elephants can not stand the torment. Once in Odessa, the huge old elephant Samson became furious and began to spread the menagerie. The servants could do nothing with him. Neither threats, nor beatings, nor treats helped. The elephant broke everything that came in his way. I had to dig it in and keep it in the pit for several days. In Odessa, there was only talk about Samson:

Did you hear that Samson escaped?

"But it's very dangerous!" What if he runs through the streets?

- We must kill him!

“To kill such a rare animal?!

But Samson did not want to return to the menagerie. Then they decided to poison him. They filled a large orange with strong poison and presented it to Samson. But Samson did not eat and did not even let the poisoners near him.

Then they offered those who wished to kill Samson with a gun.

There were amateurs who even paid for "shooting at the target." Having fired a mass of bullets, they finished off the giant.

And no one thought that if Samson had not been tortured in the menagerie, but had been treated kindly, then they would not have had to shoot at him.

When I teach animals, I try to act with affection, a tasty morsel, and not with beatings. That's how I taught Baby. Forcing him to do something, I caressed him, patted his chest and showed sugar. And Baby listened to me.

Once we arrived in Kharkov. The train with my animals was being unloaded at the freight station.

Baby appeared from the huge Pullman car. His leader Nikolai, while sweeping rubbish from under the elephant, accidentally touched Baby's leg with a broom. Baby turned angrily to the leader, spread his burdock ears - and did not move. Nikolay began to stroke Baby, slapped him on the stomach, scratched him behind his ear, put carrots in his mouth - nothing helped. Baby didn't move. Nicholas was out of patience. He remembered the old way of circus trainers and began to prick the elephant with a sharp awl and drag it by the ear with a steel hook. Baby roared in pain, shook his head, but did not move. There was blood on his ear. Eight servants with pitchforks and clubs came running to help Nicholas. They began to beat poor Baby, but the elephant only roared, shook his head, but did not move.

I was in the city at the time. I was tracked down by phone. I immediately ran to Baby's rescue - drove away all his tormentors and, left alone with the elephant, called out loudly and affectionately:

- Here, Baby, here, little one!

Hearing a familiar voice, Baby became alert, raised his head, put out his trunk and began to suck in air noisily. For a few seconds he stood motionless. Finally, the huge carcass stirred. Slowly, carefully, Baby began to get out of the car, trying with his trunk and foot the boards of the ladder: are they strong, will they withstand him.

When the elephant stepped onto the platform, the employees quickly closed the car door. I continued to affectionately call the stubborn. Baby quickly and resolutely approached me, grabbed my arm above the elbow with his trunk and slightly pulled me towards him. And now he felt an orange on his slippery tongue. Baby held the orange in his mouth, slightly protruded the "burdocks" and quietly, with a slight grunt, let the air out of his trunk.

Thus I achieved by kindness what nine men armed with pitchforks and clubs could not achieve.

We met adults and children along the way. They ran after the elephant. Many offered him apples, oranges, white bread, sweets. But Baby paid no attention to all these wonderful things; He followed me at a steady pace. And I brought him safely to the circus.

The first performance in Kharkov went perfectly well. But a day later, the second performance began. I stood in the middle of the arena. The audience was waiting for the release of their favorite elephant.

Just as I was about to shout: “Baby, here,” when suddenly an elephant’s head appeared from behind the curtains. I immediately understood: Baby is excited. His ears are splayed, and his trunk is twisted like a snail. He walked very fast, but not at all towards me. He didn't even notice me and went straight to the main exit.

Sensing something unkind, I rushed to Baby ... but it was not there. Paying no attention to me, he walked with the same wide, quick step into the lobby. Here he was met with rakes, pitchforks and barriers by employees and grooms of the circus. Blows rained down on the ill-fated elephant. The audience jumped up from their seats. A crowd formed at the exit doors. Someone was crushed. There was a commotion, a squabble.

I rushed to Baby. Together with the servants, we hung on it. But Baby firmly decided to leave the hated circus. He walked straight to the door. Afraid of being crushed, we bounced off the giant. He went outside. The servants ran after him.

I returned to the arena: I couldn't run down the street in a clown's outfit, with my face painted for the show. In addition, you need to reassure the audience. I raised my hand and said:

- Children, Baby's tummy hurts, and he himself went to the pharmacy for castor oil.

The audience laughed and returned to their seats. The children laughed and merrily repeated:

The elephant has a stomach ache!

- The elephant himself went to the pharmacy!

“He probably needs a bucket of castor oil!”

- Smart elephant!

"Just come back soon!"

I myself wanted the same. I was very worried about Baby. Where is he now? But I pulled myself together and continued the performance. I finished the act and left the arena in a trio of Ostyak dogs.

Finding myself backstage, I quickly changed my clothes, wiped the paint off my face, jumped out into the street and, in the first cab I came across, rushed off in pursuit of the fugitive.

Baby managed to alarm the whole city. Passers-by showed me the way. I rushed to the station. But then I met a circus employee. He jumped up to me in a cab and shouted:

- Do not worry! Baby is safe... He ran to the cargo platform... just where we were unloading.

How did he find his way? Who led him?

- Myself. I remember that...

- Driver, drive! I shouted.

And here we are at the station. Even from a distance I noticed Baby. He was standing on the same platform where he got out of the car. Around - a crowd of curious. I went. The crowd parted. I called:

- Baby, come here!

The elephant immediately raised its trunk, turned to me and roared joyfully.

The crowd trembled, respectfully making way for the elephant. Baby blew air through his trunk with a noise and, waving his ears, followed me.

Then I got all the details. Before the elephant entered the arena, Nikolai took a whisk and began sweeping manure under it. At first Baby did not notice the broom. But suddenly thin, bending rods inadvertently touched the elephant's legs. Baby shuddered, picked up his backside, tucked his short tail and ran into the arena.

From the circus he went straight to the station. He walked with a confident step through the streets and lanes, never losing his way.

At the gates of the goods yard, near the station, he paused for a moment in thought. Bolts and a lock blocked the way. But Baby didn't think long. The giant leaned slightly on the gate. A minute - and the lock, bolts, brackets and beams flew in different directions.

Baby walked around the long stone warehouses and headed for the familiar platform. He did not find the wagons: they were transferred to a siding. But Baby was not upset. He began to indifferently pick up rubbish, paper and straw left on the platform after unloading with his trunk.

Why was the huge elephant afraid of a harmless broom?

Circus performers at that time were distinguished by superstition. They were afraid if the piece of paper with the role fell on the floor: a bad omen - there would be no success. They did not allow the circus to be swept with a broom, saying: "This means sweeping the well-being out of the circus."

Vladimir Leonidovich Durov My animals - page №1/6

Vladimir Leonidovich Durov

My animals

Vladimir Leonidovich Durov 1

My animals 1

Abstract 1

V.L. Durov 2

My animals 2

Dear young readers! 3

OUR Bug 5

PIG - FUNTIFLUSHKA 7

PIG PARACHOUTER 10

ELEPHANT BABY 11

SEA LIONS LEO, PIZZI AND VASKA 20

KASHTANKA, BISHKA AND PYATAYKA 25

AT TOPTYGIN IN THE PAWS 27

BORKA AND SURK 29

JERZHI GLOVE AND REEL 31

MONKEY MIMUS 33

CROW ARTISTS 37

CRANES-DANCERS AND CHICKEN-SANDALS 41

annotation

The author of the book, the famous trainer Vladimir Leonidovich Durov (1863-1934), talks about his pupils - animals and birds. Being not only a professional trainer, but also a scientist, he carefully studied the habits of animals, their behavior and customs. His observations then formed the basis of an interesting science - zoopsychology.

In addition, Vladimir Durov was an unsurpassed satirical clown who ridiculed human vices from the stage of booths, circuses and theaters. At the same time, he proudly called himself "the king of jesters, but not the jester of kings." With the help of his animals, which Durov loved very much, he spoke "of the great human injustice." His amazing stories - both sad and funny - are in front of you.

V.L. Durov

My animals

“My whole life has passed side by side with animals. I shared grief and joy with them in half, and the affection of animals rewarded me for all human injustices ...

I saw how the rich suck all the juice out of the poor, how rich, strong people keep weaker and darker brothers in slavery and prevent them from realizing their rights and strength. And then I, with the help of my animals, in booths, circuses and theaters spoke about the great human injustice ... "

V. L. Durov (from memoirs)

Dear young readers!

There are many theaters in Moscow. But the most outlandish theater is, perhaps, the one located on Durova Street. Children from all over Moscow gather here every day. Many come even from other cities. After all, everyone wants to visit this extraordinary theater!

What is so amazing about it? There is a foyer, an auditorium, a stage, a curtain... Everything is as usual. But it is not people who perform here on the stage, but ... animals. This theater of animals was created by the Honored Artist of the RSFSR Vladimir Leonidovich Durov.

From the earliest years, when Volodya Durov was still a boy, he was drawn to animals and birds. As a child, he already fiddled with pigeons, dogs and other animals. He then already dreamed of a circus, because trained animals are shown in the circus.

When Volodya grew up a little, he ran away from home and entered the farce to the well-known circus performer Rinaldo in those years.

And so the young man Durov began to work in the circus. There he brought a goat Vasily Vasilyevich, a goose Socrates, a dog Bishka. He trained them, that is, he taught them to do different numbers in the arena.

Usually, trainers used the painful method: they tried to achieve obedience from the animal with a stick and beatings.

And Vladimir Durov refused this method of training. He was the first in the history of the circus to use a new method - the method of training not by beatings and a stick, but by affection, good treatment, delicacy, encouragement. He did not torture the animals, but patiently taught them to him. He loved animals, and animals became attached to him and obeyed him.

Soon the public fell in love with the young trainer. He achieved much more in his own way than the previous trainers. He came up with a lot of very interesting numbers.

Durov entered the arena in a bright, colorful clown costume.

Previously, before him, clowns worked in silence. They made the audience laugh by slapping each other, jumping and somersaulting.

Durov was the first of the clowns to speak from the arena. He scourged the royal orders, ridiculed merchants, officials and nobles. For this, the police pursued him. But Durov boldly continued his speeches. He proudly called himself "the people's jester."

The circus was always full when Durov performed with his animal troupe.

Children especially loved Durov.

VL Durov traveled all over Russia, performing in various circuses and booths.

But Durov was not only a trainer - he was also a scientist. He carefully studied the animals, their behavior, manners, habits. He was engaged in a science called zoopsychology, and even wrote a thick book about this, which the great Russian scientist, academician Ivan Petrovich Pavlov really liked.

Gradually, Durov acquired more and more new animals. Animal school grew.

“I wish we could build a special house for the animals! Durov dreamed. - It would be spacious and comfortable for them to live there. There one could calmly study animals, conduct scientific work, and teach animals to perform.”

V. L. Durov dreamed of an unprecedented and fantastic theater - the theater of animals, where, under the motto "amuse and teach", the child will be given the first unpretentious lessons in moral and aesthetic education.

Many years passed until Vladimir Leonidovich managed to fulfill his dream. He bought a large, beautiful mansion on one of the oldest and quietest streets in Moscow, called Bozhedomka. In this house, located among the greenery of gardens and alleys of the Catherine Park, he placed his four-legged artists and called this house "Durov's Corner".

In 1927, the Moscow City Council, in honor of the 50th anniversary of the artistic activity of V. L. Durov, renamed the street where the Corner was located into Durov Street.

In 1934 Vladimir Leonidovich died.

The theater of animals, created by grandfather Durov, as his little spectators called him, became more and more popular every year. The old hall no longer accommodated everyone who wanted to get to the performance, and often the strings of children standing at the ticket office left in tears without receiving a ticket.

Now "Corner" is expanded. Next to the old building, a new beautiful white-stone theater has grown - a whole town. In the "Corner" there is now an animal theater, a menagerie, and a museum.

In the museum, children can see stuffed animals with which Vladimir Leonidovich Durov worked. Here is the learned dachshund Zapyatayka, here is the sea lion Leo, here is the brown bear Toptygin... The famous Durov railway has also been preserved.

Animals live in the menagerie, which are now performing in the theater.

Let's imagine that we want to look at the local amazing residents. To do this, you do not need to raise the roof or look into windows and doors. Here everyone has their own apartment, and a neighbor can exchange glances with a neighbor. Semicircular enclosures, and in them unusual "artists" - inhabitants of all parts of the world.

There are many animals in the zoo. There is a white hare, and a talking gray crow, and a bright red-blue parrot, and a mathematician dog, and a sea lion, and a tiger, and pelicans, and many, many other animals and birds.

Book exhibitions are often held in the bright foyer of the theatre. Writers, artists, composers meet here with their little readers, viewers, listeners. Here are the conversations of the guys with scientists, trainers.

After the death of Vladimir Leonidovich Durov, he was replaced by a new generation of Durovs, who continued the work of the famous trainer.

For many years, Anna Vladimirovna Durova-Sadovskaya, Honored Art Worker of the RSFSR, artistic director of the theater, worked at Ugolok.

Here, People's Artist of the USSR Yuri Vladimirovich Durov began his career in art. And finally my turn came. Grandmother, holding my hand, led me to the Corner. And since then I have not parted with my favorite theater.

I grew up, one might say, among animals and saw how my father affectionately and patiently trained them. I also learned to understand the habits of animals and treat them carefully.

I always remembered the words of my father and grandfather that you first need to know the animal, all its features and habits, and only after that you can teach it some number.

In my work, I do not deviate from the Durovsky method of training, which excludes the slightest pain effect. Only by patience, kindness and affection, painstaking work and knowledge of zoo-reflexology, can one achieve that the pony gives the public his charming smile, and the donkey sincerely laughs at the sloven, for whom the raccoon will immediately wash his handkerchief ...

And so the number follows the number. Here is a white hare knocking out several beats of a march on the drum. The gray crow shouts importantly to her friend: "Come on, come on," - he competes with the talent of a commentator with the Ara parrot. The sea lion is juggling. A fox and a rooster peacefully eat from the same feeder. A wolf and a goat are circling in an amazing waltz, and a hardworking bear is sweeping the territory ...

All these miracles taking place on the stage are based on the mutual trust of man and animal.

I would like to preface these words to my grandfather Vladimir Leonidovich Durov's book My Animals, which you, my young friends, are now holding in your hands and which was first published about seventy years ago.

N. Yu. Durova,

People's Artist of the USSR and Russia, writer, laureate of the State Prize of the USSR, chief director and artistic director of the Theater "Grandfather Durov's Corner".

OUR Bug

When I was little, I studied at a military gymnasium. There, in addition to all kinds of sciences, they also taught us to shoot, march, salute, take guard - it's the same as a soldier. We had our own dog Bug. We loved her very much, played with her and fed her with the remnants of the state dinner.

We need to teach him a lesson, - the guys said.

Here's what you need to do... you need to kill his Beetle!

Right! Drown!

Where to drown? Better to kill with a stone!

No, better hang!

Right! Hang up! Hang up!

The "court" deliberated for a short time. The verdict was adopted unanimously: the death penalty by hanging.

Wait, who's going to hang?

Everyone was silent. Nobody wanted to be an executioner.

Let's draw lots! someone suggested.

Let's!

Look smooth! And our whole side is shabby.