Authors: Gerelchimeg Blackcrane
9
THE THREE GERMAN SHEPHERDS AT THE DEPARTMENT STORE
AS KELSANG WAS
led into the yard behind the department store, he was greeted by three of the finest German shepherds he had ever seen. Their glossy brown coats and the chiseled outlines of their hind legs were the outcome of years of selective breeding and had won them prizes, but more important, they were great runners. They were purebreds. For the first time, Kelsang wasn't the superior dog, even though he was from the grasslands and had killed wolves.
The three German shepherds were locked up in a pen. After casting a glance at the intruder, they started barking in a way that only well-fed dogs can. Kelsang managed to take a look at them before being led into another pen.
The first was a powerful male whose long fur nearly covered his eyes. He leapt at the wire mesh, barking furiously and revealing a row of somewhat damaged teeth in a mouth full of foaming spittle. No doubt he would try to shred Kelsang to pieces if he was let free. Kelsang was surprised to see how strong he was. He was even bigger than the biggest wolf he had ever seen. This was Zorro. The other smaller, rather immature male was Kaisa. He struggled to control his excitement, twirling like a spinning top after every few barks. The almost coal-black female, Susu, wasn't exactly barking but was attempting to chime in an accompaniment. She was fascinated by the silent Tibetan mastiff.
Kelsang saw that Zorro was the only worthy opponent among them. He had been honing this skill. Every time he arrived in a new place he would quickly assess who were his potential enemies.
That evening, when the security guards came to feed the three German shepherds, they made the fundamental error of opening both pens at the same time. They went to Kelsang's pen first, and he stepped out, curious to get to know the strange yard. But a few moments later, they opened the other pen, and without any warning, Zorro ran out and charged at Kelsang.
Kelsang was prepared, however. He may not have been expecting it at that very moment, but he had realized that it was going to happen sooner or later. He was ready, and fearless.
The fight turned out to be surprisingly simple. As Zorro leapt at him, baring his teeth, Kelsang darted to one side. He was in no hurry. In fact, he wanted to get a better sense of his opponent's strength. Zorro slid past, so Kelsang bit at his unprotected back, but Zorro was sensitive and turned half around to block Kelsang's sharp teeth with his head. All Kelsang could do was bite his shabby ear.
Once more they engaged in battle.
The two security guards stood aside, watching and shouting, the dog food sprinkled all around them on the ground. When the dogs broke apart again, the two men crept between them, their electric batons held high. The ends of the batons crackled and spat sparks, and a stench worse than burnt skin wafted toward Kelsang's nose. He had no plans to attack again. He had already sussed out Zorro's strength. And even though it was the first time he had seen an electric baton, he had a pretty good idea of its strength, too. It gave off the smell of something that had been set alight. The fact that man could create fire on the end of a stick was proof enough for him. There was no way he could fight such a weapon.
But Zorro was fuming at having his status challenged in this unprecedented manner. As he prepared to launch himself at Kelsang again, one of the electric batons came down on his neck. Letting out a howl of pain that seemed to rise from deep within him, his ferocity melted away, and he went scuttling back to his pen.
Kelsang was happy with his choice. The guards' weapons were extremely powerful, and while they might not be able to kill in an instant like a gun, they seemed to be able to sap an animal of its strength. That was all he needed to know.
Kelsang was kept alone in his pen. Every evening he watched as the three German shepherds were led toward the door of the huge building on the other side of the yard. In actual fact, it would be better to say that the dogs led the guards, so excited were they to get in. Kelsang couldn't figure out what could be so exciting.
A week later, there was another major theft at the department store, and Kelsang was chosen to replace the three German shepherds. Why should Kelsang take over from three superbly trained guard dogs? The reason was simple. He had received no training, and this was a major advantage.
The evening the man entered the store, he had been set upon by the three enormous German shepherds. They were too well trained to bark. As they sped toward him and prepared to leap, he held up his right hand. He was wearing a police uniform, and his command, one used in all police dog competitions, was clear and calm â“Stay!” It was just as he hoped. They could be easily controlled.
A police uniform, a flawless command and a perfect hand gesture. German shepherds trained by the police are very familiar with these things. They are branded in their memories through hours of training. Dogs that have retired from service cherish the memories of their days in the force. They are still working dogs and always will be.
The man's actions opened a connection in the dogs' brains to this part of their memory. Suddenly they were back with the policemen, part of the action. They stood still, and then as if under the spell of his hand, crouched down. They knew they had to do it quickly and expertly in order to receive praise from their master, which was probably only going to be an encouraging pat on the neck. But to a police dog, this was an incomparable honor.
The moment a police dog starts its training, it learns one principle that it never forgets â your master's command is everything. This becomes a conditioned reflex. And so it was that the three dogs came to obey this man so willingly. He was giving commands in a way that they hadn't experienced for a long time. It all came back to them so naturally. The three dogs lay there, not a hair out of place, their heart-shaped ears sticking up like shoots of bamboo, their eyes glistening. This is the first posture any police dog learns to perfect. Waiting, being prepared for the next move.
With everything under control, the man smiled at the dogs as they waited eagerly for praise. He wasn't going to disappoint them. He went to each in turn and patted them on the neck, receiving three grateful whimpers in return. Of course, he wasn't really there for the three docile dogs. His real goal was the watch counter.
The dogs remained loyal to his command as he broke open the lock. Dogs are only able to serve humans according to their instincts, and comprehensive training teaches them to do what they believe is correct without questioning it. They don't spend time thinking about whether what they are doing is logical or not. They are already convinced that the command itself doesn't matter. As long as it is given in the right way, it is always right to obey it.
Two hours later, a drowsy security guard made his rounds. To his surprise, he found the three dogs crouching beside the watch counter, as still as statues. Only then did he notice that the lock had been forced open and that all the most expensive watches were missing.
“My God!” the guard shouted. But still the dogs didn't react.
The first thought that came to the guard's mind was that he'd surely lose his job. Only after that did he realize that he should tell the dogs to move. They responded like well-oiled machines, staggering slightly after crouching in the same position for so long. They lined up beside him waiting for instructions.
“What a mess! A mess, a mess! The thief stole the stuff right under their noses!”
Without further ado, the dogs were stripped of their duties, locked in their pen and replaced by Kelsang. The guards led him into the department store through the back door. The interior was huge, and to Kelsang, who had been locked up in a small pen for over a week, it felt as big as a sports stadium. Suddenly he understood why the German shepherds had been so excited every evening.
After they untied his leash, Kelsang sensed that the guards were watching him with suspicion. He trotted off to inspect the four-story store. The floors were spotless, the counters shiny clean, as if straight from a dream. The only thing that made him uncomfortable was that his breathing felt strange. He was still getting used to air- conditioning.
In the food section on the ground floor, Kelsang spotted a caged pheasant, which made him very excited. The bird shook with fear, leaping up and trying to fly around its small cage, scattering feathers all over as the giant dog approached.
Kelsang edged closer.
“Don't touch it!” The guard had been following him the whole time.
Kelsang turned to look at him, and the sparkle in his eyes vanished. He lay down beside a large, refreshing refrigerated section. It reminded him of the Tibetan grasslands. He ignored the men in uniforms gathering around him.
“He's pretty lazy. He doesn't seem to want to move.”
“In that case, he's no use to us. Purebred German shepherds couldn't do the job, and now it looks like he can't, either. But he is kind of cruel looking. Maybe that'll be enough to scare the thieves away.”
“Didn't the boss say the only reason the thief got the better of those dogs was because they were so well trained? That's why he brought us this one. No, wait. He kept stressing that it was a mastiff. It won't follow any old stranger's command. It's a guard dog. It doesn't need training to attack intruders.”
The guards looked at Kelsang and felt their throats growing tight. They each went to a different part of the store to do their inspections.
Life had taken an unusually tranquil turn for Kelsang. Every evening, after the sun went down and he had been fed, a guard would lead him into the store and undo his chains. He was then free to do as he pleased. Within the first few days, he had familiarized himself with every corner of the store, and now, most evenings, he made straight for the refrigerated counters where he lay down to sleep. The cool air was comforting.
With Kelsang on guard, nothing went missing in the store. The security guards were still unsure whether this detached, unapproachable dog was really qualified for the job, but as long as nothing disappeared, that was the most important thing.
Kelsang barely saw the other three dogs now as he spent most of his days curled up asleep in his pen. He knew that Zorro was watching his every move, but he didn't want to get into a fight. This wasn't the time. Besides, the guards weren't going to let it happen. Every morning, as he was led back into his pen, and every evening, as he was led out to the store, his chains were on.
But eventually, opportunities always present themselves.
One morning, as Kelsang was being led from the back door of the store into the compound, something distracted the guard, and he merely slipped Kelsang's chains over the open gate of his pen before running off.
Kelsang never would have guessed that the day of reckoning would come so soon. He watched coldly as Zorro, who was in the yard, stalked toward him. Then he shook his head so that the chains fell to the ground, no longer restricting his movements.
The chains were still heavy around his neck, but they didn't slow him in any way. After the year of being tied up on the mountainside by the man with the dark cheeks, he had grown accustomed to them and had built up strong neck muscles.
After a few brief rounds, Zorro realized that he was just being played with. No matter how much he pounced and bit, he couldn't hurt the burly black dog. He became angrier with each attack, not once able to get the upper hand.
Kelsang was like a ghost. Each time he slipped out of Zorro's reach, he would manage to twist around and tug playfully on a clump of his fur.
The first time Kelsang fought with Zorro, he hadn't been sure how to fight a dog of his own caliber. He paused and faltered. Yet he now realized that if he wanted to, he could finish off Zorro without any problems.
Maybe it was because he found his store job so depressing, or more likely, he was just realizing, it was because he wanted to show off in front of Susu, but he was in no hurry to put Zorro out of his misery. So confident that he could win whenever he wanted, he chased the panting German shepherd around in circles.
Once Zorro realized that he was a mouse being chased by a cat, all he wanted was for it to end. Despite his furious barking and continuous leaping, he was clearly getting weaker. He was going mad. There was no way he could grab hold of this shadow of a dog flitting in front of him.
Kelsang, meanwhile, was more concerned with making his movements elegant and beautiful to look at, because even though he hadn't looked around to check, he knew that Susu's gaze was fixed on him.
Finally, an exhausted Zorro made one last push, lost his balance and fell to the ground. Kelsang seemed to float down on top of him, his chains trailing behind. He placed one paw on Zorro's chest, and in a flash as quick as lightning, sank his teeth into the exhausted dog.
If one of the guards hadn't rushed over just in time, Zorro would probably have died out there on the concrete yard. The man's shouts brought Kelsang to his senses, and he held back, just nicking the skin on Zorro's neck.
“Mr. Yang was right. He can't be left with the other dogs. There's no dog that could beat him,” the guard said.
“I only left him for a minute! At least it looks like he showed Zorro some mercy.”
“Sometimes he won't let me close when I'm feeding him, but still he's not like the other dogs â always barking. He just narrows his eyes and growls. It's terrifying. Step back.”
“Don't you have your baton?”
“Are you brave enough to use a baton on him? I'm not.”
“Me, neither,” the other guard admitted.
Kelsang had already slunk back into his pen, dragging his chains behind him. Their clanking reminded him of his life out in the open with Han Ma.
And so it was that without much effort, Kelsang became the leader. Not that he cared much. More important to him was that he now had his sights set on Susu, the beautiful inky black German shepherd, even if he could only catch a glimpse of her as he went out to the store in the evening or when he came back early in the morning. Once back in his pen, all he did was sleep.