d, but it had all been rapped out clearly and carefully, without
a single correction. Later I said: "Lola, do you like being with me?"
"Yes." "Why?" "ich gut ura?" Now this was quite incomprehensible, so I
said: "What do dogs feel when they look at the eyes and see the sorrows
of people?" "No." "Yes, tell me?" Then with hesitation: "libe...."
(Liebe = love) and to this day I feel touched at these answers. How
often in trouble and in sorrow have we not found relief in a dog's
sympathy, and been glad to call it a friend in our sufferings? How
often has not a dog's eye filled with understanding when its master has
sat alone and lost in grief--coming, perhaps, and gently laying its
head upon his knees--fixing its faithful gaze on him until at length he
might be moved to smile, feeling that--after all--he was not alone?
Dogs! may this not be your true vocation? Indeed, this thought
possessed me for a long time. This sensitive aspect had not been so
apparent to me until now ... I had been so keen on the objective tests
and on all that they meant--and now I was almost ready to reproach
myself, for had I not centred my love and intelligence on science
alone: and only in a secondary sense upon the dog?...
16 December, 1916. On this date I returned to the subject, and said to
Lola: "Why do dogs go to people when they see them in sorrow--what is
it they then want?" "tresten" (troesten = to console).
"Tell me, Lola, of all the people you know, who has the most sorrows?"
"herni ..." But she hesitated, and then turned the "r" into an "n," so
that I saw she meant me (Henny)--and yet the spelling had been done
with some uncertainty, so I said: "I thought you would have named
someone else, whom all dogs love--do you know who I mean?" "Yes."
"Did you mean my friend?" "No." "Who then?" "her zigler!" (Herr Dr.
Ziegler) "Then why did you tell a story just now? Did you think I
should be pleased to think you meant me?..."
Later in the afternoon Lola was in a state of great depression; "What
is the matter?" I asked. "er in or ist aus!" I questioned her more
closely, so as to get at the meaning of this enigmatical remark: "What
'in ear'?" (or being meant for Ohr = ear). She replied: "eid zu sagen"
( = oath to tell--or to say) adding "ich auch aus" ... ( = I also done
for). She looked absolutely miserable, and dropped down in a limp heap
between rapping out each word, as though bereft of all will-power. I
was beginning to feel quite distr
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