Kashtanka Page #2

"Kashtanka" is a short story by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov that follows the life of a stray dog named Kashtanka. After getting lost from her owner, she encounters a kind-hearted circus performer who takes her in. The story captures the themes of loyalty, survival, and the bond between humans and animals as Kashtanka adapts to her new life while reflecting on her past. Through her experiences, Chekhov explores the complexities of love and belonging, highlighting the emotional depth of both the dog and the people she interacts with. The narrative is rich with Chekhov's signature observational humor and poignant insight into the human condition.

								


"Your masters don't feed you properly," said the stranger, seeing with
what ferocious greediness she swallowed the morsels without munching
them. "And how thin you are! Nothing but skin and bones. . . ."

Kashtanka ate a great deal and yet did not satisfy her hunger, but was
simply stupefied with eating. After dinner she lay down in the middle of
the room, stretched her legs and, conscious of an agreeable weariness
all over her body, wagged her tail. While her new master, lounging in an
easy-chair, smoked a cigar, she wagged her tail and considered the
question, whether it was better at the stranger's or at the carpenter's.
The stranger's surroundings were poor and ugly; besides the easy-chairs,
the sofa, the lamps and the rugs, there was nothing, and the room seemed
empty. At the carpenter's the whole place was stuffed full of things: he
had a table, a bench, a heap of shavings, planes, chisels, saws, a cage
with a goldfinch, a basin. . . . The stranger's room smelt of nothing,
while there was always a thick fog in the carpenter's room, and a
glorious smell of glue, varnish, and shavings. On the other hand, the
stranger had one great superiority--he gave her a great deal to eat and,
to do him full justice, when Kashtanka sat facing the table and looking
wistfully at him, he did not once hit or kick her, and did not once
shout: "Go away, damned brute!"

When he had finished his cigar her new master went out, and a minute
later came back holding a little mattress in his hands.

"Hey, you dog, come here!" he said, laying the mattress in the corner
near the dog. "Lie down here, go to sleep!"

Then he put out the lamp and went away. Kashtanka lay down on the
mattress and shut her eyes; the sound of a bark rose from the street,
and she would have liked to answer it, but all at once she was overcome
with unexpected melancholy. She thought of Luka Alexandritch, of his son
Fedyushka, and her snug little place under the bench. . . . She
remembered on the long winter evenings, when the carpenter was planing
or reading the paper aloud, Fedyushka usually played with her. . . . He
used to pull her from under the bench by her hind legs, and play such
tricks with her, that she saw green before her eyes, and ached in every
joint. He would make her walk on her hind legs, use her as a bell, that
is, shake her violently by the tail so that she squealed and barked, and
give her tobacco to sniff . . . . The following trick was particularly
agonising: Fedyushka would tie a piece of meat to a thread and give it
to Kashtanka, and then, when she had swallowed it he would, with a loud
laugh, pull it back again from her stomach, and the more lurid were her
memories the more loudly and miserably Kashtanka whined.

But soon exhaustion and warmth prevailed over melancholy. She began to
fall asleep. Dogs ran by in her imagination: among them a shaggy old
poodle, whom she had seen that day in the street with a white patch on
his eye and tufts of wool by his nose. Fedyushka ran after the poodle
with a chisel in his hand, then all at once he too was covered with
shaggy wool, and began merrily barking beside Kashtanka. Kashtanka and
he goodnaturedly sniffed each other's noses and merrily ran down the
street. . . . III

|New and Very Agreeable Acquaintances

When Kashtanka woke up it was already light, and a sound rose from the
street, such as only comes in the day-time. There was not a soul in the
room. Kashtanka stretched, yawned and, cross and ill-humoured, walked
about the room. She sniffed the corners and the furniture, looked into
the passage and found nothing of interest there. Besides the door that
led into the passage there was another door. After thinking a little
Kashtanka scratched on it with both paws, opened it, and went into the
adjoining room. Here on the bed, covered with a rug, a customer, in whom
she recognised the stranger of yesterday, lay asleep.

"Rrrrr . . ." she growled, but recollecting yesterday's dinner, wagged
her tail, and began sniffing.

She sniffed the stranger's clothes and boots and thought they smelt of
horses. In the bedroom was another door, also closed. Kashtanka
scratched at the door, leaned her chest against it, opened it, and was
instantly aware of a strange and very suspicious smell. Foreseeing an
unpleasant encounter, growling and looking about her, Kashtanka walked
into a little room with a dirty wall-paper and drew back in alarm. She
saw something surprising and terrible. A grey gander came straight
towards her, hissing, with its neck bowed down to the floor and its
wings outspread. Not far from him, on a little mattress, lay a white
tom-cat; seeing Kashtanka, he jumped up, arched his back, wagged his
tail with his hair standing on end and he, too, hissed at her. The dog
was frightened in earnest, but not caring to betray her alarm, began
barking loudly and dashed at the cat . . . . The cat arched his back
more than ever, mewed and gave Kashtanka a smack on the head with his
paw. Kashtanka jumped back, squatted on all four paws, and craning her
nose towards the cat, went off into loud, shrill barks; meanwhile the
gander came up behind and gave her a painful peck in the back. Kashtanka
leapt up and dashed at the gander.

"What's this?" They heard a loud angry voice, and the stranger came into
the room in his dressing-gown, with a cigar between his teeth. "What's
the meaning of this? To your places!"

He went up to the cat, flicked him on his arched back, and said:

"Fyodor Timofeyitch, what's the meaning of this? Have you got up a
fight? Ah, you old rascal! Lie down!"

And turning to the gander he shouted: "Ivan Ivanitch, go home!"

The cat obediently lay down on his mattress and closed his eyes. Judging
from the expression of his face and whiskers, he was displeased with
himself for having lost his temper and got into a fight.

Kashtanka began whining resentfully, while the gander craned his neck
and began saying something rapidly, excitedly, distinctly, but quite
unintelligibly.

"All right, all right," said his master, yawning. "You must live in
peace and friendship." He stroked Kashtanka and went on: "And you,
redhair, don't be frightened. . . . They are capital company, they won't
annoy you. Stay, what are we to call you? You can't go on without a
name, my dear."

The stranger thought a moment and said: "I tell you what . . . you shall
be Auntie. . . . Do you understand? Auntie!"

And repeating the word "Auntie" several times he went out. Kashtanka sat
down and began watching. The cat sat motionless on his little mattress,
and pretended to be asleep. The gander, craning his neck and stamping,
went on talking rapidly and excitedly about something. Apparently it was
a very clever gander; after every long tirade, he always stepped back
with an air of wonder and made a show of being highly delighted with his
								Rate this book:0.0 / 0 votes