liver and veal first, then moving on to the main dish before toothily devouring the bigger chunks of chopped-up blood sausage. Finally his pink tongue circled the dog bowl to get the very last bits and then, licking his chops, he looked up at Mira.
“Ready to go, habibi?” She smiled at him. “Come on!”
Out on the street, Rolf immediately began straining at the leash. His tummy was full and he was keen for his morning walk. And for once they had perfect timing. The bus was waiting for them at the corner.
Mira took Rolf in her arms and jumped on board. They sat like that, her cradling the dog in a seat near the front. It wasn’t a long ride. Only three stops from the shops to reach the gates that led into the forest of the Grunewald.
A paved avenue swept from the street into the car park, and from there the path turned to sandy loam and began forking off in all directions through the conifers and the birch trees. Today they were taking their usual route, which led all the way to the Grunewaldsee lake. It was going to get hot and Rolf might fancy a dip.
Once they were on the sand paths, Mira bent down and unclipped Rolf’s leash to let him loose. As soon as he was free, Rolf shot off, sprinting away and then scampering in a ragged half-circle before running straight back towards her, his little legs churning like mad, his pink tongue lolling out to one side. Mira laughed at him. It was always the same, this moment of over-excitement. Soon he’d calm down and trot along with her companionably. But first he needed to burn off some energy.
Mira watched the little dog as he bolted ahead of her to do his second sprint-and-circle-back, running at breakneck speed round the curve of the path until he was out of sight. She strode on briskly after him, expecting that when she turned the corner she would see Rolf there, panting and exhausted, heading back towards her on the path ahead. But when she came round the corner, there was nothing. The wide path that cut through the forest was empty. Rolf was nowhere to be seen.
“Rolf!” Mira called out. “Rolfie?”
She whistled for him. And then, with more urgency in her voice, she called again, “Rolf!”
The sound of yelping broke the silence of the forest. Rolf! His bark was echoing through the trees to the east of the path and he was going bonkers! Had he caught scent of something? A squirrel, perhaps? Rolf lost all common sense when he was confronted with a whiff of prey. And these woods were big. If he got away from her, it would be all too easy to lose a little dog like him!
Mira began dashing through the trees, following the dachshund’s caterwaul. Rolf’s barking had now become one long, persistent hunting yowl, which meant he must have that squirrel trapped up a tree. Were squirrels fierce? What if Rolf got into a fight with it and it bit him? Frau Schmidt would blame Mira if the little dog should come to any harm.
Mira’s heart was pounding as she came into a clearing in the woods and saw Rolf. He was pronging up and down furiously on the spot, all stiff-legged and wild-eyed as he bailed up his prey. Her relief at finding the dachshund was immediately replaced by shock at the size of his adversary. Because it wasn’t a squirrel that Rolf held captive at all.
It was a horse.
The miniscule dog stood bristling and barking furiously, while right in front of him a white stallion, barricaded in by the pedestrian turnstiles and rails of the rustic fence that ran beside the forest path, was stamping and fretting, turning back and forth in his futile attempts to evade his tiny foe.
Their eyes were locked on each other in the same way that a matador engages a bull in battle. This fight, however, seemed to be rather more one-sided. The horse had to weigh at least six hundred kilos more than Rolf, and he towered over the dog as he manoeuvred back and forth in front of him. Despite the difference in size, the stallion seemed genuinely scared of the dachshund. Mira could see the fear in him, the way his dark eyes turned wide and his nostrils flared and snorted with each tempestuous breath.
With his neck arched and tail held high he was so beautiful he appeared almost otherworldly. At first sight he had struck Mira as alabaster white, but now she saw the faintest bloom of dark dapples on his rump, and the darkness of his mane and tail, which were burnished steel.
The stallion kept trying to outmanoeuvre the dog, pivoting on his hocks, turning and trotting back and forth, and then reversing abruptly, trying to double-back and duck past. It seemed ridiculous that he could be kept prisoner by Rolf. And yet here they were, locked in an impasse.
Rolf, for his part, had failed to notice that the horse was a hundred times his size. Determined to hold his prey, he kept blocking the horse at every turn and making little darting leaps, threatening to bite if the stallion stepped out of line. If the horse stepped too far forward, Rolf would snarl and lunge to push him back. And whenever the stallion tried to go sideways and break into his magnificent floating trot, Rolf would sprint forward and dash to head him off, forcing the horse to skid on his hocks to a stop, pinning him to the fence once more.
Mira watched as the little dog lunged and snapped, and this time the horse got fed up with this game of cat and mouse with his captor and fought back. The stallion lunged right at Rolf! He had his ears flattened back against his head, teeth bared, neck winding and twisting like an angry snake. He struck out and got so close to biting the dog that Rolf retreated for a split second. But then the fearless dachshund redoubled his efforts, barking and snapping. This war between them was escalating! Mira watched as the stallion went back on its haunches, striking out with a front hoof that narrowly missed cracking Rolf on the skull!
“Rolf! No! Get back!”
Rolf was oblivious to how much danger he was in, but Mira could see that one blow of those hooves could bring about his death.
As the horse rose up to strike out again, Mira found herself running forward to grab the dachshund. But Rolf didn’t want to be saved. He swerved away from Mira, evading her grasp, and she had no choice but to throw her body down on the dirt to get a hold of him.
“Rolf!” Rolling in the dust, Mira clung to his collar and pulled him roughly to her. “You must stop this! He will kill you!”
The horse was now directly above Mira and Rolf. With a startled snort, he went up on his hind legs, striking out violently with both front hooves. Mira let out a shriek and shut her eyes, certain the horse was about to come down on top of them and trample them. But somehow the stallion planted his hooves on either side of her and then he went up again and this time he spun on his hocks, turning away to face the fence that had him trapped.
There was no space to jump but the stallion was undeterred. From a standstill, he gathered himself, rocking back on his hindquarters, and then he popped in one tight stride and stag-leapt, effortlessly clearing the rustic rail with daylight to spare.
Mira couldn’t believe it. The horse hadn’t even needed a run-up. He had just launched himself into the air, as if he had springs beneath his hooves! And the way he landed on the other side was as graceful as a cat. As soon as he touched the earth, he sprang away at a gallop and, with a defiant shake of his mane, he set off towards the other side of the woods, weaving between the birches and conifers so that he became a grey blur between the trees.
Rolf was beside himself: his quarry was getting away! He began baying again and, in a last-ditch effort, he managed to squirm and rip himself free from Mira’s hands.
“Rolf! No!”
This time the dachshund only managed a few short strides before the leather went taut at his throat. Mira, anticipating that he would try to escape again, had already clipped the leash to his
