Chapter 73 A Dog's Study (2)

The general progress of the dog species through all ages is often heard to be praised, and presumably this refers chiefly to the progress of science.There is no doubt that science is striding forward inexorably, it is even striding forward faster and faster, but what is there to praise?It's like a dog getting older with the years, and therefore dying faster and faster, and yet everyone praises him.It's a natural process, and an abominable one, which I find nothing to praise.All I see is decline, but I don't think the previous generations were better in nature, they were just younger and that was their huge advantage, their memory wasn't as overburdened as it is today, and it was easier to get them to talk , although no one has succeeded, but this possibility is relatively large, and this relatively large possibility is what excites us when we listen to those old and simple stories.Sometimes we almost jump to our feet at a suggestive word, and we don't seem to feel the weight of centuries upon us.No, however much I may accuse my age, earlier generations were inferior to later ones, in a sense far worse and weaker.Of course, miracles at that time were not easy to catch in the alleys, but the dogs at that time were not as servile as they are today-I can’t express it in other words, the organization of dogs is relatively loose, the true sentence At that time, it was still possible to exert influence, to decide, to change, to modify that building according to various wishes, and even to change it beyond recognition. That sentence really existed, at least very close, just hanging on the tip of the tongue, anyone can hear it.Where did it go today, even if you can search all the internal organs today, you can't find it.Our generation is probably hopeless, but this generation is more innocent than that one.I can understand the indecision of my generation. It is no longer indecision at all. It is about forgetting the dream that was dreamed a thousand nights ago and has been forgotten a thousand times. Who is willing to forget for the thousandth time? mad at us?I think I also understand the indecision of the ancestors, and we may only be able to do so.I almost want to say: how lucky we are that it is not we who have to bear this guilt upon our heads, and that we can only maintain an almost guiltless silence in a world that has been darkened by other dogs, come on step towards death.When our ancestors lost their way, they probably didn't think it was an endless error. They really saw the crossroads. It was simple. They could return at any time. If they hesitated , it’s just because they still want to live this kind of happy dog ​​life for a while. It will be different in a while, so they continue to lose their way.They don't know what we can expect when we observe the course of history, that hearts change before lives change, and that their dog hearts must be quite old when the life of such a dog begins to delight them, And they were not at all nearer to the point of departure than they felt, or so near as their eyes, drunk with all the dog's joy, told them.Who can talk about youth today.They were real young dogs back then, but their only ambition was to become old dogs, and they certainly could not fail in that, as all posterity testifies, and ours, the last generation, proves most it is good.

Of course I didn't talk about all this with my neighbor, but whenever I sat across from his typical old dog, or dug my mouth into his fur that already had a hint of skinned smell , I often think of them involuntarily.There's no point in talking to him about these things, and there's no point in talking to any dog.I know what it's like to talk about it.Probably he raised a few small objections from time to time, and finally agreed--approval is the best weapon, and the matter is buried, why bother it to come out of the grave?Still, I presumably have some kind of agreement with this neighbor, a deeper one that goes beyond empty words.I can't give up on this belief, though I can't prove it, though I could be completely wrong, because he's the only dog ​​I've had a relationship with in a long time, and I have to keep him. "You're probably my kind in your own way? Are you ashamed of failing at everything? I'm in exactly the same situation as you. If it were me, I'd be wailing over it, come on, two dogs We'll be sweeter together." Sometimes I think that while staring at him.He didn't lower his gaze, but nothing could be seen from it.He stared at me blankly, wondering why I was silent, why I interrupted our conversation.But maybe that look was just his way of asking questions, I failed him as much as he failed me.If I were young, if I felt that there was no more important question than this, if I was not self-satisfied, I might ask him aloud, and I might get a feeble approval, it would not be as good as his silence today.But not all dogs are so silent, right?I should like to think of all dogs as my own kind; I should like to think that there is not only an occasional researcher of the same kind, even if he has sunk in the ocean of oblivion with his trivial achievements, I will anyway. Can't find him through the gloom of ages or the crowdedness of the present; ways of silently or slyly chattering, like the results of this hopeless research itself; what prevents me from thinking so?Then I wouldn't have to live alone at all, I could be in peace with the other dogs and not have to push my way through a line of grown dogs like a naughty kid, they figured it out just as much as I did, and they had the same thing about them. What puzzled me was their rationality, which told them that no one could get out, and no matter how crowded they were, it was stupid.

But this kind of thinking is obviously influenced by my neighbor, who makes me confused and depressed, which is enough for him to be happy. At least I heard him growling and singing when he returned to his place, which really makes me happy. Hate.Perhaps it would be best to forego even this last association, to give up my muddled whims, and to devote the little time I have to my research.Any association between dogs will inevitably induce you to fantasies, even if you think you have been honed for a long time.If he comes again next time, I will hide in the nest and pretend to sleep, come and hide again and again until he doesn't come.

My research has also fallen into chaos. I am slack and tired. Where I used to be able to run with joyful strides, now I can only move slowly and mechanically.I was thinking back to when I first started investigating the question of "where does the land get our food?" Of course I was living among the people, and where the dogs were most crowded, I wanted all the dogs to be like me. The testimony of this work, I even think this kind of testimony is more important than my work.As I was still expecting to have some general effect, I was naturally stimulated so much that I can no longer find it now in my solitude.I was so strong then, that what I did always violated all our principles was so unheard of that all witnesses of that time must today regard it as a terrible memory.In a science that is tending towards infinite divisions, I have found a strange simplification in one respect.It says that their food comes mainly from the land.Having made this assumption, it then shows how to make a variety of high-quality, hearty foods.It is certainly true that food comes from the land, no doubt about it, but not so simple as to be described in general without any further study.Take the simplest things that are repeated every day.If we don't do anything, which is pretty much what I'm doing now, if we mess with the land and curl up and wait for something to come, if anything comes of it in the end, then of course we'll get food from the ground.But this is not the norm.With a little courage in the face of science—of course, there are not many such dogs, because the circles drawn by science are getting bigger and bigger—it is easy to see that even if it is not for special observation at all, the dogs on the ground later Most of the food comes from the air, and we can use our own skills to intercept most of them before they hit the ground according to our respective greediness.I don't mean to speak ill of the science, the land certainly produces these foods too.The land probably took out a part of itself, and called another part out of the sky, no matter how it happened, there might be no essential difference.In both cases the cultivation of the land is necessary, and it is presumably unnecessary to study the distinction now that science has so clearly stated it, that is to say: "If you have food in your mouth, you will take care of it this time." all the questions." I feel, however, that science, in a covert form, at least partly studies these things, since it understands the two main methods of obtaining food, namely, the real cultivation of the land and the cultivation of the land by mantras, dances, and songs. Complementary elegant activity of its form.I found in it a dichotomy, not perfect, but clear enough, and exactly in line with my division.As I see it, the cultivation of the land is always necessary to obtain these two kinds of food, while spells, dances and songs have little to do with land food in the narrow sense, and are mainly used to pluck food from the air.The legend further strengthened my opinion.The populace seems to have modified the science here, without realizing it, and the science dared not rebel.As science wishes, these rituals should serve only the land, presumably to give it the power to draw food from the air.Since this is the case, then logically these ceremonies have to be carried out entirely on the ground, and everything has to be said to the land, danced to the land to see, and danced to the land to see.As far as I know, science probably doesn't ask for anything else.Strangely enough, the people performed all their ceremonies with their faces turned toward the air.It does this without prejudice to science, which does not forbid it; it gives freedom in this respect to the peasants, who consider only the land in their doctrines, and the peasants practice their theories concerning the land, and are satisfied with it, but according to my In fact, it takes more effort to sort out its thinking.I, who have never had a deep understanding of science, can't imagine how those scholars can tolerate our people rushing up and shouting those spells with rare fanaticism, singing our ancient folk songs into the air with sadness and lamentation, jumping up and down When dancing, it seems to forget the land and want to rise forever.I started by observing these contradictions. According to scientific theory, the harvest season may approach at any time. I completely confined myself to the ground. I stepped on it while dancing, and turned my head hard to get as close as possible to it.Then I dug a hole in my mouth, and sang or chanted, and only the earth could hear it, and no one else, either above or beside it.

The research results are minimal.Sometimes I don't get food and I'm trying to cheer the discovery when food comes again, as if they were confused by my odd behavior at first, but now I see the benefit they bring, gladly Give up my yelling and jumping.Food often comes in more abundance than before, but then there is nothing.I worked out all my experiments in detail, with an industry I had never seen in a young dog, and sometimes I thought I had found a clue which would lead me further, but then it was lost in the chaos.No doubt my lack of preparation in science also got in my way.If it is not my experiments but unscientific cultivation of the land that have caused my lack of food, where can I seek assurances? If this is true, then all my conclusions will be invalid.I want to make an experiment like this: if the land is not cultivated at all, the ritual of rushing up can make the food fall, but the ritual of performing the land will not get food.If successful, I would also be able to perform an experiment that is almost perfectly accurate under certain conditions.I have also done such an experiment, but the conviction is not strong, and the experimental conditions are not perfect, because according to my unshakable point of view, at least the land must be cultivated to a certain extent, and even if the heretics who do not believe in these are right, then there is no reason. Proved, because the spraying of the ground was a necessity, and in some areas it was simply unavoidable.Another experiment was a bit eccentric, but I did it with more success, and it caused a bit of a stir.I just got used to intercepting food in the air, so I decided not to intercept it, although I still let the food fall.For this purpose I gave a little jump whenever the food fell, but this jump was always calculated to miss the food.Most of the food fell nonchalantly to the ground, and I pounced on them with an anger not only born of hunger but also of disappointment.But now and then something different happens, and that's amazing, the food doesn't fall, but follows me through the air, following the hungry dogs.After a while, after following me for a short while, they fell, or disappeared without a trace.The most common thing is that my greed makes the experiment end early, and I eat up those things.I was very happy at the time, at least there was talk everywhere around me, the dogs became impatient and attentive, and I found that the dogs I was familiar with understood my problem better, and in their eyes I saw some kind of light for help, maybe It was just the reflection of my own gaze, I wanted nothing more, I was content.Of course I later learned—and other dogs followed me—that experiments of this kind had been described in science, and had been achieved with far greater success than mine, and that, since the self-control it required was so difficult to achieve, Haven't been able to do it for a long time, but it's said to be scientifically meaningless, so there's no need to repeat it.It merely confirms what is already known, that the earth fetches its food not only straight down from the air, but also obliquely, and even in a whirl.I stand there, but not discouraged, I am too young to be discouraged, on the contrary, I am therefore motivated to strive for the greatest achievement that I may still achieve in this life.I don't believe my experiment makes scientific sense, but what counts here is not belief, but evidence.I wanted to demonstrate, to bring to light the truth about this somewhat eccentric experiment, and to make it the center of my research.I want to prove that when I dodge the food, the earth doesn't drag them down sideways, but I lure them to follow me.However, I couldn't continue this experiment. Looking at the food in front of me, I had to conduct a scientific experiment, and no one could last long.But I want to adopt another method. I want to go on a complete hunger strike within a tolerable period. Of course, I also want to avoid even looking at the food and avoiding all temptations.So I lived in seclusion, sleeping with my eyes closed day and night, neither worrying about picking up food, nor worrying about intercepting food.I do not dare to say, but I have some hope that, without doing anything, by the inevitable and uneconomical spraying of the land and reciting spells and songs (I want to give up the dance, lest I lose my body), the food will Descending from the sky themselves, they ignored the ground and came straight to knocking my teeth and begging to be let in.If this happens, even if science is not refuted because it is flexible enough to deal with exceptions and special cases, what will the people say, thankfully not so flexible?Because it cannot be the kind of exception that has historically been made.According to historical records, a dog refused to prepare food, looked for food, and ate the food because of illness or pessimism. So the dogs united and chanted together, which made the food deviate from the normal route and went straight into the mouth of the sick dog.But I have plenty of energy and good health, and my appetite is so strong that I can think of nothing but it.Believe it or not, my hunger strike is completely voluntary anyway, I have the ability to get the food down myself and want to, but I don't need dog help and even firmly and firmly forbid myself to get help.

I searched for a suitable spot for myself in a remote bush where I could hear no dinner conversation, no mouths smacking, no bones cracking.I had another good meal, and then I lay down.I want to spend all the time with my eyes closed as much as possible.As long as I don't have enough to eat, whether it's a few days or a few weeks, I just think of it as night.But I had to sleep less or not at all during this time - which was very difficult, because not only did I have to chant a spell to make the food come down, but I also had to watch out for not sleeping past the time when the food arrived.But having said that, sleeping is a very pleasant thing, because sleeping is better for hunger than waking.For these reasons, I decided to divide my time carefully and get lots of sleep, but only a little bit at a time.The way I did this, was to rest my head on a soft branch when I slept, and it would break in a moment, and I would be awakened.I just lay there, sleeping or waking up, or dreaming or singing silently, the first period of time passed, nothing happened, there was still no movement from the direction the food came from, as if I was obstructing the normal process of things , everything was silent.I was worried that the dogs would find out about my disappearance, find me soon, and take some measures against me. This kind of worry had some influence on my efforts.My other fear is that the smell of the so-called accidental food that I can get just by spraying the land—even though it’s what science calls barren land—will tempt me.But for the time being, nothing of the sort has happened, and I can continue my hunger strike.Despite these fears, I was, for the time being, as calm as I had never found myself to be.Although what I'm doing here is actually sublating science, I'm filled with the cheerfulness and almost universal calm of a scientific worker.In my fantasies I had the pardon of science, in which my research had a place, and I heard the comforting voice in my ear that since my research would be so brilliant, my dog's Life is by no means hopeless, science will be very friendly to me, it will explain my results in person, making this promise is tantamount to fulfilling it, I have always had a feeling of being cast out in the back of my heart, like crazy I want to return to my people again, and they are going to accept me respectfully, and I will be surrounded by the warm current of the bodies of dogs gathered together, the warm current of day and night, and I will be caught Lifted high, to be jolted on the shoulders of my people.The strange reaction of the first hunger, I felt so great what I had achieved, and I cried in that silent bush out of emotion and self-pity, which of course is not very understandable, because what is deserved is expected. Why should I cry?Probably just because of the ease of mind.Whenever I feel comfortable—rarely enough—I cry.Of course this passed quickly.As the degree of hunger increased, those wonderful illusions gradually faded away, and after a short while, when all the hallucinations and excitement were hastily bid farewell, the only thing that accompanied me was the hunger that stabbed my internal organs. "It's called hunger." I said it to myself countless times, as if I wanted to convince myself that hunger is hunger, and I'm still me, and it's like a nasty lover, and I can throw it away, but In fact we are so painfully bonded that when I explain to myself "this is hunger," it is actually talking, it is making fun of me.A hateful and hateful time!Just thinking about it makes me shudder, not just because of the pain I've been through, but mostly because I'm not done with it, and if I'm going to do anything good, I have to relive the pain, because I've never Also used hunger strike as the last powerful method of my research.The road spirals in hunger, and the highest point—if it is reachable—can only be reached at the highest price, and that highest price in our case is voluntary hunger strike.When I study those days—I would like to recall them for the sake of my life—I study the days that threatened me.It seems to take almost a lifetime to recover from one such experiment, and I have never been starved like that in my whole adult life, and I have not recovered.If I start a hunger strike next time, I may be more decisive than before, because I have more experience, because I understand the necessity of this experiment more clearly, but my physical strength has been declining since then, at least I'd be exhausted just waiting for that familiar horror.My declining appetite will not help me, it will only slightly lessen the value of the experiment, and may force me to starve more days unnecessarily.I believe that these and other prerequisites are clear to me. During this long interval there was no lack of preparatory experiments. I have started hunger strikes many times, but I have never been hungry. Gone is the aggressiveness.It disappeared during the hunger strike that year.Many thoughts tormented me.Our ancestors seemed a threat to me.Although I dare not say it publicly, I think they are responsible for everything, for this miserable life. I can easily counter their threats with counter-threats, but I admire them. knowledge, so that although reality compelled me to rebel against them, I could never violate their laws, but only slipped through gaps in the laws, for which I had a special sense of smell.I base my hunger strike on that famous conversation.During this conversation, one of our wise men made the point of prohibiting hunger strikes, and another immediately dissuaded him by asking the question: "Who is going to go on a hunger strike?" This prohibition, but now there is such a question: "Actually, hunger strikes are not prohibited, right?" The vast majority of commentators on this issue hold a negative attitude, thinking that hunger strikes are allowed, and they prefer the second wise man, so There is no need to worry that some kind of wrong annotation will cause bad consequences.Before starting the hunger strike, I had already checked this problem.But now, when I'm curled up with hunger, groping for help on my own hind legs in my delirium, desperately licking them, biting them, sucking their blood all the way to the anus, I I just felt that the general commentary on that talk was completely wrong, and I cursed this science of commentary, and cursed me for allowing it to lead me astray.Even children must be able to see that there was not only one prohibition against hunger strikes in that conversation. The first wise man wanted to prohibit hunger strikes, and the wish of the second wise man had already been fulfilled, which means that hunger strikes were prohibited. Agreeing with him, and also considering the impossibility of a hunger strike, that is, to add to the first prohibition a second, namely, the ban on dog-nature itself, the first wise man accepted, never mentioning the explicit Prohibition, that is to say, after explaining all this, he asked the dogs to exercise their judgment and forbade themselves to go on a hunger strike.That was a triple ban, not the usual one, and I violated it.At least now I can abide by it too late, and stop the hunger strike, but in the midst of this pain there is also a temptation to continue the hunger strike, and I follow it greedily, like following a strange dog.I couldn't stop my hunger strike, probably too weak to stand up, unable to escape this lonely place.I tossed and turned on the fallen leaves in the forest, unable to sleep, I heard noises from all around me, and the world I had seen sleeping until now seemed to be awakened by my hunger strike.I got the impression that I would never be eaten, because if I did I would have to silence the world, which is loud and free, again, which I couldn't do.Yet the loudest noise I heard was in my stomach.I would put my ear to my stomach and stare in horror because I couldn't believe what I was hearing.The situation was so dire that my nature seemed dazed in its futile attempts at rescue.I began to smell the food, the delicious food that I hadn't eaten in a long time, the joy of my childhood.Yes, I smell my mother's frankincense.I had forgotten the resolution to ward off odors, but I hadn't forgotten it, so to speak.I crawled around with what seemed like a determined determination, always only a few steps out, sniffing, as if I wanted to smell the food just to guard against me.I didn't find anything, I wasn't disappointed, the food was there, it was just a few steps away, my leg had been broken earlier.But at the same time, I also know that there is nothing there, and I move a little just because I am afraid that I will collapse completely in a place where I can never leave again.The last hope is shattered, the last temptation is gone, I will die here, what my research is meant to be, a naive experiment in an age of naive happiness, here and now persisting, the instinct of research proves its worth here, yet where is it.Here there is only one dog crawling helplessly into nothingness, who has been spraying the ground desperately and hastily without knowing it, but the spells are so messed up that he can't find anything in his memory, not even the puppy. Even the cub can read the small line retracted under the mother's body, but he can't find it.I feel that I am not a short distance from my brothers here, but a thousand miles from dogs.I don't think I'm actually going to die of hunger strike at all, but of loneliness.It is clear that no one cares about me, the ones on the ground don't care about me, the ones on the ground don't care about me, the ones in the air don't care about me, I'm going to ruin in their indifference, and their indifference says: he's going to die, maybe so.Do I disagree?Am I not saying the same thing?Don't I want this loneliness?Goodbye, you dogs, but not to end up here, but to the side of the truth, out of this world of lies, where there is not a dog who can hear the truth from his mouth, from me This natural lie cannot be heard in the mouths of citizens.Maybe the truth is not so far away, and I'm not as lonely as I think, and it's not the other dogs that have abandoned me, but myself, who has done nothing and is dying.

But dying wasn't as fast as a nervous dog would think.I just passed out, and when I woke up and looked up, there was a strange dog standing in front of me.I was not hungry, I was in good health, and as far as I could judge, my joints were still flexible, though I did not try to prove it by standing up.I didn't see anything out of the ordinary, a handsome, but not particularly remarkable dog standing in front of me, that's all I saw and nothing else, but I think I saw a difference in him general stuff.There was blood under my body, at first I thought it was food, but I immediately realized that it was blood from my vomiting.I turned my gaze to the strange dog.He was thin, long-legged, with brown hair speckled with white spots, and a moving, powerful, examining gaze.

"What are you doing here?" he said. "You must get out of here." "I can't leave now," I said, without further explanation, because no matter how much I explained everything to him, he seemed in a hurry. "Go away, please," he said, restlessly putting one foot down and raising the other. "Leave me alone," I said, "come on, don't worry about me, and neither do the other dogs." "I'm asking you for your sake." "Why do you ask me to do as you please," I said, "even if I wanted to." "No problem," he said with a smile, "you can go. It is precisely because you look weak that I beg you to leave slowly now. If you hesitate, you will have to run later."

"It's my business," I said. "It's my business, too," he said, hurt by my stubbornness, but he had evidently wanted me to stay here for a while, and take advantage of the opportunity to make friends with me.If this handsome dog did this at another time, I would like it very much, but at that time, I couldn't figure out what was going on, and I had a sense of fear about it. "Go away!" I yelled, raising my voice, as if I had to do this to protect myself. "I'll just let you stay here," he said slowly, drawing back. "You're incredible. Don't you like me?"

"As long as you go away, as long as you let me be quiet, I will like you." I said, although I wanted him to believe it, but I was not sure of myself.My senses have been sharpened by the hunger strike, and I see or hear something in him, it's just forming, it's growing, it's getting clearer, I've got it, if you can't imagine now Figure out how you will stand up, this dog will have the strength to drive you away.He just shook his head mildly in response to my rude answer, and I looked at him even more curiously. "Who are you?" I asked. "I'm a hunter," he said.

"Why don't you want me to stay here?" I asked. "You bother me," he said. "I can't hunt when you're here." "Try it," I said, "perhaps you can hunt." "No," he said, "I'm sorry, but you have to go." "Give up hunting today!" I begged. "No," he said, "I must hunt." "I must go, and you must hunt," I said, "without any pretense. Do you understand why we have to? " "I don't understand," he said, "but there's nothing to understand about it either, it's obvious and natural." "Not really," I said, "you're sorry for having to get rid of me, but you're going to do it anyway." "That's right," he said. "That's right," I repeated angrily. "That's not an answer. Which would you find easier to give up, the hunting or the chase?" "Give up hunting." He said without hesitation. "Then," I said, "there is a contradiction here." "What contradiction?" he said. "You sweet little dog, don't you really understand that I have to? Don't you understand that it's a matter of course?" I didn't answer any more, because I found—and now I felt a sudden new life, a life brought on by shock—I discovered in incredible details that no one but me would probably notice, that he began to Sing a song from the depths of your chest. "You're going to sing." I said. "Yes," he said solemnly, "I'm going to sing, soon, but I haven't started yet." "You've already started," I said. "No," he said, "it hasn't started yet, but get ready to listen." "Despite your denial, I have heard it," I said tremblingly.He was silent.I thought I saw something that no dog had experienced before me, at least not a trace of it in the legends.I hurriedly buried my face in the pool of blood in front of me in great fear and shame.Because I thought I saw the dog singing and he didn't know it, and besides, the melody that had been separated from him was floating in the air according to its own law, it seemed to have nothing to do with him, it was all over him towards me Come. —Today I certainly would not admit all such discoveries, I attribute them to my own overexcitement at the time, but though it was a mistake, it had a certain splendor, was the only truth, albeit a false one, The truth that I brought into this world, rescued from a hunger strike, at least shows how far we can go in terms of total detachment from ourselves.I was indeed completely detached from myself.Under normal circumstances, I would be seriously ill and unable to move, but at that time I couldn't resist the melody, and it seemed that he would take it as his own.It is getting stronger and stronger, it may be infinitely stronger, and it is almost deafening my ears at the moment.Worst of all, it seemed as though I had it only because of me, the sudden silence of the forest before its majesty.Who am I who dares to stay here forever?Who am I, covered in dirt and blood, showing off in front of it?I stood up tremblingly, and looked down at my body, what is the point of running like this, I was just thinking about it, but I was driven by the melody and ran away in a wonderful jump.I said nothing to my friends, and probably should have told all about it as soon as I arrived, but I was too weak at the time, and afterwards I found it impossible to tell.I couldn't force myself to resist the desire to tell a little bit about it, but when the time came I couldn't utter a word.另外，没过几小时我的身体就复原了，但精神上的后果我一直背到今天。 我将我的研究扩展到了狗类音乐上，科学在这方面肯定不是无所作为的，如果我了解的不错，关于音乐的科学大概要比关于食物的科学内容更为丰富，至少能比较确定地得到证实。对此可以这样来解释，在前者的领域里能够比在后者的领域里更冷静地工作，前者涉及的多为纯粹的观察和系统化，而后者涉及的主要是符合实际的结论。与此有关的还有，敬重音乐科学更甚于敬重食物科学，但前者从未能像后者那样深入民众之中。在听到森林里的那种声音之前，我比任何一只狗都更不了解音乐科学，虽说与那几个狗乐师相遇的经历已经向我提示了它，但我当时还太小了。仅仅接近一下这门科学也并不是件易事，它在大家眼里难度极大，而且对大多数狗都傲然相拒。虽说那几只狗身上引人注目的是音乐，但我觉得他们隐藏起来的狗性比音乐更为重要，在别处我大概绝不会把什么类似的东西认作他们那可怕的音乐，因此我可以不去管它，但从那之后在所有的狗身上我处处都能遇到他们那种本性。要研究狗的本性，我觉得研究食物是再合适不过了，可以不走一点弯路到达目的地。然而这两门科学的边缘学科当时已引起了我的疑心，它就是关于唤下食物的歌唱的理论。在这里我又有很大的障碍，因为我从未真正钻研过音乐科学，在这方面我还远远算不上总是倍受科学歧视的半瓶子醋。我觉得如今依然是这样。在一个学者面前，恐怕连那最简单的考试也会让我考得焦头烂额，遗憾的是我有这方面的证据，除了已经提到的生活环境外，之所以这样的原因当然主要在于我在科学方面的无能，思维能力太弱，记忆力太差，特别是没有能力牢牢盯住科学目标。这些我都公开承认，甚至还带着某种愉悦感。我觉得，我在科学方面无能的更深的原因是天性，而且确实不是恶劣的天性。如果想说大话我就可以说，恰恰是这种天性毁了我在科学方面的能力，因为这难道不是种至少是非常奇怪的现象：我在一般的日常事物中——它们肯定不是最简单的——显示出的智力还算过得去，就算我理解不了科学，但对那些学者的认识却是入木三分，这在我的成果中可以得到检验，可同样是这个我，一开始就连将爪子伸向科学的第一级台阶的能力都没有。也许恰恰是由于这科学的缘故——不过那是一种不同于今天所从事的科学的科学，是一种最新的科学——这种天性使我将自由看得高于一切。自由啊！当然，就像它今天已成为可能，自由是个可怜的东西。不过毕竟还是自由，毕竟还是一种财产……