Read Online Renni the Rescuer by Felix Salten - Free Book Online

the recovery of the dog, I’m very doubtful.”
    The old man turned pale. “That’s the fault of the laws—they’re so easy on people who abuse animals,” he broke out. He was now much angrier than he had beenbefore. He walked up and down, waving his arms. “The law! The law!” he cried. “Blast the law! It doesn’t afford near enough protection for harmless creatures. Not near enough.”
    He drew a deep breath, passed both hands over his face, bent down, petted Pasha gently on the back. The dog accepted the caress without a sign.
    Then Vogg greeted Renni. “Well, sir, you are getting along all right, aren’t you?” Renni, who had been a little frightened at the tumult, became happy instantly. He leaped on his master and then on Vogg. Vogg took him by the paws, looked into his serious eyes. “Yes, yes, old man, we’re fighting for your kind. We won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Turning Renni loose, he asked George, “What brings you to my house?”
    â€œNothing special,” answered George. He had to stop and collect his thoughts. He had just wanted to visit Vogg again, and he had something to tell him about the progress of his training.
    â€œWithout any punishment at all?” the old man asked.
    â€œWithout the least punishment,” George assured him.
    â€œWell now, a little lick once in a while—that might do some good and it could hardly harm the dog. I could trust you for that.”
    â€œNo,” insisted George. “I don’t dare. You see, I’ve got Renni used to one kind of treatment. If I tried ‘a little lick or two,’ the effect might possibly be too violent, too far-reaching.” As Vogg smiled he grew more earnest. “There have been a few times when I’ve been very much tempted to give Renni one or two. I admit that.” Vogg’s smile grew broader and Renni looked questioningly from one to the other. “But,” said George, “I made up my mind to complete the training entirely without punishment, without any violence whatever, or else give it up altogether.”
    â€œI’ll have to be shown,” remarked the old man sceptically. “It would be a most unusual case, and so might prove nothing at all.”
    â€œIt would be an object lesson for men in their dealing with animals,” said George triumphantly.
    Vogg persisted, smiling good-naturedly. “Most unusual I’d call it.”
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    Downstairs in front of the house George, to his surprise, found Karl walking up and down, snorting with rage. “I was waiting for you,” he cried. “We haven’t seen each other for a long time. Where have you been keeping yourself, anyway?”
    He did not wait for George’s stammered excuses. “Naturally you’re on the side of that old fool,” he spluttered, and thundered on without heeding George’s attempted reply. “Don’t say a word. I know exactly what a sentimental weakling you are. I know too that you’ve been avoiding me. It makes no difference to me. Do you imagine you have a monopoly on loving animals? You’re crazy! As if I didn’t love my Pasha! My Pasha, I said. Yes, mine . He belongs to me!”
    He snorted again. “Now that Pasha is an almost perfectly trained police dog, now that I’ve accomplished all I have with him, the old idiot has to interfere with his fool show-off. But I’ll make an example of him. The old thief! He wants to steal my dog, but I’ll give him something to remember me by!”
    Before George could think of anything to say in Vogg’s defence, there came an interruption. Pasha suddenly burst out of the door in a headlong run, caught sight of Karl, circled around him once, swinging his tail for joy, and, with his body arched in pleasure, went through the elaborate ceremony of finding his master.
    â€œHello! There