Stories About Animals

By DJURO MARICIC

The story book about ANIMALS events described are true. I have 75 years shared friendship with domestic animals: cats, dogs, horses, cattle, sheep, chickens. I loved them and they loved me. Even when I was two years old, my cat Nicholas slept by my feet. In these stories, you'll see how cat cured me; how birds quarrel with my father; how dog defends his mistress from the other two dogs.

You will see how I learned to love wild animals: a fox because I loved her so, I saved an eagle, he fought with the wolf, I was cured by the cat. These are boom, effective story.

When you read this book, you'll fall in love with animals and nature and strive to protect and preserve their environment.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris UK
• Release date: Oct 13, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465303929

DJURO MARICIC

John Moscow (Djuro Maricic) When he was in the fifth grade, he began to write poetry and criticism. He liked to draw. Completed the Faculty of Electrical Engineering, he studied economics and German language, but remained faithful to the writing. He writes songs for children and adults; stories; novels; aphorisms; criticism; travel writing. Until now, printed 13 books and has written 15 more, ready for printing. Most attention was paid to poetry for children. His songs are short, funny and effective. Some of them can be found in textbooks for children in more countries. He writes simply and clearly. I believe his stories about animals are one of the best and most beautiful in the world literature. He loves chess. More than 60 years involved in chess, is judged on five chess Olympiads, as a chess master he has many friends throughout the world.

Book preview

Love for Animals

I love animals. This love is unconsciously innate in me. This love is my characteristic as my other (inborn) characterics.

I’ve learned from animals that their love is strong—stronger than a human’s. Their feelings are more honest. My hamster died even though I gave him everything. But I noticed that he suffered because his old mistress had left him, and he thought that she had left him forever and that nobody would love him as he was loved and cuddled by his mistress. He died of grief.

Once I met with an accident several kilometres away from home, due to which my dog showed visible signs of distress. Though I was injured, I was okay, but the dog still confidently knew that something was not right and so warned the folks.

I lived near the train station. I got my dog as a puppy. He used to run beside the train track to race with the train. When the train slowed down before it entered the station, my dog used to run along with it, to the delight of the passengers and the train master. Once it happened that the level-crossing gate gradually opened and the dog was able to track the train all the way to the station. I lost him from sight behind the house and at the turns. Under normal circumstances, when the train began to slip and he could not follow, he would return to me. But now it was not so. I figured that maybe he climbed a mound carelessly on the run or he was put up in a panel wagon or perhaps he was now lying injured or dead. So I went to look for him. I went a long distance, but he was nowhere to be found. I had an urgent and important job, so I returned, sat in the car, and drove through the city. Suddenly I saw my dog—he had gone to the place where I had parked my car. He set off across the centre of the city in order to meet me; he knew exactly where he was and where he would meet me.

There is a case described in this story where the dog would not let my pregnant daughter-in-law go alone to the store; he knew that there was a risk of other dogs and that he must go with her for defence. Apparently, a dog has a sense that scientists still do not know, but the dog owners know this and can convince that their pets have an ability that human beings may have had once. Now humankind’s mental development is at a much lower level, and the development of the brain and thinking process has lost its capacity. Why is it gone?

Will science ever tackle this issue, and thus, will they be able to solve this riddle? Can there be any ability to revive? If so, how? Countless questions of science require an answer. Maybe we would have to generate new scientific fields, such as parabiotika, to furnish answers to any of them.

Nothing is less puzzling than the fact that a cat knows that my grey hair is not natural but that it has come as a result of disease. So on what basis did it find?

Being friendly with animals, I have experienced a lot of strange adventures of their lives, which would be attractive to the readers. I’ve included some of them in the stories, in which nothing is fictional. Some of these adventures still excite me. It makes me happy to invoke the memory of these wonderful creatures, as I love them, and they love it and deserve it too, because they loved me, and perhaps more honestly than some people; I just smile gently when they assure me of their love. By me, some animals sense that behind these assurances there is a simple and shameless lie and some personal interest of one who tries to deceive me and figure out how to avoid the truth and good faith of my lie fans.

For me, animals have never been insincere, nor I to them! That’s why I love them—love them to my subconscious; it is then transferred to my consciousness. That does not mean that a man likes less. What a man kept from character of animal for to him, deserves a full, sincere love of every one of us!

Friendship with the Birds

Grandfather Peter had a pine tree in his yard. A blackbird had built a nest on the tree. Excellent! Here no one will notice my birds, thought the crazy bird.

However, Grandfather Peter had noticed the frequent flights of the blackbird and so carefully looked at the nest on the tree. The bird was lying on it. Upon seeing Grandfather, it got scared, but then became happy to see him smile.

‘Let this be our secret, bird.’ Grandfather winked. ‘Only you sleep. No, you should not bother until you’re on my pine.’

‘I’ll hold you to your word,’ he replied, looking at the confident bird. ‘There is something new. I expect the young will become a mom,’ he confided to the blackbird.

‘Santa was not served,’ he said, revealing the secret of his small Caliber friend and neighbour, whose house was across the street, opposite grandfather’s.

‘You think, Dalibor, that I love only you? I also love the birds.’ Then grandfather took him to see the nest.

Dalibor was tormented by curiosity; he had to look at the birds, but it was not easy. He wanted neither the bird nor grandfather to know about this. Like a thief, he seized the opportunity one day. When grandfather went in the afternoon to take rest, the little bird flew by and looked for food for the birds. Somehow Dalibor managed to come near the tree. Tentatively, he went through a thicket of brush and peeped into the nest. Three birds were being fed by its mother; food was being put into their open red throats. Dalibor was amazed to see all these. He briefly looked at the mother bird, then the three little birds slept.

When Dalibor’s mother saw resin smeared on her son’s pants, she got mad and beat him, not to give clean, it had to be thrown away. But Dalibor did not give the devil peace and told his mother,’I would often watch the birds’. He came to the silly idea to move the nest to the lowest branches of the pine.

Blackbird returned with food and was stunned to see the change of place. It became angry and wondered who would have moved the her nest. Who are so foolishly playing with my children? All the rush amazed grandfather, who was lying in the shade of the Polish bed and reading a newspaper. Bristly ball of feathers, with the intensity of a fired bullet, hit the newspapers and broke them from the hands of grandfather. She flew at him—the claws and the beak