Dan Knew

By F J Curlew

A Ukrainian street dog is rescued from certain death by an expat family. As he travels with them to Estonia, Lithuania, Portugal and the UK, he learns how to be a people dog, but a darkness grows and he finds himself narrating more than just his story. More than a dog story. Ultimately it's a story of escape and survival told in&nb

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fiona Curnow
• Release date: Nov 18, 2017
• ISBN: 9780995531444

F J Curlew

Fiona was the winner of the Federation of Writers (Scotland) short story competition, 2023. She dropped out of school aged fifteen, because being the consummate rebel, she hated it! After becoming a single parent she decided to return to education, graduating in 1996 with an honours degree in primary education. Ah, the irony! As soon as she graduated she packed everything she owned into her Renault 11, including her daughter, two dogs and a cat, and headed off to Estonia to become an international school teacher. After working abroad for fifteen years, predominantly in Eastern Europe, she returned to Scotland where she now lives with her rescue Springer Spaniel, Brockie, and Fingal the Portuguese rescue cat. She now writes under her given name of Fiona Curnow.

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Praise for Dan Knew

‘The story is powerful enough on its own but told through the eyes of a rescue dog it becomes fascinating and enthralling. I will truly remember this story forever and the unique way it has been written.’ Waggy Tales Dog Blog

‘I defy anyone not to fall in love with Dan...this book has shown me how to overcome adversity, even when at rock bottom a lick or nose butt from Dan would inject a bit more strength.’  Ali the Dragon Slayer

‘This is a very poignant story about a rather special little dog called Dan who was rescued from the streets of Ukraine and taken on an unforgettable journey. The overwhelming love that the author has for Dan is obvious in every well written word of this lovely story, which allows Dan’s unique voice to be heard and understood in a very special way.’  Jaffa Reads Too

‘I couldn’t help but fall in love with Dan and I felt as though I actually knew him by the end of the book. There is now a Dan-shaped space in my heart.’  Bloomin’ Brilliant Books

‘I have no idea how the author managed to capture so much of a dog’s personality and the little things that they do...I have to admit I have struggled to write a review for this book, not because I didn’t like it because I loved it. My main struggle is that because it is so descriptive and well written, I feel that I won’t do it justice.’  Jen Med’s Book Reviews

‘With stories that made me laugh and cry, Dan Knew, is a book that is filled with so much love for Wee Dan that you can’t help but love him too. His unique voice will be forever immortalised in print and what a fitting tribute to a truly wonderful dog.’ The Book Magnet

‘I really enjoyed this one and I will remember Dan for a long time. A story for animal lovers, dog lovers or generally anybody that has a heart.’ Reflections of a Reader

‘I fell in love, hook, line and sinker. Dan’s story is a very personal one, it’s a wonderful story about survival, about overcoming fears, about loyalty and the bond we have with our pets. It’s a story of courage and how ‘mum’ over comes the battles she faces each day and how Dan is always by her side. I thoroughly enjoyed reading Dan Knew, its unique with a gorgeous little dog that you can’t help falling in love with. A highly recommended read.’ It’s All About The Books

‘What a beautiful story, it will tug at your emotional heartstrings and is a roller-coaster of emotions. I highly recommend this thought-provoking and emotional book about life, the good the bad and the ugly...’  If in Doubt Read

‘Oh boy, this book! This book tore my heart out and made me fall in love...I warn you that you will need tissues both for tears of laughter and sorrow.’ Life of a Nerdish Mum

Dan Knew

by F J Curlew

Revised edition 2023

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. For permission please contact [e-mail]

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

Copyright © 2017 F J Curlew

All rights reserved

Dan Knew is a work of non-fiction. The animals in this book are real, as are their stories. The people’s names have been changed to protect their privacy.

I was an international dog and there were different sounds in each of the countries I lived in. If you don’t know what the sounds mean you can find out in the glossary at the end of the book.

Ukraine 2002

The End Of The Beginning

It was so hot. Too hot to be out in the sun. Safer here in the shadows. Safe from the heat, from the dangers of daytime. The ground was dry and dusty and I could smell the burning of the sun, feel it licking at the walls all around me.

I was with my family: me, my brother and sisters, and my mother. I wasn’t very old and still needed my mother to help me get food, to look after me. She wouldn’t let me feed from her any more; she brought back food instead.

I wanted to hunt. To go out with her. ‘Not yet’, she growled. ‘Not yet’ – her teeth bared, her eyes narrow. I knew that meant stay. Serious stay.

We were living under a building. There was a hole we could creep through that led to an almost-underground place, and it kept us safe. We had to hide from a lot of things. From the noisy, big machines that could run faster than us. They would kill us, squash us flat! I had seen it once. A dog that wasn’t quick enough. Trying to get that last piece of food. Snatching at the ground. Eyes staring. A bad noise. The body of a dog.

When the machine had gone I watched, as the other adult dogs sniffed the air, then walked towards it, slowly, slowly, checking all around. Noses high, hackles raised, senses on alert. Fresh meat. They pulled at it, tearing bits of flesh from its body. Growling and snarling at each other.

The stronger dogs ate first. I watched my mother edging forwards, trying to sneak her way to the front. A quick dash, a snap, a growl, and she was running back with meat in her mouth.

I ate well that day. I knew it was dog, but it was dead. It tasted good. Better than the usual scraps that we ate most days. We were hungry a lot of the time, you see. When food came we ate. It didn’t matter what it was.

My mother was out trying to find something for us to eat. I could hear her rummaging through the garbage cans, snuffling through bits of paper and plastic. If she found something she would try and hide it from the others. Run back to us with it before they saw her. There were many of us, you see. Lots of dogs living around here, and we had to fight some of the time.

Well, the adults would fight and we would watch, learning, practising, waiting, until it would be our turn. Usually it was about food, sometimes territory; some other dog wanting our place. Our patch. Occasionally one of them just got angry. I didn’t know why.

Sometimes we would work together, all of the dogs. We’d chase an enemy off. Another dog maybe, from a different pack, a different area. There were other animals for chasing too. Birds, bigger than me, white and noisy with bright orange beaks that could stab. They were scary and we young dogs would keep ourselves well hidden from them.

Noisy, hissing cats with claws sharper than my teeth. Rats. They were food too. Sometimes my mother would catch one and we’d eat. But they could fight, the rats. They could be mean and my mother had scars on her face from them. She had a lot of scars. They all did, the older dogs.

Our biggest enemies were the two legged ones. The humans. We had to hide ourselves really well when they were around. I heard them that day. Their feet stomping. I could see my mother. She was running back to us.

My mother.

Running.

Looking back at them, then forward to us. I could sense a very big fear from her. There was a long pole which they lunged at her with. Something pulled her back suddenly by her neck. It was so quick. They had her at the end of their pole. I could see her eyes, wide, staring. Her feet scrambling to stand but she couldn’t.

I didn’t know...I didn’t know what was happening but it was all bad. I kept hidden and watched as they threw her into the back of one of the noisy machines. A big one that had a very bad smell. There were dog noises too. Whimpers, cries, very quiet ones. Very sad ones. Pain ones. I was filled with a big fear and sadness all at once. All together. Mixed up and scary.

The men were coming towards our hiding place. Closer and closer they came. Their smell was bad. It was danger. I was shaking and so, so, scared. One of them had a big bag in his hand. The other one had the pole. I edged back as far as I could. Back, back into the darkest of the dark places. I hoped they couldn’t see me.

They were poking with their pole, backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards. I couldn’t see it but I could hear it, smell it, feel it scraping the ground, breaking the air. I was shaking and shaking. There was a yelp. Lots of yelps. I knew the sound. My family! The men had them. They threw them into the bag.

Human voices. A door slamming. The noise of the machine.

The whimpering was getting further away. Nothing left but the smell of the big machine and the badness it took with it.

I stayed there, in my hiding place, and watched. Staring at what had been. Now a space. An emptiness. Nothing but bad feelings. The sun slipped down low in the sky. The shadows grew long and disappeared. It was night time. I listened. The sounds had all changed. I couldn’t hear any of the other dogs. No snuffling, growling, nothing.

It was too scary for me to go out, even though I was hungry. I curled myself up into a tight safety ball, tucked my head under my legs as far as it would go, tried to get to sleep. It wasn’t easy. I kept thinking and thinking about what had happened. Pictures of what I’d seen. Awful ones.

I had never been alone before and I didn’t like it. There was nothing to snuggle up to. No other heartbeats. No kicks and dream noises. No snuffles. No breathing, apart from mine. And mine sounded so loud in this silence that was everything now. This bad, bad silence. Maybe the next day would be better?

I could feel the strength of the sun through the stone of the wall, smell the heat, but I didn’t move. I stayed and watched. When I had to go to the toilet I did it in the den, even though I knew that it was something I shouldn’t do, I was too afraid of the outside. I missed my family so much but I didn’t howl, I knew I couldn’t. I had to be as still and quiet as the emptiness that was left.

All day I waited, pricking my ears at every sound, catching smells, trying to recognise them. There was nothing. They weren’t coming back, were they? I had to move. My stomach told me so, my senses too. I had to move to stay alive. Darkness. Wait for the safety of darkness.

When it came I crept out very slowly, keeping my body low on the dusty ground. So low. Food was what I needed more than anything. I was so hungry that it hurt. I stopped for a moment and sniffed at the air, looked around. There were the shadows of trees and buildings and machines.

I crept a little bit further, standing taller. Then my nose caught it. Meat. I forgot about being scared and ran towards it. The smell. My mouth was wet.

The food smell was coming from a building quite close to our home. I had only seen it from further away before. It was a very noisy place with a lot of people, and at night time, the thump, thump, thump of music. Lots of laughter and humans having fun, but I knew that anywhere there were humans was dangerous for us. We had to be very careful. We kept far away if we could.

Tonight I had to go close.

There was a big piece of hard ground with lots of machines standing on it. I tried not to look, just run towards the smell of the food. Suddenly it was there. A machine, heading straight for me! The lights blinded me. I couldn’t move. I...

A human screamed and I felt a hand swoop me up and lift me so high, away from the machine. My heart was thumping and I was shaking. I didn’t know what was happening to me. If I was in danger, or if I was safe. The hands felt...safe. The human smell felt...safe.

‘Oh, look at you. It’s okay. Really it is.’ A man held me up high and sort of jiggled me, laughing. He must have been really big because I was so far above the ground.

‘Let me see. Is he okay?’ a woman asked.

Her voice wasn’t like the others I’d heard. The noises were a bit different, softer. There was a good smell coming from her. A smell of something friendly. Something kind. Something not hungry, not scared. She felt happy. Good.

‘You are so cute!’ she said. She held me close to her and I snuggled in, hiding my head under her arm. ‘Mum won’t mind,’ she giggled.

‘What about HIM?’ the man with her asked.

It didn’t sound nice. I don’t think he liked HIM.

The woman shrugged her shoulders. ‘It’ll be fine.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Don’t care really. Mum will be delighted.’

I couldn’t see anything because I kept myself tucked under her arm where I felt safest. The noises all changed. The smells too.  We were getting further and further away from my home. Further away from everything. That much I knew. But I felt safe. She felt safe. My eyes got heavy. The jiggling of her walk, the beat of her heart, the sound of her breathing, were all comforting. I fell asleep.

The People Place

There was a loud bang and I woke up with a jump. I had forgotten where I was, what had happened. The smell of human brought it back and a sorrow covered me. I shook it off. I had to survive and it wouldn’t help me. I knew that.

I peered out from under the woman’s arm. It was black, dark, for a second, then a light flicked on. It made a funny buzzing noise and blinked on and off a few times before it settled.

I had never been in such a bright light before that wasn’t the sun. It hurt my eyes. I closed them a few times until I got used to it. We were inside a building. There were stairs. Lots and lots of them. We kept going up and up. I could smell other dogs and humans and food and dust. It was very strange.

The woman opened a door on the third floor and we went in. She closed the door quickly behind us. I could feel a nervousness from her. Then I saw them. Two great big dogs charging along the hallway, running straight at us!

I could smell that they were both girls. One of them looked like a bear: huge, black and so hairy. The other was beautiful, like many that lived on the streets in Kyiv, but clean and bright and very happy.

The woman laughed and then said, ‘Down! Behave!’ nicely, but strictly.

Their tails wagged and wagged and they were sniffing at her. I could see that these dogs were her friends. They were people dogs, like the ones I had seen walking past my home sometimes. We would bark at them, us street dogs. They were different from us. There was always the chance of danger from them and their people and we had to keep them away from our territory.

There was more of her smell here too. The woman’s smell. This must be where she lives, I thought. I had never been inside a people house before. It was so different from the place I had lived in. The ground wasn’t made of dirt and it had a feeling of safety, like nothing bad could get in.

‘Will they be okay with the puppy?’ the man asked.

‘Sure. They’re a pair of big softies. Well, most of the time!’ She laughed.

We walked along a corridor and into a room which had big doors with glass in them. You could see the outside from there. That was good. It was important to be able to see what was outside in case you had to run, or fight, or hide. I knew that.

There was a piece of soft carpet on the wooden floor, some big chairs that looked really comfy; huge, big, wooden cupboards along the walls full of books and china things. So many things I had never seen before.

The woman put me down on the biggest chair which she called a sofa. ‘You two be nice,’ she said to the other dogs,  pointing her finger at them.

Their tails were still wagging and they were sniff, sniffing at me. I barked, just to tell them I was tough and not afraid, then I added my scent to the sofa.

‘Noo..Not there!’ the woman called out, as she lifted me up and put me on a piece of paper on the floor.

The black dog backed off as if she was a bit scared. But the creamy coloured dog started licking up where I had scented on the sofa, then she licked my tummy like my mother used to do. I liked her. I liked this. This felt safe.

‘Oh Ceilidh,’ the woman said with a laugh. ‘Are you going to mother him too?’ She stroked her head.

Ceilidh wagged her tail.

I wanted to smell everything, to explore. My nose followed trails on the carpet, on the wooden floor, on the linoleum. There had been other animals here too, not just these dogs. And other people. Strong other people smells. I caught the scent of something like mouse, I thought, but a bit different. Everything here was a bit different and it was all very confusing. I had a lot of learning to do.

The woman picked me up and carried me through to another room. It was small and smelled of food. All kinds of food. My mouth was wet at the thought. It had been such a long time since I had eaten anything. I had almost forgotten because of all the new that was happening. The new place, new people, new dogs, new!

She put a plate on the floor with some meat on it. It was the best thing I had ever eaten. I gulped it down so quickly, my eyes and ears on alert. I can’t lose any of this! There was a bowl of milk too. I had never seen a bowl before and I tipped it over as I was trying to drink from it. The milk spilled all over my paws and the floor. Yes! A lot of learning!

‘Ceilidh, Lada, come!’ the woman called.

The dogs were there super-quickly. She pointed to the milk on the floor and they licked it all up. Then the cream one, who was the one called Ceilidh, licked me clean too. My belly was fat and I could hardly move. That was a new feeling for me. And I liked it. I liked it a lot!

The woman put some paper on the floor of the kitchen and a cushion in the corner. She put me on the cushion and stroked me. I had never felt a thing like this before. It was so soft and full of people smells. My feet sank into it and made little hollows. I turned around and around on it, sniffing and sniffing, pawing and pawing. My tail was wagging.

‘Now you be a good little boy and stay there,’ she said.

She stood up and flicked at a switch on the wall. It got darker, but there was a light shining in from outside making everything look orange, so I could still see. I didn’t like it when she closed the door. There was no way out and I was trapped. I had never been trapped like that before. It was a very bad feeling. My heart began to thump.

Ceilidh and Lada were in another room, so was the woman. I could still smell them somewhere close by but I felt frightened. It wasn’t nice being locked in here. It was scary. I began to whimper, then to howl. The sound made me feel worse. Lonelier. It seemed to bounce back at me off the walls. I kept howling and the walls kept answering me. Somehow I just couldn’t stop. I missed my mother, my family and I was all alone in this strange place. And I didn’t feel safe any more. I didn’t like this any more.

I heard the door open. The woman was there. I wagged my tail at her and jumped up to let her know I was happy to see her. I made sad whimpers and happy yelps all mixed up.

‘Shhh. It’s okay. I’ll leave the door open for you. All right?’ she whispered softly, stroking my back.

I followed her out of the linoleum kitchen and into the wooden hall but she closed a door in front of me so that I couldn’t get into the room she was in. Perhaps she had forgotten me? I barked to let her know I was there; I was locked out.

The sound of her footsteps got further away and then stopped. I could hear a squeak and then nothing. The whole house was very quiet apart from a snuffling dog noise.

I sat down and looked around. It was darker in this bit of the house. There were doors around it, but no windows. I tried to scratch my way into the woman’s room but the door didn’t open. Ceilidh and Lada must be in one of these other rooms. I sniffed but their smell was everywhere. Maybe if I howled again? Told them I was here?

The woman’s door opened and I was so happy to see her that I stood on my back legs and made special happy noises.

‘Come on then,’ she said. ‘But just for tonight.’

She picked me up and it felt so good. The light from outside shone in this room too so that I could see better. She put me down on something soft beside her bed. I curled myself into a safety ball and fell asleep very quickly.

It Felt Like She Was Mine

The sun was shining through the windows. It was hot. I padded through to the kitchen and had a drink of water from the bowl that had been left there. It was big and smelled of the other dogs. The water went up my nose and made me sneeze.

Ceilidh came through and wagged her tail. I wagged mine back. She sniffed at me and nudged me with her nose so that I fell over. I could feel her tongue licking at my stomach, over and over. Yes, I liked this dog called Ceilidh.

She taught me so many things and I soon learned to copy what she did. She knew everything! Everything about chasing and stealing and keeping quiet and putting on special people faces so that they went, aww and stroked you or fed you. She was a very clever dog!

There was a noise at the front door. The woman picked me up. I could sense that she was nervous about something, but also a bit excited. Good and bad. The door opened and I could see two people, a man and a lady. The lady had big hair and a big smile and big friendly eyes. A happy face.

The man was smaller than her but there was a big feeling to him. An important feeling. They had large bags with them that carried a lot of smells which were new to me. I sniffed at the air, at them.

The lady laughed and stroked my head very softly. ‘What have you got there? Oh...he’s gorgeous. Whose is he?’

‘Um,’ the woman said, in a funny sort of a way. ‘He was a stray.’ She paused. ‘I thought, maybe...?’

Ceilidh and Lada were jumping around, their tails whipping, trying to say hello to the two new people. They were very happy to see them. Ceilidh was making this really funny noise and throwing her head back. It was a happy noise like a herroo sound. That must be good, I thought.

‘Can we just get in first. Please!’ the man said, in a not-very-nice voice. He smelled angry. I thought this must be HIM.

They took their bags into one of the other rooms. The woman waited in the sitting room. She was whispering soft noises in my ear. It was nice.

‘Let me see him then, Lily,’ the lady said. She had a soft smile and I could tell she was nice, she was friendly.

The woman, Lily, handed me over to the lady who she called Mum. I licked at her nose. The smells were all good. It felt like she was mine.

‘So, what do you think?’ Lily asked. ‘Can we keep him?’

‘What do you think?’ Mum replied, with a laugh in her voice. ‘Of course!’

‘And I have no say in this, then?’ HIM said.

‘But he’s so cute. What is he, a Jack Russell?’ Mum asked.

‘If the landlord finds out...’ HIM said, in a not-nice voice.

‘I don’t know,’ Lily replied to Mum. ‘I didn’t see his mother but he does look Jack Russelly, I think...’ She made a funny face.

‘For the record,’ the man added, ‘I am not happy about this.’

‘Two dogs, three dogs, what’s the difference?’ Mum answered. ‘And he’s so tiny. Look! He fits in the palm of my hand!’

‘We’re keeping him, then?’ Lily asked with a smile.

‘Yes. We are,’ Mum told her.

‘Looks like it,’ HIM added in a mumble, walking away from us with heavy feet.

Mum and Lily smiled at each other in a funny kind of a way, like they had a secret.

It was good in this house. There were soft, safe places to sleep. I had food all of the time and new dog friends. Ceilidh was especially nice. She looked after me and it was like I had a new mother. Of course I still had thoughts about my real mother, my family but I wasn’t so sad about them any more.

HIM had a bag-belt that tied around his body. He put me in it sometimes when we went outside. Lots of people stopped to talk to me. HIM liked it. He told them the story of how I was rescued, again and again, to lots of different people. They smiled at me and stroked me and said soft things. It seemed that there were more good people than I had thought. They weren’t all trying to do bad things to me.

My people had given me a name. I was called Danya.

One day Mum came back with what she called a collar. It was for me. She put it around my neck and closed it. It didn’t feel like it should be there and I tried to walk backwards, to escape from it, my head touching the ground. She laughed at me. I couldn’t get it off despite shaking and scratching and running.

Ceilidh and Lada both had them. Perhaps it was okay? I had seen long pieces of cloth, that they called leads, being clipped onto their collars and they would go outside for what they called a walk. When they came back they were happy and panting and waggy tailed. Maybe this was going to happen to me