Is Mogi losing an eye?
N 51°21'785'' E 099°21'046''
Day: 134
Sunrise:
09:09
Sunset:
17:16
Total kilometers:
1141
Soil condition:
Ice, snow
Temperature – Day (maximum):
minus 10°C
Temperature – day (minimum):
minus 25°C
Temperature – Night:
minus 35°C
Latitude:
51°21’785”
Longitude:
099°21’046”
Maximum height:
1475 m above sea level
I spend a lot of time in the yurt writing down our experiences. The sun shines like every day and warms it up to minus 10 °C. Even if it’s minus 20 °C in the shade, that’s downright warm by local standards. Tanja is busy fetching water, shopping and doing the laundry.
To keep it warm in our yurt, we have to keep a fire going in the cannon stove. It is 4 p.m. when I leave our Mongolian home, as I do every day, to chop new firewood for the night and the day ahead. Mogi is looking forward to this time, as I let him off the chain and he can accompany me. Because he occasionally chased Ayush’s little calves, we only let him loose when we are present. It would be a disaster if he were to bite one of the calves. The usually annoying Ayush would certainly make us pay a high price and then throw us out. We don’t want to risk that. Today, however, Tanja took him shopping with her and because the calves are locked up in their little hutch, she didn’t chain him up again afterwards. So Mogi uses the free time to fight or play with other dogs.
As soon as I step outside, Jack arrives. He stands in front of me wagging his tail and asking to be stroked. “It’s all right Jack. You’re a lovely dog. But we have to stop when Mogi comes. Otherwise he’ll get jealous and we don’t want you two fighting,” I say as Mogi races around the corner of the old log cabin to join me in chopping wood. “Ah, there you are,” I say and immediately stop caressing Jack. Jack is not amused and starts barking at the top of his voice. Whereupon Mogi stands at my side and barks back. “Leave it alone, you two squabblers,” I say, grabbing my axe and the tin tub into which I put my logs. I pull the old tin tub behind me on a rope to get to the place in front of Ayush’s house where the wood supply is stored. Mogi doesn’t leave my side and Jack trots after us in a huff. I’m just dropping the rope I used to pull the tub over the ice and snow, putting the axe on a tree stump to put on my gloves, when Jack Mogi suddenly attacks. Of course, Mogi doesn’t put up with anything and bites back. Within a fraction of a second, the two dogs are rolling over the snow like a ball of wool. Mercilessly engrossed in each other. Startled, I see Jack bite Mogi on the head and shake him wildly. “Are you insane!” I yell, grabbing a wooden bat lying around and hurling it at Jack. Because of the wild and absolutely needleless fight, it is difficult to hit the right dog with it. I wait a moment for the right moment, then I hurl the log at Jack. He doesn’t react at all and bites even harder into the front of Mogi’s head. Mogi screams in pain. I hurl another log and hit the target. Jack pauses for a moment. I jump between the two dogs and give Jack a hard kick. As he tries to roll away with a slight limp, Mogi follows, which is why I also kick him.
Finally, the two squabblers have had enough. Mogi is running around excitedly and with a battered side. “What’s wrong with you? Did that bastard hurt you?” I ask, running after him and grabbing his collar. “My God. That can’t be true. What has he done to your eye? Oh dear. You poor thing. Oh no! Oh no!” I shout in horror, looking at the bitten eye. I immediately go into our yurt with Mogi to examine him more closely. “What’s happened?” asks Tanja excitedly. “The thing that wasn’t supposed to happen. Jack bit Mogi’s eye out.” “What? That can’t be!” exclaims Tanja, shocked. “But that’s the way it is. Look at that,” I say, trying to hold Mogi’s head. His left eye is full of blood and barely recognizable. The eye socket is torn to about half a centimeter, which is why it seems to be hanging at an angle. “For God’s sake. That looks terrible,” says Tanja. “Yes, if Mogi is unlucky he will have to make do with one eye in the future. Now Mogi has a slit ear, a bent ear and possibly a disfigured eye. If he carries on like this, he’ll become a zombie,” I say.
The next day Mogi’s eye is completely swollen shut and covered in pus. We decide to give him a course of antibiotics and fervently hope that we can save his eyesight
We look forward to your comments!
