They call me wolf / Diary of an expedition dog

It’s that time again – we’re at the station. Of course my humans are trembling and hoping that the trip will work out this time. I for one am confident, as long as my food is included. As Tanja walks with me to the compartment, I hear the conductor say Wolf. I turn around to see if there is another four-legged friend, a travel companion so to speak, but then I realize he means me. Well, being called a wolf isn’t the worst thing, but I also immediately get the impression that the guy likes me. Later on this trip, I often hear people calling me the wolf. I can’t wait to see what it will be like in Siberia. Maybe I’ll meet a few fellow wolves. Now nothing can stand in the way of our trip to Moscow. The compartment is big enough for the three of us. I even think it’s super cozy. It becomes unpleasant when the customs officers from Belarus enter our compartment. If I asked Denis, he would say the two ladies are beautiful. Also nice; just not to me, I have to wear a muzzle. A big dislike for my taste. In the middle of the night, another lady comes to check my European vaccination certificate. All right, the new stamp from the official veterinarian also helps for a relaxed entry. Phhh I’m glad, on the way to Moscow with my people, the shaking of the train lulls me to sleep and my world is in order.

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