The bear cubs Pusha and Vahmurka appeared in the zoo in the autumn, bringing with them trouble. Their mother had probably died in the spring, either from ill health or been hunted down. Tourists picked up the orphans and took them to the nearest village. A village veterinarian, a kind soul, sheltered the cubs in his shed for the amusement of his grandchildren and himself. At first, the little animals hid in the straw, fearing brooms, roosters and village cats, but soon the bear cubs grew up and began to eat like horses and show their teeth. As a result, their owner loaded them into his jeep and drove them to the city zoo. The zoo management were displeased with the situation, but in the end, they somehow found some free space in the bear enclosure. Year after year, the zoo director planned to issue an order banning the acceptance of wild animals found by the locals, in particular bears, wolves and foxes, but each time he postponed dealing with this problem.
The vet examined the animals and said that the new arrivals were healthy girls. The newcomers were given the names Pusha and Vahmurka. So they now had a new home.
The two sister bears were like peas in a pod. They were plump, fluffy and were so funny as they waddled when they walked. However, they had completely different personalities. Vahmurka was lazy and not at all curious. She was not interested in anything except her sister and food; she played a little and slept a lot, preparing for winter. Everyone in the zoo, from the janitors to the director, fell in love with the charming Pusha.
Cute bear cubs were not uncommon in the zoo and for the first year or two of their live they willingly hugged, made contact and played with people. Only time would reveal their dark savage animal nature. Still, there was something very charming about Pusha.
The little eyes of the teddy bear were gleaming with curiosity. She would extend her paws to people and ran towards those who entered, wagging her entire body. She used to lick their hands like a clumsy puppy, used to tuck her little muzzle under their armpits and poke their faces with her wet nose. And it wasn't just about treats. Pusha loved to eat, but she was extremely pleased to see visitors to the zoo. She was a natural born actress.
She would turn over her head, trying to catch her short tail, splash in the tub like a raccoon, roll an apple with her muzzle on the floor, get up on her hind legs and walk in front of the bars, just like a young lady at a village party. She tried to get her lazy sister Vahmurka to play catch. The visitors applauded her, and the little actress puffed with satisfaction, pocking her tongue out.
As bears normally do, Pusha and Vahmurka went into hibernation in December, and when they woke up, they were more grown up and terribly hungry. The janitor, Uncle Miha, had no doubt that the personalities of the sister-bears would turn nasty. Vahmurka became really grumpy. She growled at the brooms and water hoses, and once almost grappled with the vet. The cute Pusha had not changed at all, she only varied her program. Imitating the visitors, she learned to take a bow and wave her paw. Balls and balloons made the bear ecstatic.
Uncle Miha used to give Pusha milk from a wine bottle and hug her. They used to walk "arm in arm" in front of the zoo audience.
Thanks to these tricks, the fate of this young bear changed.
A wild animal tamer, Angelina, came to the zoo to get a tiger cub, but she did not like the stripey baby - he was frail and too timid to work for a circus.
The zoo director suggested that Angelina have a look at their “actress”: Pusha.
Bears in the circus were not unusual. They were willingly used in circus acts, but at the same time, they were disliked for their unexpected outbursts. In addition, the audience was starting to get sick of the bears. In spite of this, Angelina became interested in Pusha. Angelina came from a long line of tamers and her animal trainer instinct rarely betrayed her.
The zoo director didn’t ask too high a price. The carrying cage for the bear was brought in. The frightened Pusha was separated from her sister for the first time in her life.
At first, the bear rushed about and roared and shook the bars of the cage, and then she huddled up in a corner and covered her head with her paws just like a human being would. While she was being taken to the circus, the cage shook and vibrated for a long time; unfamiliar and fearful odors came through the bars. Finally, Pusha was brought to a noisy and unpleasant place. The bear refused to walk out through the open door, so they pulled her out with hooks. Her new cage was cramped and uncomfortable. The strong smell of other beasts confused Pusha. Loud sounds were like sandpaper on her ears: the neighing of many horses, the roar of the lion, the howling of monkeys, the barking of dogs, and the screech of trumpet music. What about the bears? Yes, very close to Pusha, a brown female bear calmly chewed her carrot, and in the cage opposite, a huge gray-haired male was watching closely. He growled softly, then grunted reassuringly, and Pusha felt a little better.
Angelina hadn't fed the bear for two days. She expected that Pusha would draw in her claws from hunger. Then the fearless Angelina entered the cage with a bowl full of apples and oranges. She wanted to feed the newcomer from the palm of her hand to tame her. Angelina was incredibly surprised when Pusha, yearning for the company of people, first ran to fawn on the woman, and only after having received her portion of attention, did the young bear begin to eat. The bear's behavior moved the experienced animal tamer to tears. She could easily bring about an animal's submission, but rarely met true affection. The bear's thick brown hair glittered pleasantly, and an intelligence was visible in her small eyes. Even Pusha's bearish “grace” fascinated Angelina.
“Well, let's see how you are in the arena, girl," Angelina thought.
Her first entrance into the circus ring shocked Pusha. She had gotten used to being protected by her cage and suddenly she found herself in a huge, empty, and brightly-illuminated space, stinking of dogs and lions. Her companions, Kazbek and Gerda, had already settled in their places, waiting for the orders of their trainer. Somehow, Angelina persuaded Pusha to climb on a pedestal, but at the first loud noise, the bear tried to escape. Kazbek helped Angelina; he blocked Pusha's passage with his massive body and returned her to her stand, carefully pushing her with his nose. Angelina did not force her; Pusha only had to watch her new teammates.
The phlegmatic Gerda reluctantly rode a kick scooter and walked listlessly with an umbrella and twirled it around, imitating a dance. Kazbek, however, worked hard. He got up on his front paws, grunting, caught hoops and rings, and presented Angelina with a basket of flowers. He dutifully spread out on the ground so the trainer could put her little white boot on his scruff. For this, the bear received praise and honey cookies. Pusha could smell something sweet, which made her excited. She wanted cookies too, but Angelina pretended that the new bear did not exist in the arena. The special treat had to be earned.
At the next rehearsal, Pusha allowed her trainer to put a fluffy skirt on her and fasten a hat on her head. Riding a kick scooter was a simple matter for her, and she had learned to dance well at the zoo. Angelina praised her talented student and gave her a tasty treat. After a couple of lessons, Pusha figured out how to diversify her circus act: after she had caught the hoop, she did not shake it off, but began to twist it. That was super funny. The circus attendants began to applaud. A dog trainer named Violetta, who was peeking through the slit in the curtain, turned green with envy.
Angelina kissed the bear on her satisfied-looking muzzle with a full heart. Happy Pusha snorted and began to bow in all four directions, causing another burst of laughter. Hulking Kazbek grumbled and stamped; his eyes glittered happily when he looked at Pusha. Gerda sat indifferently on her pedestal.
Pusha took a long time to get used to loud music, but the caresses and treats really helped. For Pusha's debut, Angelina chose a daytime performance on weekdays since she was afraid of the bear's very sensitive nature. Nevertheless, it went just fine. Pusha was dancing, twisting hoops, waving her paws in greeting and flirting with the audience. She loved the attention of the public. The second and third performances also went without a hitch. On the fourth, an excited spectator threw a huge bouquet to Angelina, which scared the hell out of Pusha and the bear threw up on her stand. Soon the loud people in the circus became normal, and Pusha did not cause any more trouble in the arena.
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
Adults and children, with whom she was photographed during intermissions, as well as ring attendants, dressers and cleaning ladies -- all of them loved Pusha. The bear did not snap at anyone, and did not try to bite anyone or hit them with her paw. When one day a curious raccoon ran up and climbed into her cage, attracted by the smell of sliced fruit, Pusha did not hurt the little thief. She allowed the circus attendants to cover the raccoon with a net and pull him out.
She memorized the schedule of rehearsals and performances. If for some reason she was not taken out to the arena by the appointed time, she would shake the bars and snort huffily. Angelina visited her star every day. She brought her sweets, personally combed out her hair, talked to her like a best friend, and sometimes took her out to walk around the circus tent at night. Angelina was really attached to the bear.
Soon Gerda was taken away from the circus. Pusha, who had dozed off after lunch, woke up to a terrible roar and saw her partner being dragged with hooks into a carriage. Kazbek tried to attack the people through the bars, hoping to defend Gerda. It was all in vain. People always get what they want.
After that, Angelina did not appear in the circus for several days. She returned pale, tired and irritable. The gloomy Kazbek, in response to Angelina's harshness during the rehearsal, also began to growl and even swung his paw at the woman a couple of times. Pusha, on the other hand, tried to comfort and please her beloved human by rolling in the sawdust and shoving Angelina with her muzzle as if telling her: “Do not lose heart”. Pusha hoped that soon everything would go back to normal. But it did not. The obedient Pusha received more and more attention from her trainer Angelina, but the older bear developed problems. Kazbek became capricious, worked slowly and reluctantly. Sometimes he did not listen to Angelina's commands, and one day he just got up and walked back to his cage right in the middle of the performance. Angelina shouted angrily at the bear and swung a whip at him. The trainer should never beat her animals, but at that moment, she was ready to do so.
After a while, two young bears, named Tupa and Boy, were brought from the north. The bears did not show any special talents, but they behaved well. The hardworking Pusha helped them try harder. She nudged them with her nose and scolded them if they were naughty. The young bears soon joined the circus act. Angelina almost stopped taking Kazbek for rehearsals. A couple of times, the old bear gained access to the arena, but Angelina no longer paid attention to him. She did not praise him and did not feed him cookies. The poor fellow was forsaken.
The new act “Three on Three Wheels” was perfected during rehearsals. Tupa and Boy learned to ride unicycles around the arena whilst chasing Pusha in a white tutu. The prima donna, Pusha was soon given compliments and treats. Angelina praised her, took pictures with the bear for the papers and promised her a great future. The bear was doing her best.
One day, when Pusha returned after a long rehearsal, she found the cage opposite her empty. The floor had been washed and the straw had been changed. Only a faint scent remained of Kazbek.
That same night, Pusha had a nightmare of a carriage in which people were dragging Gerda with hooks. They were ripping her skin to shreds, yelling, and snapping their long horsewhips ... However, this was no longer Gerda, but rather an image of Pusha herself who was clinging to the bars of the cage with her claws. Angelina was calmly standing nearby, playing with a chain while whistling a circus march...
However, opening the cage's lock turned out to be easy for Pusha. Sneaking past the sleepy watchman was like taking candy from her sister Vahmurka.
The bear was nearly overwhelmed by the sharp odors of the city. Her sensitive nose caught the bitter creosote stench of the railroad’s sleepers mixed with the smells of gasoline and iron. She did not know the way, but she could follow the call of her heart.
For a little over two months, Pusha had been venturing out at night, trying not to stray too from the railway. She ate whatever she could find in the garbage dumps. Pusha tried not to go too deep into the forest. The smells of the wild wood attracted her, but it frightened her at the same time. The bear did not remember her wild free life and did not seek to find it again. She just wanted to go back to her enclosure at the zoo.
Three times she had to fight off packs of wild dogs, with one such fight costing her an ear. She was about to be shot and she had some pellets under her skin. Soon, Pusha became emaciated. The pads of her paws were left damage by asphalt of the highway and gravel; her wounds festered and her stomach ached.
She was chilled to the bone from long cold rains and more and more often fell into a doze. The air smelled of winter and death. Just a little while more and her journey would forever be over.
She got caught in the suburbs. One day, Pusha was hungrier than she had ever been and broke into a bakery. She started to beg for food, stretching her paws over the counter. The buyers were running away screaming, the saleswoman locked herself in the back room, and someone called the police. The troublemaker was about to be shot, but a compassionate police captain noted the unusual behavior of the bear. “She has run away from the zoo, for sure," he thought. Pusha was fed with stale bread and given vodka mixed with condensed milk. Then they tied the sleepy bear up, loaded her into a jeep, and Pusha was taken away to her zoo.
It was hard to recognize the ex-star of the zoo in her emaciated, shabby state, but the janitor, Uncle Micha, did. The vet examined her wounds and applied bandages. Pusha was quarantined for two weeks. There she grew fat and went into hibernation.
When Pusha woke up, she found herself next to her sister. The phlegmatic Vahmurka slowly licked Pusha's muzzle and then they went to lie in the sun together, as if they had never been apart.
The tamer Angelina came to the zoo in the summer. She was looking for new bear cubs for her show and, upon learning the runaway prima donna had returned to the zoo, she wanted to take Pusha back for her circus act. The zoo director refused her briefly and rather rudely, “Animals do not run away from good owners.”
Angelina shouted at him and threatened him with a court case, but in the end, she had to leave empty-handed. Angelina looked into the bear enclosure just before leaving the zoo. Pusha pretended not to recognize her ex-handler.
The bear became withdrawn and distrustful after all that she had been through. Although she did not hurt the zookeepers, she did not obey them either. To draw her out of her cage to clean it or to carry out her physical examination was difficult work; her behavior was unpredictable. Only Uncle Miha could manage to get Pusha to go to the nearby aviary with the help of cookies and gentle words.
It seemed that she had lost interest in tricks, but bravura music from the loudspeaker sometimes awakened her memories. The zoo director saw the four-legged artist was dancing and stomping to the music.
Pusha became touchingly tender with her sister; now she shared her treats with Vahmurka, slept next to her, and called her to wrestle in the dust. The marks of her wounds were hidden in her thick and shiny fur. The visitors to the zoo considered Pusha the most beautiful among bears and willingly treated her to sweets. There were always crowds of people at her cage, and photos of the club-footed sisters were posted in local newspapers many times.
Sometimes at night, Pusha put on shows for the amusement of her neighbors, the wild animals and zoo cats. She balanced on a log, juggled with an orange, danced a waltz, walked on her front paws and did other funny things. She loved the attention of the public.
Now the bear has grown old, has acquired gray hair and a paunch, but she is still considered the most beautiful bear. So, if you're in the mood to go to the zoo and visit the actress Pusha, don't forget to bring cookies!
THE END
"Bears on Wheels" from the series "Fairy Tales of the Old Zoo" by Nika Bathen
Translated from Russian by Invir Lazarev-2024