Short Life of the Dog Called Lord /Photo: Viktor Fischer, Afisphoto, 1997 - 1998/
The life in a farm means living together with the nature more than anywhere else, together with the seasons, weather, animals. Not just the domestic animals but also those kept for joy, those that have been the companions of men for centuries… The dog called Lord was brought to the farm when he was about a year old, he was mere bag of bones supposed to be put to death. Two months later it was sill possible to count his ribs. The best dog in the world, infinitely grateful for the rescue from tribulations. It took a few months before he was brave enough to leave the grounds of the farm with his master, he always used to stop after a few steps and returned home, he did not want to leave the safe home and go somewhere, where he was brought from. After some time he calmed down, got used to new environment; people and all the activities around him became part of his dog’s life. He was everywhere and nowhere, as if he was helping everybody with the energy of his hulking body in their everyday bustle. Whenever I came he was the first one to great me with enthusiasm a I looked forward to seeing him. A year went by. When I came to the farm last time, Lord did not great me. With his new and so far unknown feeling of freedom he got lost in a nearby forest and got shot by a gamekeeper.