There is an isolated farmstead near the village of Bolshoye Dolzhenkovo not far from Kursk where the feathered race and the tailed one feel at ease: Fancy to go to a grass patch to graze or to swim in a pond? No problem. If not, have a rest in a shadow. Nobody struggles for fodder and big ones do not pick on small ones. The peace of the place is guarded by shepherd dogs. Even a wolf in this whole caboodle is one of them.
It is four o'clock in the morning. Vasiliy Grebennikov is already up. He drives a herd of horses out to the field, unlocks sheep, cows and bulls, and feeds poultry and rabbits. Wolf Vulya is glad to see the master except for wagging his tail – noblesse oblige, so to speak. On the contrary, a jolly pack of dogs is rushing toward him with a ruckus. It is something to see: the headcount of St. Bernard dogs, Rottweilers, Great Danes and Shepherds who were given a home here is over 40 already. But the animal farm itself that was put under canine guardianship has grown noticeably. The farmstead is home to 250 hoofed mammals, whereas geese, ducks, hens and chickens are even three times more numerous than this. Farmer Vasiliy is surprised himself because when eight years ago he just came into ownership of a half-ruined cowshed with adjacent former lands of Pobeda kolkhoz (collective farm "Victory") all his livestock could be counted on one hand.
Everything comes from childhood, including a love for wildlife. It is so with the hero of our story: he demonstrates a constant attachment to the peasant roots that have been many generations deep in Kursk soil. His father was a ranger in a collective farm, and although his mother was a factory worker she had always kept livestock at home. "I remember when mother put me on a horse for the first time; I was six years old then," Grebennikov recollects. "And all of a sudden, the female horse bolted like hell! I seized its mane, truly, I nearly freaked out. Turned out, kids from the village frightened it."
When he grew a bit, he started helping a horseman. He used to spend long hours with horses out in the fields. It looks like nothing has changed ever since: they attract him like soul mates. He has thirty trotters, but his favourite is the one that keeps away from the herd: Mirage, a blooded Arabian stallion. In the past, the native of Kursk used to saddle other horses – the iron ones. He got his driving licence when he was in the army in then Soviet Ukraine. Then he worked as a driver for 20 years after the army service. He transported grain, beet roots and hay. It was fun time; everybody wanted to be like Stakhanov, a Soviet overachiever, and everybody worked with fervour. And even today, either out of habit or, rather, following an inner call, Vasiliy overachieves in all thinkable jobs in animal farming. Nothing compares to his private household in the vicinity.
Sometimes, when it is late in the evening, villagers, living near the farm, get startled – they hear howling, a real wolf howling! And the howling comes not from a forest but from the Vasiliy's farmstead. Hunters brought him a wolf cub three years ago. He mothered the puppy. The wolf now dwells in a crate. "God, he loves to play like a mongrel!" Grebennikov says laughing. He pets him and walks him on a leash. When he is out, the other animals keep silent and warily keep away. Vulya lets only his master and a veterinarian approach himself.
A husky called Volchitsa ("She-wolf") knows best of all how it feels to live aside with a wolf – they have been friends since puppyhood and they practically eat out of the same dish. As for menu selection, Volchitsa is a squeamish character as well – it eats only meat. However, the other dogs will not turn up their noses at bread or porridge. "I cook two 40-litre pots for them for one day to eat," Mikhail Goncharov, a farm labourer says while catching a break from food preparation. "We use any organics for food: flour, grains, meat waste and potatoes." He is responsible for ample feeding of all farm dwellers.
It is hay cutting time now. They need to stock up to seven hundred 250-300-kg hay bales. It is not a job for one person but fortunately he has helpers: daughter Katya and three sons. The eldest is 20 now. He studies journalism in Mariupol (Ukraine) and goes in for basketball professionally. Where to spend university holidays and breaks is not a dilemma for him. "Where I live now, everything is not the same: clouds, land, air... Home, sweet home..." he says and ponders for a second. "Come here in winter to see how fluffy Vulya will become; we will give you a ride on a sled! Look no further for such great spaces as we have here."
Alex is 12. He follows in his father's steps – let him drive a car and that's that. When their water well was not drilled yet, he brought water from a pond for animals on an UAZ car. Whenever they plan to clear the road from snow, he is the first to hop in the tractor.
Vladik is knee-high to a grasshopper, only three years old, but he is also attracted by the farm. What those children's books are to him when his Daddy's farm is like a real fairy scene: the farm full of various animals features cats and chicken skipping on the backs of huge dogs who do not seem to care; Staffordshire Terrier Terry bites at Hound Lada's fleas; Zhenyok, a chestnut colt, snuggles up to you as if you were its mother; and sheep roam about the yard peacefully. Peace and harmony.
"You know, once a wild swan was our guest for three weeks," Vasiliy Grebennikov suddenly recollects, beaming with joy. "As usually, geese walked toward the pond. When they came back, lo and behold, what's that voyager with them? Generally, storks and swans often use our pond as a watering hole but this character decided to linger at the farm. Perhaps, it liked it at the Daddy's!"
