A Chameleon (Chekhov)
Short summary
A market square in a Russian town. Police superintendent Otchumyelov was walking across the square when he heard shouting about a dog bite.
A crowd had gathered around a goldsmith named Hryukin, who displayed his bleeding finger and accused a white borzoi puppy of biting him. Otchumyelov immediately declared that the dog must be strangled and its owner fined. However, when someone suggested the dog might belong to General Zhigalov, Otchumyelov's attitude changed completely. He began making excuses for the dog and blamed Hryukin for provoking it.
When the policeman expressed doubt about the dog's ownership, Otchumyelov reversed his position again, condemning the dog as a stray that deserved to be destroyed. Then the General's cook arrived and revealed that the dog belonged to the General's visiting brother, Vladimir Ivanitch. Otchumyelov's demeanor transformed once more.
So this is his honour's dog? Delighted to hear it. . . . Take it. It's not a bad pup. . . . A lively creature. . . . Snapped at this fellow's finger! Ha-ha-ha.
Detailed summary
Division into sections is editorial.
The dog bite incident and Otchumyelovs investigation
On a quiet day in the market square, the police superintendent walked across the empty marketplace wearing a new overcoat and carrying a parcel under his arm. A red-haired policeman followed behind him, carrying a sieve full of confiscated gooseberries. The square was deserted, with open shop doors looking out disconsolately upon the world.
Suddenly, Otchumyelov heard a commotion. Someone shouted about biting being prohibited and called for help. The sound of a dog yelping reached his ears. Looking toward the noise, Otchumyelov saw a dog hopping on three legs running out of a timber-yard. A man in a starched cotton shirt with an unbuttoned waistcoat chased after the animal, fell forward, and seized it by the hind legs. More yelping and shouts of 'Don't let go!' followed. Sleepy faces appeared from shop windows, and soon a crowd gathered around the timber-yard as if springing from the earth itself.
The policeman informed Otchumyelov that it looked like a disturbance. The superintendent made a half turn to the left and strode toward the crowd.
Multiple reversals based on the dogs perceived ownership
At the gate of the timber-yard, Otchumyelov saw the man in the unbuttoned waistcoat standing with his right hand raised in the air, displaying a bleeding finger to the crowd. His half-drunken face clearly expressed revenge, and the finger itself looked like a flag of victory. Otchumyelov recognized the man as the goldsmith. The culprit, a white borzoy puppy with a sharp muzzle and a yellow patch on her back, sat on the ground with outstretched fore-paws, trembling all over. Misery and terror filled her tearful eyes.
Otchumyelov inquired about the situation, pushing through the crowd. Hryukin explained that he had been walking along peacefully, talking about firewood with someone, when the dog bit his finger for no reason. As a working man doing fine work, he demanded damages, claiming he wouldn't be able to use the finger for a week. He insisted it wasn't lawful to suffer from a beast, and if everyone were bitten, life wouldn't be worth living.
Otchumyelov responded sternly, coughing and raising his eyebrows. He declared he wouldn't let this pass and would teach people to let their dogs run everywhere.
I won't let this pass! I'll teach them to let their dogs run all over the place! It's time these gentry were looked after, if they won't obey the regulations!
He ordered Yeldyrin to find out whose dog it was and draw up a report. The dog must be strangled without delay, as it was surely mad. When someone in the crowd suggested it might belong to a general, Otchumyelov's demeanor changed instantly.
General Zhigalov's, h'm. . . . Help me off with my coat, Yeldyrin . . . it's frightfully hot! It must be a sign of rain. . . .
He suddenly questioned how the dog could have reached Hryukin's finger, suggesting the goldsmith must have scratched himself with a nail and invented the story to get damages. The policeman then stated with conviction that it wasn't the General's dog, as the General had mostly setters. Relieved, Otchumyelov agreed, describing the puppy as having no coat, no shape, and being a low creature. He declared they couldn't let the matter drop and must give someone a lesson.
However, the policeman reconsidered, thinking aloud that maybe it was the General's dog after all, as he had seen one like it in the General's yard the other day. A voice in the crowd confirmed it was certainly the General's. Otchumyelov's attitude shifted again.
H'm, help me on with my overcoat, Yeldyrin, my lad . . . the wind's getting up. . . . I am cold. . . .
He instructed Yeldyrin to take the dog to the General's and inquire there, saying he found it and sent it. They should be told not to let it out into the street, as it might be valuable, and if every swine stuck a cigar in its mouth, it would soon be ruined. He told Hryukin to put his hand down, calling him a blockhead and blaming him for the incident.
The revelation of true ownership and final reversal
At that moment, the General's cook approached. Otchumyelov asked him to look at the dog and confirm if it was one of theirs.
Prohor dismissed the idea, saying they had never had one like that. Otchumyelov declared there was no need to waste time asking or talking about it. Since the cook said it was a stray dog, it must be destroyed. However, Prohor continued, explaining that it wasn't their dog but belonged to the General's brother, who had arrived the other day. Their master didn't care for hounds, but his brother was fond of them.
Otchumyelov's entire face beamed with an ecstatic smile upon learning this news.
You don't say his Excellency's brother is here? Vladimir Ivanitch?... Well, I never! And I didn't know! Has he come on a visit?
He expressed delight at hearing this, saying he couldn't stay away from his brother. Otchumyelov declared it was his honor's dog and said he was delighted to hear it. He praised the pup as not bad, lively, and noted how it snapped at Hryukin's finger, laughing about it. He made growling sounds at the dog, calling it a rogue and a nice little pup. Prohor called the dog and walked away from the timber-yard with her. The crowd laughed at Hryukin. Otchumyelov threatened the goldsmith one last time, then wrapped himself in his greatcoat and continued on his way across the square.