‘One of Kraków’s greatest glories is a dog statue’, says Webber’s World
Visit Wawel Castle and it’s hard not to be swept away by its sheer and overwhelming majesty; similarly, it’s equally difficult not to be swept away by the zombie-like throng of marching tourists.
Perhaps it is because of these factors that one of the area’s finest sights frequently falls under-the-radar. You see, whilst it has been the subject of films, documentaries and books, you’d be surprised just how many people completely overlook one the district’s greatest glories.
Located a stone’s throw from the castle’s ramparts (and, should it add to the attraction, within a whistle of a rather brilliant English ale pub), the monument recalls the life of Dżok, a mongrel who was rescued from a shelter by an elderly known only as Mr. Nikodem.
So, what is this treasure that I speak of? A sacred goblet? A glimmering jewel? No, something far better – it is, of course, a statue of a dog.
Located a stone’s throw from the castle’s ramparts (and, should it add to the attraction, within a whistle of a rather brilliant English ale pub), the monument recalls the life of Dżok, a mongrel who was rescued from a shelter by an elderly known only as Mr. Nikodem.
In between romping around Kraków’s many parks, he is also said to have become somewhat of a hero. Apocryphal as it may be, it was said that one time his barking alerted residents of Mr. Nikodem’s tenement to a fire.
Described as ‘a bit like a wolfhound’ by some portals, and ‘a mix between a rottweiler and Doberman’ by others, Dżok’s new lease of life could not have been happier.
However, in between romping around Kraków’s many parks, he is also said to have become somewhat of a hero. Apocryphal as it may be, it was said that one time his barking alerted residents of Mr. Nikodem’s tenement to a fire.
After Mr. Nikodem was taken to hospital with a heart attack, the confused Dżok returned to the spot where his master had fallen and remained there.
Yet others, meanwhile, have credited Dżok with leading a girl that had got lost home from school.
Unfortunately, life’s cruel hand was to deal an unexpected blow. Although accounts vary as to the year (some say 1990, others 1991), all agree that it was while out walking in the area of Rondo Grunwaldzki that Mr. Nikodem keeled over clutching his chest.
Suffering a heart attack, Mr. Nikodem was whisked away in an ambulance as medics tried, in vain, to revive him.
After briefly giving chase to the ambulance, the confused Dżok returned to the spot where his master had fallen and remained there.
Such had been the unbreakable bond between Mr. Nikodem and Dżok, the faithful mutt continued to stay on that very spot for a year, to the point that he soon became almost a feature of the landscape.
Such had been the unbreakable bond between Mr. Nikodem and Dżok, the faithful mutt continued to stay on that very spot for a year, to the point that he soon became almost a feature of the landscape.
When attempts were made to catch him, he would simply scamper off before returning to maintain his vigil. Soon, word spread and TV crews and locals alike would gather to film him from afar.
Fed by conscientious citizens, Dżok eventually built a new connection with one of these benefactors – Maria Muller, the widow of Władysław, a concentration camp survivor known for his work with Polskie Radio.
Dżok was eventually killed by a tram, prompting many to speculate that he chose intentionally to commit suicide.
With trust firmly established, he eventually went to live with her and Kajtek, her other dog, in a nearby apartment on Dietla street.
Such was his celebrity, Mrs. Muller and Dżok appeared on various local news shows, however, the story would not have a happy ending. On April 6th, 1998, Muller passed away and Dżok was again left bereaved.
Regarded as an icon of the city, for years locals campaigned for a monument and, after initial resistance, the city bowed to public pressure.
Reputedly sensing that he would be taken away, Dżok bolted when representatives from an animal shelter arrived. His disappearance sparked a city-wide hunt and for days it is claimed that the story dominated the local press.
Sadly, he would not be recaptured. Despite being familiar with the dangers posed by trams, Dżok would ultimately be killed by one, prompting many to speculate that he chose intentionally to commit suicide.
The work of the eminent sculptor Bronisław Chromy (whose credits include the Wawel Dragon), the memorial was unveiled on May 26th, 2001, with the ceremony attended by a string of celebrities and figureheads such as the model-actress Agata Buzek, the musician Zbigniew Wodecki and the Mayor, Andrzej Gołas.
Regarded as an icon of the city, for years locals campaigned for a monument and, after initial resistance, the city bowed to public pressure.
The work of the eminent sculptor Bronisław Chromy (whose credits include the Wawel Dragon), the memorial was unveiled on May 26th, 2001, with the ceremony attended by a string of celebrities and figureheads such as the model-actress Agata Buzek, the musician Zbigniew Wodecki and the Mayor, Andrzej Gołas.
Depicting a dog being sheltered by a pair of giant hands, the dual-language inscription reads: “Dżok, the dog – the most faithful canine friend ever, epitomizing a dog’s boundless devotion to his master.”
Fittingly, though, it was not these notables that officially christened the statue, but rather a German Shepherd specifically trained for the occasion.
Depicting a dog being sheltered by a pair of giant hands, the dual-language inscription reads: “Dżok, the dog – the most faithful canine friend ever, epitomizing a dog’s boundless devotion to his master.”
Continuing to briefly summarise his life, there can be few monuments in Poland that carry the same emotive impact as the one dedicated to Dżok.
