Reading to children about service dogs. Essay on my favorite animal dog

In the deep autumn I had a rest on the Volga near Saratov. A huge shepherd dog lived loosely at a nearby recreation center. Every morning she ran to the house where I lived to get "breakfast" from me. She knew that I would always have food for her.
One evening I was walking past the base where this shepherd lived, and I saw that she was lying not far from the road and was carefully watching me. I called out to her as if greeting her and continued to walk towards my house. When I caught up with her, she suddenly got up, jumped on me and bit me painfully.

All evening I wondered about the reason for such an ungrateful act. And he was completely surprised when he saw the dog again the next morning at his door. Then, it seems, he understood yesterday's incident: despite a close acquaintance, the shepherd dog strictly observed its watchdog functions and vigilantly guarded the territory entrusted to it.

thief

I will tell you about another dog that lived with my friend. This dog was very beautiful and smart, but when left alone in the house, it became uncontrollable. Left to her own devices, she tore curtains, gnawed furniture, ruined carpets. The hostess understood that this was how her pet expressed her anger at the forced loneliness, and could not do anything with her.

For some time now, shiny small things began to disappear in the apartment: gold rings, chains, earrings. Even the little gold watch was gone somewhere. There were no strangers in the house, and the search did not lead to anything.

Meanwhile, further living with the dog became unbearable and the woman decided to give it to other hands.
After the new owner took the four-legged friend, the hostess decided to do a general cleaning in the apartment. Under the carpet that lay on the floor, she discovered all her losses.

Rich is a jealous dog

Rich is a huge dog with thick black hair. At the bottom of his paws are painted light brown and it seems that he put on beautiful socks for style. He has an unusual pedigree: his mother is a real she-wolf, found in the mountains as a small animal and raised at home, and his father is a shepherd. Despite such formidable parents, Rich in general dog kind. She always treats my arrival kindly and even wags her tail as a sign of special disposition.

Once I came to the hostess of the house for her birthday and she hugged me in joy. "Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr" came a sudden sound behind me. I turned around and saw a menacing grin growling at me. Apparently, he did not like the too warm welcome given to me by the hostess, and I had to calm him down.
Rich followed me all evening, and when everyone sat down at the table, he settled down at my feet. Peace was achieved only when I treated him to something delicious.

The next time Rich saw me, he growled again. Noticing, however, that no one was showing warm feelings towards me, he quickly calmed down.
Why do you think he behaved this way? He was jealous of me for his mistress.

Puppy

When I was still at school, we were given a beautiful puppy. He had a broad muzzle with large eyes, thick short paws and dark thick fur.

Our new lodger was very fond of boiled potatoes and milk. After the meal, he minced on his mat. After a while, he began to respond to the name that we gave him. The puppy grew quickly, and became so fat that it looked like a barrel.

Once he whined all morning, and then lay down in his place and fell silent. I thought he choked on a bone and opened his mouth, but he bit my finger. And he didn't make another sound. After a while he died.

They took the miserable dog to the veterinary clinic. There, the doctor opened the body and found that the entire abdomen was full of worms. And four long worms stuck out even in the throat. They strangled the poor puppy.

King

When we lived in the city of Starodub, in the Bryansk region, we had a small garden with fruit trees. So that the ripened fruits would not be stolen, the garden had to be guarded, and for this purpose we were given a dog. Or rather, a puppy. On the same day I built a wooden kennel for him, set it up in the yard, and tied the puppy to it for the night. In the morning he was not there. They stole it.
Of course, we were sad, and in the evening we went to visit relatives. We told them about our loss, and they offered us their dog, nicknamed Lady. The lady was small, similar in muzzle and red fur coat to a fox.

They brought her home, tied her up, and went into the rooms themselves. After a while I go out to visit - there is no Lady. A rope with a collar is lying on the ground - which means that she herself got out of the collar and ran away. However, she soon returned, and we fed her. And the next time, when she wanted to take a walk, she easily left her collar and again ran back.
The lady was a quiet dog, did not bark, but we wanted her voice to be heard far beyond the fence. At night, however, she slept peacefully, and we had to guard the garden.

Once, however, the Lady broke off her leash, rushed at an elderly woman and tore her dress. But that only brought us trouble.

Sometimes our "guard" would run away for a few days, and after that she would appear thin, hungry and wagging her tail guiltily. Somehow she ran away once again and did not return - we did not see her again.

Angry dog

It happened in Kazakhstan, where I once lived. I had to get into one house, but a huge angry dog ​​lived in his yard. No matter how much I knocked on the window that overlooked the street, no one answered. From the house, meanwhile, came voices. What to do, how to enter the house?

I thought that dogs, no matter how evil they are, also have fear, like people. He opened the gate and entered the yard. The terrible dog with a wild bark rushed at me, but the chain holding him made it impossible to approach me. However, I still could not go into the house - then I would have to close the distance between me and the dog, and she could grab me with her teeth. But I made up my mind: I began to approach the house very slowly. The dog got even angrier. Before him there was very little, and I came closer and closer. And suddenly he... backed away from me! I took another step. Now the dog could bite me if he wanted to, but he continued to move back. Until I drove him completely into a kennel.

A story about a pet. Berta is my favorite dog.

Guess the riddle:
She guards the border
On the trail of a crook will catch
They let her in where it's hot
And the name is German ... (shepherd)
The German Shepherd is versatile. It can equally well serve as a companion dog, security, protective, detective, service and guard dog. Successfully used in animal husbandry as a shepherd dog. More often than other breeds it is used in the service in the army, in the police, for the protection of state borders.

According to some information German Shepherd is not monogamous and quickly gets used to the new owner, but ... I personally do not believe in it. For example, in the city of Togliatti, a Monument of Devotion is erected - a monument to a dog that has been patiently waiting for its owners for 7 whole years. The dog was a German Shepherd.

dog stories

Page 3

I was on the bus. At one stop, a dog came in the front door, walked across the bus, and settled under an empty seat. When the required stop was announced, the dog went out in a first-come-first-served manner. People on the bus began to talk: "What a smart dog ...". To which the conductor replied: "She travels this route every Friday, there is a kiosk with shawarma near this stop and on Fridays they throw out the leftovers."

I'm coming from work. I want to eat, it's unbearable. I understand that I will not make it home. I went to the food stall and bought some sandwich. I stand, I chew. A dog sits next to me and looks at me with sad eyes. I took pity on her, tore off a piece of sandwich and threw it on the ground. And she sniffed him, poked her nose into him, and did not even try! I looked at all this, then at the sandwich that I had in my hands, and somehow I immediately got sick of eating it - you never know, I think what it was made of that even a dog won’t eat! I threw it into the nearest trash can, and went.

I turn around and what do I see? This cunning beast climbed into the trash can, pulled out my sandwich and calmly eats it up! That's it! This dog needs to go to college, to teach applied psychology there!

Dad told a case from practice when he worked as a district police officer. We went out to detain especially dangerous criminals, took a bunch of people with them, even took one dog handler with a shepherd Jack.

They ring the doorbell, they open the standard "neighbors from below." The dog, apparently, felt the beginning of the operation and rushed ahead of all the participants. Only the corpulent district police officer Zhenya from the neighboring district blocked her way. A hefty dog ​​crawled between his legs and rushed into the apartment. However, Zhenya, out of surprise, sat on Jack's back. So they drove into the brothel - district police officer Zhenya, brandishing service weapons and uttering heart-rending obscene cries, riding the fearless Jack.

Batya says that he had never seen hardened criminals sob with laughter before. On that day, even handcuffs did not come in handy.

I'm going to visit a friend one day. They have a wonderful courtyard - closed, on one side there is an arch, on the other a path. I enter along the path and see: a huge dog, either a black terrier or a Moscow watchdog, is carrying a small child in its teeth. What to do? Freezing in horror, I am preparing to squeal in a voice that is not my own, but the dog calmly puts the child in the sandbox, where two more of the same are swarming. And he himself fits next to him - his muzzle on his paws, like he is dozing.

The second kid, looking back at the dog, gets out of the sandbox and slaps to the arch - it’s so interesting there: people, cars, a busy street ... The dog watches from under shaggy eyebrows. When there are 5 baby steps left before the arch, the dog gets up, catches up with the "violator" in two jumps, takes it by the hood, takes it to the sandbox and lies down again ... The border is locked!

The fact that many dogs, even stray ones, cross the green road with people has long been known, I have seen it myself many times. But what happened today, I saw for the first time.

A pack of four dogs runs up to the crossroads. The red light is already on, but the cars haven't started yet. One young dog is eager to run across, but another, larger and wiser by experience, quietly, but authoritatively, barks at him. The young one obediently returns and waits with the others until the green light turns on, and then the whole pack calmly and leisurely crosses the roadway. Apparently, even dogs are smarter than some people who run through red lights in the hope of saving a couple of extra seconds.

We have an addition to the family that no one expected. The culprit was our Cocker Spaniel Misha. He brought a cat into the house!

This story lasted for a week. Misha and I go out for a walk, and then a cat comes out to us from somewhere. And yesterday he flatly refused to go home, ran up to me, then to the cat. Then I said, "Well, call her too." And the dog really somehow called her, because they already went to the entrance together.

There was a time when we were teaching our dog all sorts of tricks right in the apartment. For example, a good exercise is to bring the ball. The daughter is sitting on the couch, with a ball in her hand, goodies in the box, and sliced ​​carrots as goodies, from which our dog just drags himself. The daughter throws the ball, the dog is in no hurry to run, traces where the ball rolled, and then goes to get it. He returns with a sad muzzle: they say, she could not get it. The daughter goes to look for the ball, the dog, as it were, goes with her. But when the daughter returns with the ball, she sees how the dog calmly eats a carrot from the box. So, who is training whom?

Yesterday with a friend, after drinking two liters of beer, we decided that it would be very funny to paint my Dalmatian red with henna. No sooner said than done. Rushed to the supermarket, bought two bags of henna. And they painted it. How they painted it is a separate story, because the dog did not really like the coloring procedure. But the effect exceeded all expectations - we really got a leopard. That is White color painted over, but black spots remained.

And in the morning on the first walk was just a sensation. He walks with me without a leash, and people just shied away from him with demands to remove this creature. No one believed in all the explanations that it was a dog!

One man installed a special system so that his dog would not run away from the site: a fence with sensors and a special collar. The essence of the device is that when approaching the fence, the collar starts to squeak, and if the dog runs out of bounds, then it will be hit by a weak discharge of current.

One day we got a puppy. And, despite his young age, he was already knee-high in height (now this monster freely looks into a person’s eyes, standing on its hind legs). In general, we put a collar on him, but we didn’t have time to bring him up. And the little one fled somewhere for the whole day. In the evening he returned home, and a note stuck in his collar: "You don't have to feed him. He has already gobbled up our slippers. Your neighbors."

A story about a cheerful and kind dog Tuzik. And why potato dog? Find out by reading this interesting story.

A story for younger students to read in kindergarten, for family reading.

Potato dog. Author: Yuri Koval

My uncle, Akim Ilyich Kolybin, worked as a potato warehouse guard at the Tomilino station near Moscow. In his potato position he kept many dogs.

However, they themselves molested him somewhere in the market or at the kiosk "Juices - Waters". From Akim Ilyich, in a businesslike way, he smelled of shag, potato peels and chrome boots. And the tail of a smoked bream often stuck out of the pocket of his jacket.

Sometimes five or six dogs gathered in the warehouse, and every day Akim Ilyich boiled cast-iron potatoes for them. In summer, this whole pack wandered around the warehouse, frightening passers-by, and in winter the dogs liked to lie on warm, rotting potatoes.

At times, Akim Ilyich was attacked by a desire to get rich. He then took one of his watchmen on a string and led him to sell to the market. But there was no case that he rescued at least a ruble. He returned to the warehouse with offspring. In addition to his shaggy goods, he also brought some Kubik, who had nowhere to stumble.

In spring and summer, I lived not far from Tomilin, in a summer cottage garden plot. This plot was small and empty, and there was neither a garden nor a dacha on it - two Christmas trees grew, under which stood a barn and a samovar on a stump.

And all around, behind the blank fences, real country life was in full swing: gardens bloomed, summer kitchens smoked, hammocks creaked.

Akim Ilyich often came to visit me and always brought potatoes, which by the spring were overgrown with white mustaches.

— Apples, not potatoes! he praised his gift. — Antonovka!

We boiled potatoes, made a samovar, and sat for a long time on the logs, watching how a new gray and curly tree grows between the trees - samovar smoke.

"You should get a dog," said Akim Ilyich. “It’s boring to live alone, but a dog, Yura, is a man’s friend. Do you want me to bring you Tuzik? Here is a dog! Teeth - in! Baska - in!

- What kind of name is Tuzik? Some kind of lethargic. Should have called it better.

"Tuzik is a good name," Akim Ilyich argued. - It's the same as Peter or Ivan. And then they will call the dog Dzhana or Zherya. What kind of Zherya - I do not understand.

I met Tuzik in July.

The nights were warm, and I got used to sleeping on the grass, in a sack. Not in a sleeping bag, but in an ordinary one, from under the potato. It was sewn from strong porous canvas for what is probably the best potato of the Lorch variety. For some reason it was written on the bag: "Pichugin". Of course, I washed the bag before sleeping in it, but I could not remove the inscription.

And so I once slept under the trees in a Pichugin bag.

Morning had already come, the sun had risen over the gardens and dachas, but I did not wake up, and I had an absurd dream. Like a barber soaping my cheeks for a shave. The hairdresser did his job too hard, so I opened my eyes.

I saw a terrible “hairdresser”.

Above me hung a black and shaggy dog ​​face with yellow eyes and a gaping mouth in which sugar fangs were visible. The dog stuck out its tongue and licked my face.

I screamed, jumped to my feet, but immediately fell, entangled in the bag, and the “hairdresser” jumped on me and affectionately beat me in the chest with cast-iron paws.

- This is a present for you! shouted Akim Ilyich from somewhere on the side. - Call Tuzik!

I never spat so much as I did that morning, and I never washed my face so furiously. And while I was washing, a gift - Tuzik - jumped on me and finally knocked the soap out of my hands.

He was so happy to meet, as if we had known each other before.

"Look," said Akim Ilyich, and mysteriously, like a magician, he took a raw potato out of his pocket.

He threw a potato, and Tuzik deftly caught it on the fly and ate it right in the peel. Starchy potato juice trickled down his cavalry moustache.

The tuzik was big and black. Mustache, eyebrow, beard. In these thickets, two inextinguishable yellow eyes burned and an eternally gaping wet, fanged maw gaped.

To terrify people - that was his main occupation.

Having eaten potatoes, Tuzik lay down at the gate, lying in wait for random passers-by. Noticing a passer-by from afar, he hid in dandelions and jumped out at the right moment with a monstrous roar. When a member of the dacha cooperative fell into tetanus, Tuzik joyfully fell to the ground and laughed to tears, rolling on his back.

To warn passers-by, I decided to nail the inscription to the fence: "Beware of the angry dog." But I thought that it was weakly said, and so I wrote:

CAREFULLY! POTATO DOG!

These strange, mysterious words set the mood in a frightened way. Potato dog - what a horror!

In the dacha village, a rumor soon spread that the potato dog was a dangerous thing.

- Uncle! - the children shouted from afar, when I was walking with Tuzik. Why is it potato?

In response, I took a potato out of my pocket and threw Tuzika. He deftly, like a juggler, caught it on the fly and instantly gnawed it. Starchy juice trickled down his cavalry moustache.

Less than a week later, our adventure began.

One evening we were walking along the dacha highway. Just in case, I kept Tuzik on a leash.

The highway was deserted, only one figure was moving towards them. It was an old grandmother in a handkerchief painted with cucumbers, with a shopping bag in her hand.

When she caught up with us, Acey suddenly clicked his teeth and clutched at the shopping bag. I jerked the leash in fright - Tuzik bounced off, and we were about to go further, when suddenly a quiet cry was heard behind me:

- Sausage!

I looked at Tuzik. A huge loaf of sausage stuck out of his mouth. Not a stroller, but a thick loaf boiled sausage similar to an airship.

I grabbed a sausage, hit Tuzik on the head with it, and then bowed to the old woman from a distance and put the sausage loaf on the highway, spreading a handkerchief.

By nature, Tuzik was a reveler and a hoarder. He did not like to sit at home and ran all day long wherever he had to. Having run over, he always brought something home: a children's shoe, sleeves from a padded jacket, a rag woman for a teapot. He put all this at my feet, wanting to please me. Honestly, I did not want to upset him and always said:

- Well done! Hey thrifty owner!

But one day Tuzik brought home a chicken. It was a white chicken, absolutely dead.

Terrified, I rushed around the site and did not know what to do with the chicken. Every second, dying, I looked at the gate: here comes the angry owner.

Time passed, but the owner of the chicken was not there. But Akim Ilyich appeared.

Smiling heartily, he walked from the gate with a sack of potatoes over his shoulders. This is how I remember him all my life: smiling, with a bag of potatoes over his shoulders.

Akim Ilyich threw off the sack and picked up the chicken.

"Fatty," he said, and immediately slammed Tuzik's chicken in the ears.

The blow turned out to be weak, but Tuzik the deceiver whined and groaned, fell on the grass, and wept fake dog tears.

- Will you or not?

Acey raised his paws plaintively and made exactly the same mournful face that a clown in a circus has when he is deliberately slapped on the nose. But under the shaggy eyebrows shone a cheerful and impudent eye, ready to wink every second.

- Understood or not? said Akim Ilyich angrily, poking a chicken in his nose.

Acey turned away from the chicken, and then ran two steps away and buried his head in the sawdust heaped under the workbench.

- What to do with her? I asked.

Akim Ilyich hung the hen under the roof of the barn and said:

Let's wait until the owner arrives.

Acey soon realized that the storm had passed. Snorting with sawdust, he rushed to kiss Akim Ilyich, and then rushed around the site in a whirlwind and several times fell to the ground with delight and rolled on his back.

Akim Ilyich put a board on the workbench and began to plan it with a jointer. He worked easily and beautifully - the jointer glided over the board like a long ship with a crooked pipe.

The sun warmed hard, and the chicken under the roof was suffocating. Akim Ilyich looked uneasily at the sun, which was setting towards dinner, and said meaningfully:

- The chicken is rotten!

Thug Tuzik lay down under the workbench, lazily sticking out his tongue. Juicy shavings fell on him, hung on his ears and on his beard.

- The chicken is rotten!

- So what to do?

"We need to pluck the chicken," said Akim Ilyich and winked at me.

And Acey winked amiably from under the workbench.

- Start a fire, brother. Here's the kindling shavings for you.

While I was fiddling with the fire, Akim Ilyich plucked the chicken, and soon soup began to boil in the pot. I stirred it with a long spoon and tried to wake my conscience, but it was dozing in the depths of my soul.

"Let's dine like people," said Akim Ilyich, sitting down to the pot.

It was wonderful to sit by the fire in our fenced off area. Gardens bloomed all around, hammocks creaked, and we have a forest fire, free grass.

After dinner, Akim Ilyich hung a kettle over the fire and sang:

Why are you standing, swaying, Thin mountain ash ...

Tuzik lay at his feet and listened thoughtfully, rustling his ears, as if he was afraid to miss even a word. And when Akim Ilyich got to the words: “but you can’t get over the mountain ash to the oak,” a tear ran into Tuzik’s eyes.

— Hey, comrades! - was suddenly heard.

At the gate stood a man in a straw hat.

— Hey, comrades! he shouted. - Who's the boss here?

Frustrated, Tuzik caught himself and, cursing, rushed to the fence.

"What's the matter, countryman?" shouted Akim Ilyich.

“The fact that this beast,” here the citizen pointed at Tuzik with his finger, “stolen the chicken from me.

"Come in, fellow countryman," said Akim Ilyich, nodding at Tuzik, "what's the point of shouting over the fence in vain."

“There’s nothing for me to do with you,” the owner of the chicken said irritably, but he entered the gate, glancing warily at Tuzik.

"Let's sit down and talk," said Akim Ilyich. - How many chickens do you keep? Perhaps ten?

— “Ten”!.. — contemptuously grunted the owner. - Twenty-two was, and now here is twenty-one.

- Point! said Akim Ilyich admiringly. - Chicken factory! Maybe we should get chickens too? Eh?.. No,' continued Akim Ilyich, thinking, 'we'd better plant a garden. What do you think, fellow countryman, is it possible to plant a garden on such a site?

“I don’t know,” the fellow countryman answered displeasedly, not for a second being distracted from the chicken.

But the soil is clayey here. On such soils, even potatoes are small, like peas.

“I am completely exhausted with these potatoes,” said the owner of the chicken. “It’s so small that I don’t eat it myself. I cook smoke. And it's all pasta, pasta...

He doesn't have potatoes, does he? said Akim Ilyich, and looked slyly at me. “Well, we have a whole bag. Take it.

- What do I need your potatoes for! Run the chicken. Or the amount of money.

- Potatoes are good! shouted Akim Ilyich slyly. — Apples, not potatoes. Antonovka! Yes, here we have boiled, try it.

Here Akim Ilyich took a boiled potato out of the cauldron and instantly tore off her uniform, saying:

— Cake.

- Something to try? the owner of the chicken hesitated. - And then it's all pasta, pasta ...

He accepted the potato from the hands of Akim Ilyich, salted it sparingly, and took a bite.

“The potatoes are delicious,” he said judiciously. - How do you grow it?

- We do not grow it in any way, - Akim Ilyich laughed, - because we are workers in potato warehouses. Pour as much as you need.

“Let the bucket pour, and that’s enough,” I put in.

Akim Ilyich looked reproachfully at me.

A man has a misfortune: our dog ate his chicken. Let it pour as much as it wants, so that the soul does not hurt.

The next day I bought an intelligent chain in a kerosene shop and chained potato dog to the tree

His swan days are over.

Tuzik groaned in resentment, wept with fake tears and pulled the chain so hard that cones fell from the tree. Only in the evening I unlocked the chain, took Tuzik out for a walk.

The month of August has arrived. There were more summer residents. On sunny evenings, summer residents in straw hats walked politely along the highway. I also got myself a hat and walked with Tuzik, putting on my face an evening country smile.

On walks, the trickster ace pretended to be a well-mannered and amiable dog, looked importantly around, proudly raised his eyebrows, like a major general.

We met summer residents with dogs - with Irish setters or greyhounds, curved like a treble clef. Seeing us from a distance, they crossed to the other side of the highway, not wanting to approach the dangerous potato dog.

Tuzik was not interested in the highway, and I took him further into the forest, unfastened the leash.

Acey did not remember himself from happiness. He crouched to the ground and looked at me as if he could not stop looking, snorted, threw kisses like a football player who scored a goal. For some time he swiftly rushed around and, having made these circles of delight, rushed somewhere with all his might, knocking down stumps. In an instant he hid behind the bushes, and I purposely ran in the other direction and hid in the ferns.

Soon Tuzik began to worry: why was my voice not heard.

He barked invitingly and rushed through the forest, looking for me. When he ran closer, I suddenly jumped out of the ambush with a roar and knocked him to the ground.

We rolled on the grass and growled, and Tuzik clattered his teeth so terribly and bulged his eyes so that laughter attacked me.

The soul of the owner of the chicken, apparently, still hurt.

One morning a police sergeant appeared at our gate. He read a poster about a potato dog for a long time and finally decided to enter.

Tuzik was sitting on a chain and, of course, spotted a policeman from a distance. He aimed his eye at him, wanted to bark menacingly, but for some reason changed his mind. Strange thing: he did not growl and did not gnaw at the chain in order to break free from it and tear the newcomer to pieces.

- You let the dogs go! meanwhile the policeman said, sternly getting down to business.

I was a little petrified and could not find an answer. The sergeant looked at me, walked around the site and noticed a bag with the inscription: "Pichugin".

— Are you Pichugin?

“No, no,” I hesitated.

The sergeant took out a notebook, scribbled something in it with a pencil, and began examining Acey. Under the police gaze, Tuzik somehow pulled himself up and stood up, as if at attention. His coat, which usually stuck out ugly in all directions, somehow smoothed out, and his plumage could now be called a “decent hairstyle”.

“This dog has been reported,” said the sergeant, “that it crushes chickens. And you eat those chickens.

“Just one chicken,” I said. - Paid for.

The sergeant grunted and again began to examine Tuzik, as if photographing him with his eyes.

Peacefully wagging his tail, Tuzik turned to the sergeant with his right side, allowed himself to be photographed, and then turned to his left.

“He is a very peaceful dog,” I remarked.

Why is it potato? What is this breed?

Then I took a potato out of my pocket and threw it to Tuzik. Tuzik deftly intercepted it in flight and ate it culturally, bowing delicately to the policeman.

"Strange animal," the sergeant said suspiciously. - He eats raw potatoes. Can you pet him?

Only then I realized what a great actor Tuzik is. While the sergeant ran his hand over his unkempt scruff of the neck, the potato dog shyly closed his eyes, as lap dogs do, and wagged his tail. I even thought that he would lick the sergeant's hand, but Tuzik resisted.

“Strange,” the sergeant said. - They said that this is a very angry potato dog that torments everyone, and then I suddenly pet it.

— Tuzik feels good man, I couldn't resist.

The sergeant clapped his palm against his palm, shook off the dog spirit from them and held out his hand to me:

— Rastrepin. Let's get acquainted.

We shook hands, and Sergeant Rastrepin went to the gate. As he passed Tuzik, he bent down and paternally patted the dog.

“Well done, well done,” said the sergeant.

And here, when the policeman turned his back, the damned potato deceiver dog suddenly stood on hind legs and barked monstrously into the sergeant's ear. Half-pale Rastrepin jumped aside, and Tuzik fell to the ground and laughed to tears, rolling on his back.

“One more chicken,” the sergeant called from afar, “and that’s it!” Protocol!

But there were no more chickens, no more statements. Summer is over. I had to return to Moscow, and Tuzika to the potato warehouse.

On the last day of August, we went to the forest to say goodbye. I collected chernushki, which poured out a lot that year. Tuzik followed sullenly.

In order to cheer up the dog a little, I rushed at him with his lop-eared blacks, but something smeared, and fun did not work. Then I hid in an ambush, but Tuzik quickly found me, came up and lay down next to me. He didn't want to play.

I still growled at him, grabbed his ears. In a second we were rolling on the grass. Tuzik opened his mouth terribly, and I put a basket of mushrooms on his head. Tuzik threw off the basket and began to torment it so that the blackies squeaked.

Akim Ilyich arrived in the evening. We boiled young potatoes, put on a samovar. Hurried voices were heard in neighboring dachas, they were also preparing for departure: they were tying knots, picking apples.

— Good year- said Akim Ilyich. - Harvest. A lot of apples, mushrooms, potatoes.

We went along the dacha highway to the station and waited a long time for the train. The platform was full of people, everywhere were bundles and suitcases, baskets of apples and mushrooms, almost everyone had an autumn bouquet in their hand.

A freight train of sixty wagons passed. At the station, an electric locomotive roared, and Tuzik became furious. He fiercely threw himself at the passing cars, wanting to catch fear on them. The wagons rushed on indifferently.

- Well, why are you upset? Akim Ilyich told me. There will be many more dogs in your life.

An electric train came up, packed with summer residents and things.

- And so the apple has nowhere to fall, - they shouted at us in the vestibule, - and these with a dog!

Don't worry, fellow countryman! shouted Akim Ilyich in reply. - It would be an apple, but where to fall, we will arrange.

A song was heard from the car, they sang in chorus, played the guitar. Incited by the song from the carriage, Akim Ilyich also sang:

What are you standing, swinging,

We stood in the vestibule, and Tuzik, rising on his hind legs, looked out the window. Birches, mountain ash, orchards full of apples and golden balls flew by.

It was a good year, fruitful.

That year the orchards smelled of mushrooms and the forests of apples.

Guard dog

In the deep autumn I had a rest on the Volga near Saratov. A huge shepherd dog lived loosely at a nearby recreation center. Every morning she ran to the house where I lived to get "breakfast" from me. She knew that I would always have food for her.
One evening I was walking past the base where this shepherd lived, and I saw that she was lying not far from the road and was carefully watching me. I called out to her as if greeting her and continued to walk towards my house. When I caught up with her, she suddenly got up, jumped on me and bit me painfully.
All evening I wondered about the reason for such an ungrateful act. And he was completely surprised when he saw the dog again the next morning at his door. Then, it seems, he understood yesterday's incident: despite a close acquaintance, the shepherd dog strictly observed its watchdog functions and vigilantly guarded the territory entrusted to it.

V o r and sh k a

I will tell you about another dog that lived with my friend. This dog was very beautiful and smart, but when left alone in the house, it became uncontrollable. Left to her own devices, she tore curtains, gnawed furniture, ruined carpets. The hostess understood that this was how her pet expressed her anger at the forced loneliness, and could not do anything with her.
For some time now, shiny small things began to disappear in the apartment: gold rings, chains, earrings. Even the little gold watch was gone somewhere. There were no strangers in the house, and the search did not lead to anything.
Meanwhile, further living with the dog became unbearable and the woman decided to give it to other hands.
After the new owner took the four-legged friend, the hostess decided to do a general cleaning in the apartment. Under the carpet that lay on the floor, she discovered all her losses.

R and h - r e v n i v y p e s

Rich is a huge dog with thick black hair. At the bottom of his paws are painted light brown and it seems that he put on beautiful socks for style. He has an unusual pedigree: his mother is a real she-wolf, found in the mountains as a small animal and raised at home, and his father is a shepherd. Despite such formidable parents, Rich is generally a kind dog. She always treats my arrival kindly and even wags her tail as a sign of special disposition.
Once I came to the hostess of the house for her birthday and she hugged me in joy. "Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr" came a sudden sound behind me. I turned around and saw a menacing grin growling at me. Apparently, he did not like the too warm welcome given to me by the hostess, and I had to calm him down.
Rich followed me all evening, and when everyone sat down at the table, he settled down at my feet. Peace was achieved only when I treated him to something delicious.
The next time Rich saw me, he growled again. Noticing, however, that no one was showing warm feelings towards me, he quickly calmed down.
Why do you think he behaved this way? He was jealous of me for his mistress.

When I was still at school, we were given a beautiful puppy. He had a wide muzzle with large eyes, thick short legs and dark thick hair.
Our new lodger was very fond of boiled potatoes and milk. After the meal, he minced on his mat. After a while, he began to respond to the name that we gave him. The puppy grew quickly, and became so fat that it looked like a barrel.
Once he whined all morning, and then lay down in his place and fell silent. I thought he choked on a bone and opened his mouth, but he bit my finger. And he didn't make another sound. After a while he died.
They took the miserable dog to the veterinary clinic. There, the doctor opened the body and found that the entire abdomen was full of worms. And four long worms stuck out even in the throat. They strangled the poor puppy.

When we lived in the city of Starodub, in the Bryansk region, we had a small garden with fruit trees. So that the ripened fruits would not be stolen, the garden had to be guarded, and for this purpose we were given a dog. Or rather, a puppy. On the same day I built a wooden kennel for him, set it up in the yard, and tied the puppy to it for the night. In the morning he was not there. They stole it.
Of course, we were sad, and in the evening we went to visit relatives. We told them about our loss, and they offered us their dog, nicknamed Lady. The lady was small, similar in muzzle and red fur coat to a fox.
They brought her home, tied her up, and went into the rooms themselves. After a while I go out to visit - there is no Lady. A rope with a collar is lying on the ground - which means that she herself got out of the collar and ran away. However, she soon returned, and we fed her. And the next time, when she wanted to take a walk, she easily left her collar and again ran back.
The lady was a quiet dog, did not bark, but we wanted her voice to be heard far beyond the fence. At night, however, she slept peacefully, and we had to guard the garden.
Once, however, the Lady broke off her leash, rushed at an elderly woman and tore her dress. But that only brought us trouble.
Sometimes our "guard" would run away for a few days, and after that she would appear thin, hungry and wagging her tail guiltily. Somehow she ran away once again and did not return - we did not see her again.

Angry dog

It happened in Kazakhstan, where I once lived. I had to get into one house, but a huge angry dog ​​lived in his yard. No matter how much I knocked on the window that overlooked the street, no one answered. From the house, meanwhile, came voices. What to do, how to enter the house?
I thought that dogs, no matter how evil they are, also have fear, like people. He opened the gate and entered the yard. The terrible dog with a wild bark rushed at me, but the chain holding him made it impossible to approach me. However, I still could not go into the house - then I would have to close the distance between me and the dog, and she could grab me with her teeth. But I made up my mind: I began to approach the house very slowly. The dog got even angrier. Before him there was very little, and I came closer and closer. And suddenly he... backed away from me! I took another step. Now the dog could bite me if he wanted to, but he continued to move back. Until I drove him completely into a kennel.

After that I went towards the front door of the house. The dog continued to sit in the kennel and did not even make an attempt to prevent me. That's Entrance door. He knocked and, having received permission, entered the house. There were a lot of people in it, they were very noisy and therefore did not hear my knock on the window. But the owners were terribly surprised how I could walk through the yard past their angry dog.
Having finished his work, he went to the exit. The mistress delayed me to tie the dog to a short chain. When I walked across the yard, she again rushed and barked loudly, but she could no longer do anything to me. I safely reached the gate and went out into the street.