A short interesting story about the year of the dog. Essay on my favorite animal dog

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.

Story about 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.

The Fly story.

Edward Uspensky

How to love dogs

Little dog Astra

It was my main dog love. One day, under pressure from my four-year-old daughter Tatiana, I started looking for a new dog. This time I decided not to make a mistake. Since I live in a city, I will get not just any, but a strictly urban dog.

Firstly, it should be small so that you can safely run and jump in a city apartment.

Secondly, it should not be hunting, so as not to yearn for holes, swamps with ducks, badgers and wild boars. Thirdly, it should not be room, like a lapdog, so as not to turn into a toy, but still remain a DOG.

Tibetan Terrier dogs were the best suited for this purpose. This breed had just begun to appear in Moscow then.

As the breeders told me, these dogs were bred by the Dalai Lama in Tibet. The dogs were small, shaggy enough not to be afraid of the snow. Biting, not to be a toy. And very self-respecting and even majestic, because Tibet does not tolerate fuss. Lamas did not allow them to be taken out of Tibet:

We brought them out for ourselves, and not for some Europeans there!

But once an English doctor cured the chief Tibetan lama, and he was given two little things of these dogs as a gift. And dogs appeared in Europe.

And we decided:

Daughter, let's go.

When we entered the room where the dogs lived, the dog's mother rushed to bite us.

And cheerful shaggy puppies, on the contrary, were very happy and urgently ran to us to lick their fingers.

They are so cute, - said the hostess, - that it is a pity to give them away.

Therefore, we sell them, - put in the husband.

My daughter and I chose the most active puppy with a white chrysanthemum on a black shaggy nose, paid the due money (one third of a monthly engineer's salary) and left happy.

It turns out that we have chosen best puppy(female), the rest were rejected by specialists from the club, as not corresponding to the indicators of the breed (sometimes the paws are longer, then the tail is shorter).

The name for the dog became clear immediately - because of the white chrysanthemum on the nose, it was called Astra.

I decided that I would raise her as a soldier dog. No sofas, no pillows. Sleep on the mat, eat from a bowl (not from your hands), all commands (“lie down”, “sit”, “come to me”, “cannot”) be followed unquestioningly.

And decision I put into practice, despite the plaintive requests of my daughter and wife:

Dad, can the dog sleep with me? - asked daughter Tanya.

Never!

Listen, well, let the dog lie down on the sofa, - the wife demanded. She keeps me warm.

Astra, here you go! Sit! I ordered in a stern voice.

My friend, writer Yuri Postnikov, aka Yuri Druzhkov, a great writer and publisher, author of Pencil and Samodelkin, could hardly stand such an attitude towards animals. One day he came to me with a homemade protest poster. The poster had a sad dog's muzzle crossed out by black prison bars, and along the bars was a bright inscription:

"FREEDOM TO THE PRISONERS OF THE TYRANT EDUARD!"

This poster he attached to the bottom shelf of the wardrobe - where the shoes live. Because Astra, in the depths of her boots, chose a vantage point for herself.

My Finnish writer friend Hannu Mäkelä still shouts that slogan when I want to change his route in Moscow or take him to the wrong museum he wants to visit.

And then Astra showed one valuable quality. She could not survive if something was taken out of the house. The man leaving the house with a briefcase was the enemy. Even animal rights activist Yura Druzhkov left the house separately from his briefcase. The briefcase was brought to him later.

So Astra became our guard dog.

Then it turned out that I lived alone with my four-year-old daughter in the country. And sometimes I had to go to the store, leaving my sleeping daughter alone.

Astra sat next to her, and if someone approached, she immediately ran up to this "someone" and tried to bite him on the nose. I could be calm for my daughter.

So Astra became our guard dog.

I have never seen a smarter dog in my life. If she wanted to eat, she went to the refrigerator and touched it with her paw. If she was thirsty, she would go to the washbasin with a faucet and bark.

She also liked to get the ball out of the water. I remember late autumn. I walk with Astra around the dacha village of Mozzhenka, picking dung beetles. Such umbrella on a thin leg. Nobody collects them, but I love them. Especially since I was poor then.

In the process of searching, I walk along the steep and high bank of the Moskva River and see below - summer residents bathe their dogs. They throw sticks into the water and order:

Shah, come on!

Caesar, fetch!

Dogs joyfully enter the water on half a paw, and then joyfully run back. Not a single parcel is delivered.

I have a ball with me. I swing and throw it in the middle of a fast river.

Astra, come on!

Little Astra rolls down a high bank in a hairy ball, jumps into the water and desperately swims after the ball, carried by a strong current. She grabs the ball, gets out on the shore and rushes up to me.

That's it, the ball is in my hands. I calmly move on. And from below there is a cry of wiser and enlightened summer residents:

Shah, to whom I say, give!

Caesar, go ahead!

Astra was ready to swim for the ball in any body of water, in any weather, a hundred times.

Then I taught Astra to play hide and seek with my daughter.

Little Tatyana climbed into a wardrobe or onto a refrigerator, and I ordered Astra:

She ran, ran around the apartment. Then she ran to the closet and said:

Af! - to the complete delight of the whole family.

Tanya got out of the closet and gave Astra a piece of sausage.

So Astra became our nanny.

And now we are already constantly living in the village of Troitsky near Pereslavl-Zalessky. My wife and daughter and I bought a house there next to the artists Viktor Chizhikov and Kolya Ustinov.

First of all, I improved the huge cowshed that adjoined the house. I cut a few windows into it. Fortunately, in Moscow they could be found easily and for nothing. Many people, entering new buildings, changed everything that was possible: doors, windows, floors.

And everything that was replaced was put out in the yards.

With three bright large windows (to the surprise of the entire neighborhood of Pereslavl, I cut one window into the ceiling), the barn turned into a magical house. In any thunderstorm, in any evening, he was bright and comfortable.

In the barn I set up a table tennis table, and all the village and country children grazed with me from two o'clock until dark. Unless, of course, Astra was locked.

Astra was friends with the village children and even played with them - she brought a ball from the water. But this is only outside the home. On the pond, in the forest, in the field - please. But as soon as the whole group of us approached the gate of our site, Astra stood on the threshold and growled terribly. Like, everything, friendship is over, then the service begins.

The guys were even offended:

Astra, Astra, we are our own.

R-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r!

If I went into a house with Astra, the first thing I did was throw some object of my own in the corner - a backpack, a bag, a hat, or just Astrin's leash.

Astra sat on the floor and began to protect the leash. If one of the owners approached closer than a meter, she growled and made small attacks. Then she expanded the protection radius of the object, the owners were allowed to come no closer than two meters. And in the end, she rushed at the one who just stirred on his stool.

The villagers had great respect for Astra. They called her Extra in honor of the famous Extra vodka and asked for puppies.

Once Astra gave birth, though only one puppy. And in general it is not known from whom, from some rural Sharik.

And everyone who asked for puppies began to say:

I wouldn't mind, but my wife...

We are soon leaving for the city, and it is difficult to bring up a dog there.

Well her! Will bark in winter, scare.

I had to keep Iris. By this time we lived in a small wooden house at the Klyazma station. But if Astra was a gold dog, then Butterscotch turned out to be bullshit. She took everything bad from daddy. She barked at trifles, was afraid of anything bigger than a chair, and stole food. But what to do - lived with us for twelve years.

And Astra lived with us for fifteen years. And suddenly she got cancer. She developed huge cancerous tumors. We learned that at the institute where they treat cancer, there is a department for sick dogs. I brought Astra there, they examined her and asked to leave. She was operated on soon after. The operation was successful. We went to the dog department, fed Astra, stroked.

And here she is, alive and well, again working as a commandant of the house.

Unfortunately, cancerous tumors are designed in such a way that, once disturbed, they metastasize throughout the body.

And very soon they finish off a living creature. This is what happened with Astra. She died three months later. In subsequent years, I did not allow dogs to operate, and they lived with tumors for quite a long time.

Dog Leech

The dog that caused me the most grief was called Leech. The most interesting thing is that the name was given to her many days before her leechiness really manifested itself. I gave her this name ahead of time. Just for the breed. And as it turned out, not in vain.

What kind of breed is this? This is a Jagd Terrier. A dog bred to hunt burrows - badgers, foxes. And for boar hunting.

These dogs are usually kept in barns: they are not well suited for family life, since they are completely uncontrollable.

Here is what one English book says: “Jagd terriers can serve to deliver ducks from the water when hunting. But, as a rule, the duck is not given to the owner.

Why did I decide to get such a dog? Because of the small angry dogs, she was the most inexpensive. (As a result, the most inexpensive dogs cost more than the most expensive ones. One of my acquaintances had a jagd terrier make a hole in his featherbed. And the other jumped from the refrigerator to the chandelier and crashed to the floor with the chandelier.)

Just one racing driver told me that his jagd terrier Mishka perfectly guarded his racing car. Not a single hijacker dared to approach her. And in general, his dog was the favorite of the family. This is what bribed me.

Later, when I spoke to his wife, it turned out that the dog was not so happy. In her youth, she jumped from the refrigerator to the chandelier, and in her middle years she made herself a hole from a downy feather bed.

When my secretary Anatoly and I came for a jagd terrier either to Lyubertsy or Bitsa, it turned out that the dogs do not live in the city where the owners are, but in the neighboring dacha village, in a barn.

Let's go to the holiday village.

In the holiday village, inside the barn, a booth was made, and in front of the booth there was a small pen for poop. A dog flew out of the booth, looking like a large rat with thin legs, and with a growl began to gnaw at the pen net.

Following her, two cheerful puppies poured out, one more cheerful than the other, and began to drag each other by the tail. With one of these merry fellows we went home.

At first, the dog was like a dog, obeyed, came to me at the call and merrily rushed around the house.

Then it became noticeable that she did not really want to approach the owner. She had to beg for a long time and show her something interesting. She approached, considered this interesting thing and quickly rushed away. Sometimes it was possible to capture her, but this happened rarely. Her movements were instantaneous.

Once, much later, they did not have time to close the gate in the yard. The leech immediately looked out, saw the departing citizen and, without asking anyone, flew towards him like a torpedo. She quickly grabbed her uncle properly and, satisfied, flew home. And with all her appearance, she showed:

“That's what I'm good at! I don’t eat bread in vain.”

The unfortunate citizen limped back to our gates and rang the bell.

I know your dog is in good hands and has had all his vaccinations. I'm not going to make a fuss, I'm just asking you to buy me new trousers for a thousand rubles.

We immediately allocated him the required amount. The citizen softened a little:

I know this breed. These are hunting dogs. On a boar. In our village, two such dogs killed a bull.

It is a pity that I was not at home, all negotiations with the citizen were conducted by my family. I would have known everything in detail about this fallen bull, and so I say without details.

If Leech bites him again, I will question him in detail.

Together with Leech, we had a dog, Dira, a black terrier. And while Leech was small, she obeyed Dir. But as soon as the small Leech grew up, she somehow imperceptibly became the main one. She pats Dira by the legs, hangs on her ears. Sleeping on Deer.

The leech always chooses a more interesting bowl and always manages to be the first to grab a piece of bread or a bone that is thrown to the dogs. And then both pieces.

She brought her terror to the point that Dira became useless as a guard dog. Both dogs live in the same big Dirin's booth, although Leech has her own small one.

As soon as Dira wants to leave the booth to bark at the guest, Leech clings to her fur, starts to growl and does not let her go to work. I had to keep them on opposite sides of the paddock.

Thank God, one of our pets, the raven Claudius, did not obey the Leech. On the contrary, he drove her crazy.

She used to run up to his enclosure and start yapping for half an hour. This uninterrupted yap-yap-yap of hers ... lasted for kilometers and hours with short breaks for taking in air.

The raven also learned to bark. But he barked calmly and importantly: “Aw! Aw! Aw-aw!"

He walked to the edge of the enclosure and pecked Leech in the nose. She wanted to grab him by the beak, and he pecked aimingly and pecked at her nose.

When a crow was given a meat bone as a delicacy, Leech first rushed to the crow and raised a wild scandal - how come, why did they dare to give this bone not to Leech, but to some stupid big-nosed dog?

One day a raven struck us. Instead of flying up to the pole in the enclosure and calmly dealing with the bone there, he sank to the floor, went up to the net, lay on his side on the wing and, taking the bone with one paw, began to swing it in front of Leech's nose.

The scream that Leech raised was unbelievable. It was a long one: “Tyayayyyyyyy… for half a kilometer…yyyyav!” It seems to me that Leech did not die of anger just because she lost consciousness.

It was difficult to walk with Leech in the park. She wanted to run in all directions, just not where we wanted to go.

There was a way to keep Leech around.

This is a ball. If she saw a tennis ball in your hands, she looked at it as if hypnotized. It was necessary to throw the ball as far as possible, and she ran after him with an arrow. No sooner had the ball hit the ground than she grabbed it with her teeth and rushed towards you.

The ball could be thrown twenty times, fifty, a hundred. And she ran after him twenty, fifty, a hundred times.

In the end, the hand dried up, and at the last serve of the ball, it was necessary to urgently grab the Leech and stuff it into the collar. Otherwise, she was hiding on the unknown paths of the park with unpredictable consequences ...

Two additions to Leech

First

Once we took Leech to a city apartment. She quickly sniffed all the corners, ran across the dining table, drank water from a saucer and noticed a cage with a parrot.

The cell was empty. Usually our parrot Jean Jacques (Rosella) flew around the rooms freely. Putting him in a cage was unthinkable.

He gnawed on skirting boards, bit off the spines of books, and flew home only to have breakfast or dinner. Moreover, he watched very carefully, no matter how we closed the cage door behind him.

The leech realized: since there is a cage, there must be a bird, and she went to look for this very bird.

She found her in the next room sitting on the door. The leech found her not by the noise of the wings, but by the droppings under the door. She looked up and, seeing the bird, ran up the door to the parrot.

It just looked like she was running.

In fact, she jumped and, moving her paws, flew almost to the top. And it looked like she was running.

The parrot grabbed his heart and did not even take off from horror.

The leech jumped a second time. This time, her mileage was slightly lower. But she stubbornly jumped and jumped. Each time she managed to fly less and less. From the outside, her senseless jumps caused laughter, because it was clear that soon she would not jump above the plinth, but her character and breed took their toll. So she could have died of a broken heart.

The compassionate Eleanor took Leech in her arms and slowed down this senseless ride.

And for the first time in his life, the parrot Jean Jacques rushed straight to his cage. I even thought he closed the door behind him.

Second

In our aviary, partly overlooking the street, lived the raven Claudius. The one who teased Leech with a bone. He could speak a little.

Once a very pleased old woman came to us and said:

And I was talking to your raven.

How did you talk to him?

I tell him: "Karlusha, Karlusha", and he says to me: "Get out of here!"

We were taken aback. May our Claudius say such things! And then we thought and understood. When we talked with the raven, Leech constantly interfered. She ran around the enclosure and barked. And we always shouted to her:

Get out. Get out!

This is how he learned. Ravens are very capable.

The leech lived with us for a long time. Her hard work was incredible. Asking to enter the house or be free to Dira, she could bark and squeal for several hours in a row, without stopping. This is especially unpleasant in the early summer at five in the morning.

In order not to injure the neighbors, we locked the Leech in the garage. And then only we alone heard her incessant, muffled barking.

In short, for the last two years our whole life has been a constant struggle with Leech.

I beg you very much, if you do not need to hunt wild boars, do not hunt foxes and badgers, do not get yourself a jagd terrier.
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Copyright: dog stories for kids

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 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 tasty.
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 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.

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.