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In the old, still socialist times, there lived a dog. Moderately cheerful, pretty, quite well-fed and, most importantly, cunning. Breed the dog was, although not very clean. It is possible that a little with impurities of cortereal. But then people each other on the floor more believed, therefore passports to confirm the purity of the blood of four-legged friends are not required. I'm not even sure that the dog they bought, most likely it was donated to the future of their masters absolutely for free. As obvious fawning, but with finely-practicheskiy overtones. What can I say? The height at the withers the dog was low, not above forty inches. Mostly white, with a brown-speckled spots. Muzzle – long and wide, the nose is black mobile and constantly wet. The dog was completely eared and had occasion to grieve on this occasion. He was supposed to be long, dangling and therefore constantly dirty ears. The owners have not tied their knot at the nape of the neck, even when the dog was eating from a bowl. The tail is stubby, docked in the deep a young dog. Sad eyes-lyric, winningly-all-understanding. At the ends of the legs had a funny montuschi, preventing it from falling when moving on snow and muddy places. Because, purely theoretically, the dog was hunting. On small feathered birds. Well, there are all sorts of ducks, woodcocks, or even partridge. His ancestors were specifically bred to do this. Russian spaniels are called.

the owner of the dog wanted to become a hunter. As a father. After the death of daddy–the Prosecutor the master had inherited the collector's rifle with ammunition in the kit. Smoothbore. So once he was forced to join the hunters ' Union, to pay fees and to periodically communicate with the police. Showed that the guns stored in the safe and separate from ammunition. Sometimes reading the literature. In General, all the prerequisites for hunting this man was. And the dog and a rifle with ammunition, and a hunting license. But the swamps and did not go once. Something did not grow together. Therefore, all the prerequisites were idle. Some rusting.

was the Name of that dog at all outside the box. Bassoon. Most likely, in honor of a brass instrument. However, the voice of droopy ears was normal, dog, loud and not music. It is possible that the name was a literary name of the famous Bulgakov's hero in the cracked pince-nez. Some particularly enlightened, even in those stagnant Brezhnev era were familiar with "the Master and Margarita". Although why give the dog almost demonic nickname? Weird. My mother, an English teacher, has even proposed its own version. The dog, in actual fact called Fogot. Or rather, Forgot, from the English verb "to forget" in the past tense. Meaning "to forget" This version is more like the master of the Bassoon, although he himself claimed that the name of the dog was chosen just for the sound quality. Without delving into the meaning of the name.

we have Met with the Bassoon and its master rarely, only in summer and only on shadowgate. Since were neighbors in the area. Good neighbors. Diagonal. By the way, I didn't even know this uncle's name was. The son of a Prosecutor, the owner of the Bassoon. He worked in some official chief, but what and how they led – it was unclear. Attached to this post neighbor is his father. In the garden he didn't grow a garden house is not repaired, why even come to the site - is not clear. Most often it was not seen and not heard. Such is a very vague neighbor.

Sometimes on the neighbor attacked the idea. And then he places the bushes were cut down, brought planks, buying the cage and tried to breed rabbits. But the energy of change sufficed for a short while. The bushes grew on the new boards have settled the hornets and Tits, and rabbits ran away because of inattention. I, actually, about this want to tell. About finding lost property eared.

Apparently the neighbor was very sorry for the money spent. Although why I bought a rabbit – he was not sure. Someone advised to engage in rabbit breeding, so he led. I'm not sure a neighbor would be able to slaughter the animal, grown with the purpose of obtaining skins and meat. And not that he seemed overly loving or very kind. No. He was not only interested in some result. I say the same, vague some was people. Indifferent. But loss of money for some reason it jarred. So he decided to arrange a hunt for escaped lagomorphs. At the same time and the dog to train for a future battle with the real birds on the marshes of the Udmurt Republic. Dream is to become a hunter it never left.

of Course, the neighbor is not brought into the garden of a gun and started shooting at everything that moves in the grass. No snares and traps exposed was not. It's against the law. And would require too much effort, to which he was not able to. All rabbit hunting freethinkers was that our diagonal neighbor down Russian Spaniel Bassoon with the leash and shouted loudly to it in a trace:


— Isch-o-soup, Fagot, look!


And the dog began to rush through the stations like mad. Very concentrated nose searching all along the way. Flashed paw, dangling ears. Created the rustle and crackle. The work was going. Rabbits, however, were not. Apparently ran into the side of the dog's diligence, but the host teams.

after Running in circles for five or ten minutes, perform your original dog's duty of obedience, bassoon zarulivaet us on the site. So quietly was patchlevel. Pretty good dog knew its master. And I realized that for him, form is much more important than the content. And while the owner is confident that his orders zealously performed, and you can popularity. Rabbits long been bye-bye, why try? And then that he, a Faggot, to do if he suddenly did stumble on eared? The dog did not know how to kill myself. He should only bring hunter already lined game. The job was initially overwhelming. So the dog lay down to rest among our bushes of Victoria. So it was not visible from the outside. The muzzle has gained philosophical expression. The dog dreamed of his dog. He even allowed himself to Pat at this time. Quietly looked askance at me and asked a glance:


— do Not betray,
the Fur of the dog was a silk on the ears hung Repi, and the stump of a tail wagged gratefully in the grass. He loved, when he respectfully spoke and praised for effort. This rest lasted for different times. But then master again cried out as his own:


— Isch-o-soup bassoon, look! Good looking soup.


And the dog ran to another round of false searches. Well, it is necessary once you started earning your keep! I suspect that was resting in the shelter of a bassoon not only on our site. Sometimes we are on the same patch of Victoria, came the owner of the Spaniel and talked with my father. On various topics. Once dad laid the dog. Told about ostentatious Vagotomy efforts. It turned out that the owner is aware of the fact that his dog is lazy and a faker. Therefore, repeats the command to search often. They say, the bassoon and the house prefers to sit and sleep, so let them in the garden run. The more that hunting still can not meet both of you. I remember laughing at. Fogot at this conversation was not present. Looking for a rabbit.


the Most interesting is that a third interested party to we also frequented. When the bassoon with the owner absent from the place, the plot wandered those damn runaway "almost hare". They ate Victoria and carrots. Very calmly and brazenly. Once I managed to grab one unwary feet. This I mean that the rabbits were very real and not too nimble. Home, just a little feral. Looks like all three teams were tacit collusion. On empty pastime. One as it directs and trains, the second, as it is subject to and what is looking. The third how-to hide. And all turns out. What all three angles of one triangle are actively rejoice. Each in their own way.

even after a long winter, for the next gardening season, the host continued to force the Faggot to look for all those same-eared fugitives. Although they certainly not was alive. The dog had apparently carried the team formally, but his eyes settled concealed hostility. Like, you're a fool, master. Okay, I know your brain inside out cockroaches, but in front of people-no shame! The result was running far too long, obviously sabotaging the subordination and assignment. Indeed, it would be possible and new things come up. But with imagination have a neighbor that was not very.

Bassoon a long time ago. Since this story was at least thirty years ago. But the dog remembered. And somehow, all of this "hunting" very often surfaced in my mind during inspections at work. That's when some Roszdravnadzora, SES, firefighters, and many other punishing-inspection bodies declared in the horizon. How-to control and in fact fine. All repeated. Administration loud:

— Isch-o-soup bassoon, look for...

the Heads of senior and m/s started at a trot to rush through the divisions in search of bugs. Nose Roy land and collecting heaps of burdocks to your ears. And, as it was found. Though chronic lack of funds for repairs and other necessities to government hospitals all around - one big big drawback. Some head.otd. preferred to "lie down" in offices. Blaming everything on subordinates. Until the next roar roar most important. The expression of the eyes of the older m/s resembled the look of the Bassoon on the second season of the search. With hidden hostility. And the rabbits came suddenly and ate carrots. I mean, put huge fines and imposed sanctions. And, in principle, all arranged. Even when I told this story about a sly dog, nobody stopped running. Although laughed. Everything is strange in this world.

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