Dog

I can sit at ten in the evening to view the news feed, in the entire well -known social network, and will wake up at three in the morning to read the article about the marriage traditions of the Eskimos. Tonight was no exception. With a heavy sigh, I set aside the keyboard and went to smoke.

An early summer dawn will come soon, and followed by another monotonous and dull working day. The work has long ceased to give me pleasure, I was never particularly close with my parents, and after my move from my hometown, all our communication came down to very rare phone calls. Friends and beloved women, in two years of life in this city, I have not bothered to acquire, so my life looks very dull: breakfast, a working day during which I am exhausted with a desire to get myself a paper clip, a road home, dinner closer to midnight and a look of endless open spaces until the very morning. Sometimes a brief restless dream has been included in my “rich” schedule, but in recent months I have increasingly neglected.

The only creature that serves me a source of joy is my dog. Having pushed me 2 years ago as a puppy, he flatly refused to respond to numerous nicknames that I tried to give him. Only when I uttered the word “dog” did he began to joyfully wag his tail. So the nickname has taken root. The dog was a wonderful shaggy dog, in which the ancestors of the German shepherds and something else shaggy were clearly visible, from the shepherds he got the shape of the body and jaw with powerful fangs, and from “something else” the furry wool of red-brown color.

With a heavy sigh, I set aside the keyboard and went to smoke. I live in the private sector, in the yard I have an old sofa that I got from the past owners of the house. At night sitting on it in the gazebo, smoking another cigarette, I loved to think about the past and future, to remember those who were dear to me and close, gradually flowing to melancholy. It was at this moment that, as a rule, the dog appeared. He jumped to me on my sofa, tearing me out of gloomy thoughts, sometimes, he put his head on my knees and lay quietly, but so he behaved very rarely. Much more often, he ran to me, with the speed of the horse at the hippodrome, from the most distant corners of the courtyard, as soon as I sat down on the sofa. He bit my hand or shoulder lightly, forcing me to play with him. If I tried to ignore him, then he only strengthened his pressure.

Tonight was no exception. From my thoughts I https://nokyccasinos.org.uk/ was brought out by the sound of a dog jump to the sofa. Strange, I did not hear at all how he ran to me. He immediately bit my shoulder lightly, trying to attract my attention. I decided not to ignore him and immediately began to stroke his furry face. And then something happened that did not fit into my idea of ​​the world at all. My always joyful and affectionate dog, my only and best friend, made a uterine growl, followed by a terrible gurgling sound from his womb, which the dogs did not make, and if they publish it only before his death, drove sharp fangs to my triceps.
My mind fell into a state of stupor, trying to at least somehow understand the sharply changing picture of the world. Reason, but not the body, the body cannot be inactive when the fangs tearing your flesh tearing your flesh. The body cannot ignore such a clear threat to its existence, it will not be allowed by the instincts that we got from distant ancestors who were forced to exist in conditions of a terrible hostile environment. Instincts sleep in us, in modern people, but they wake up every time the world flies from the coils. The body knows how to kill and how to die.

My body, not interested in the opinion of a shocked mind, sent my fist a little further than the location of the jaws of the dog. Powerful, even too powerful, for me a blow made the dog’s jaws open and weaken the grip, the blow followed completely freed me from the tenacious grip. Strong blows only for a second discouraged the dog, he quickly backed away to the other end of the sofa, and having reached it, prepared for a throw on me, but my body was ready for this. A second before the throw, the instinct forced to lie on his back, buried with a bleeding shoulder in the back of the sofa. Bounce. A simultaneous blow of two legs sends a creature that until recently was my best friend in a flight, in the opposite direction from me. I did not hesitate and look for a place of fall. In a couple of seconds, I overcame the distance from the sofa to the porch of the house. Slamming the old wooden door of the porch on the bolt, I did not even think to stop, with the proper desire to demolish it and the child. I felt safe in safety only by locating a thick metal door that led to the house itself, to all the locks.
If my mind had not back into the background, the dog would have already chewed my guts.

Then the adrenaline retreated and I wandered around the house in search of a bandage and what you can process the wound, sobbed in pain and resentment. In the end, I found a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, which processed the wound and the old long pillowcase, which I used instead of the bandage. And in the buffet I found a stooped bottle of cognac. The best find in the world!

4 a.m. I’m cold, cognac did not warm at all. Perhaps from blood loss or from the fact that the creature wanders around the house, constantly whining and somewhat champion. She recently demolished the door on the porch, then followed several powerful blows to the front door, but she was not tough for the creature. During the time spent with cognac, I tried to sort out everything that could happen to my dog. I made him painfully painful and therefore he attacked me? Excluded. Sometimes I stepped on his paws, but he never bit me, he only whined plaintively and looked with an offended look. Rabies? It looks more believable, but your mother, with fury of the dog, distinguish foam, go staggering, since the coordination of movements when brain damage is lost. I saw this not at all, the dog acted clearly and harmoniously, like a real predator. In the end, a frantic animal will not walk near the house, waiting for his failed booty to leave his refuge, and rush to the first goal, which he will see.

At some point I was tired of waiting. Armed with a powerful flashlight and a small ax that I used to cut meat, I got up at the door. Then I remembered all the horror films that I saw. Bad idea. First of all, I found a mobile and called the police, I didn’t come up with anything smarter, after listening to my confused story I was sent to the service that is engaged in cases of rabies in animals, I didn’t even hear the name, I just dialed the number dictated to me with tired duty. In the service they sent me, sleep and wait until the morning, since the only duty team on the road, even the mention of the bite did not help me.
– will be freed and come to you, in the morning already. We will not tear ourselves – the beeps followed.
Wait for the morning under the cheekbone of the creature, which until recently was my best friend, I did not have the strength.
Again armed with an ax for cutting meat and a flashlight, I opened the door to the porch. Pogrom. Only fragments remained from the first door. My hands began to shake, but I could no longer stop. I have to know what happened to my dog. Having overcome the defeated porch, I went down from the threshold.
I never needed a flashlight, there was enough light through the doorway of the porch to consider my dog, which was already waiting for me near the threshold.

This is no longer my dog. Absolutely bald skull, covered with pale skin, through which the skull is visible, with red mold, which climbs through the ears. Mold let the sprouts on the entire body of the dog, like a parasite of her suction cups.

Sounds. Completely new sounds for me have come to me from everywhere. Howl and growl of dogs rushing at their owners, the heart -rending cries of the owners of their pets perishable from the fangs. A single shot from a gun, then a whine of a dog, so familiar to everyone, but still a different sound made by another creature that was recently a dog. A piercing feminine from a neighboring house, probably a tiny terrier of a neighbor got to her in a dream. Probably it is very ironic to be killed by a large rat. And again screams. Screams tormented by those who had to protect them and could not betray them.

The dog published a uterine growl and began to go around me on the right. Maneuver? Ok, just wait a little more. Another moment.
New sounds. Distant automatic queue, another. Shrillroom of dogs and human scream. Automat again. Another. They shoot single. A selected mat and loud shots from a hunting carbine, very close, most likely on a neighboring street. Apparently, Pyotr Alekseevich did not stand on ceremony with his “boxer” when he decided to enjoy the owner. Well done.
Screams of people, shots, whine and howl of dogs merged into wild cacophony. People very quickly got rid of a sentimental attitude to their distraught pets.
The dog was waiting. He knew how to wait. He always waiting for me from work. He waited for me to go out and sat on the sofa to caress me. He was a good dog. He knew how to wait. I waited now.
I threw a flashlight to hell and brought the hatchet in a fighting position. The dog backed back and prepared for the throw.
Blood was again filled with adrenaline, and my mind faded into the background, as was the case in the first battle. We, like them, descendants of ancient and cruel creatures. After all, we also know how to kill, each of us a killer, we just began to forget about it. We created hundreds of sophisticated machines for the murder, but our bodies remember how to kill with any improvised remedy or bare hands. That night we will remember everything. Two predators woke up.

Who will be the city after dawn? Don’t know. In the meantime, jump. Jump to me dog. Jump how you did it a hundred times. Just jump.
I already remembered.