Dog metaphors

My friend has a house in the village where he spends a significant part of the year. For a rather long time, he once told me, he watched the same scene in the window every morning. When the collective farm herd walked past his yard, his towel bobik jumped out of the gate with a sonorous bark and immediately attached ahead of the herd, as if leading him. After some time, the road was bifurcated, a herd led by a shepherd, rushed along the left road, and the dog, blinded by his guiding mission, cheerfully fled on the right for a while. At some point, he looked around, confusedly discovered that the herd went somewhere in the wrong place, and for quite a long time and rather squabblely cutting out the wrong path of the cows, urging them to order. The cows, directed towards the coveted clover clearing, in the most offensive way ignored his invectives - not one even turned his head in his direction. Tired of his noisy, but barren agitation, the dog for a short time plunged into deep thought. After that, having made a strategic decision, he overshadowed the ungrateful herd with a nimble gallop and again attached ahead. And so fled to the very end. This was repeated daily, until the dog was old and rested surrounded by his loved ones.

“It's funny,” I said, “why are you suddenly?”

“And I remember this every time,” my comrade said, “when I hear that Russia was created in order to indicate a bright path to all humanity. That is why, in order for you to know, they hate it, they are afraid and try to get rid of it. Or at least dismember and turn it into a raw materials colony. And I hear about it more and more often. And we also need to save all ...

“But about this,” I say, “I also have my own story. And also, by the way, not without the participation of the dog. I was a witness.”

Moscow Region. Hot summer day. Littered with plastic bottles and variedly undressed by the public beach on the shore of a country pond. Everything is as usual: volleyball, beer, spray, screeching, children, dogs. Among the dogs a huge black Newfoundland stands out. It is also called a diver. Which specializes in the salvation of drowning.

So. This enormous, but quite in appearance, a peaceful and benevolent beast on the shore of the pond, in the dubious waters of which shuffle the frolicing summer residents, and peeps onto the distance with restrained carnivorousness. And suddenly, having caught an unknown secret sign, it breaks down, lifting a serious wave, flopes into the water and rushes at a cruising speed towards a single middle -aged swimsuit, carelessly splashing in muddy water and spating flirty whale fountains. When this sacrifice of violent salvation saw next to her a huge wet head of the Black Leviathan, whose intentions were not easy to guess, that is, he let out a terrible dying cry and seemed to be truly sinking. At this time, the mistress of the diver rushed along the shore and yelled with good obscenities: "Jack, to me!"

Having been shaken between the mission inherited from the ancestors of the "coercion to salvation" and a well -made habit of obedience, Jack chose obedience and swam to the shore at the same speed.

The unfinished swimwear, in spite of everything, also somehow reached the shore, where responsive beachors tried to strengthen his spirit with the help of friendly jokes and validol under his tongue.

My comrade and I spoke for some time that the mind still did not understand anything and with arshin to not measure it. And about the special to become something, they talked something. And once again they talked that it is impossible to understand all this even with the help of "bestial" metaphors. But the fact that with these metaphors, although they also do not really explain anything, somehow still more fun to understand anything.

But the topic of dogs still did not want to leave us alone. And so my comrade melancholy asked: "What do you think, why are village dogs so violently covering cars passing by?" “I don’t know,” I said, “but if you mean a specific attitude towards the West ...” “Okay,” he interrupted me, “enough about it. Come on something else.”