Translated material
Sonya 3243
As a journalist of the "new" and homeless dog met in Yerevan. The story of the unlucky possibility of mutual love
In the fall in Yerevan is sunny. However, as always.
In the evening we are going to the small bar "UPS!" Next to the vernisage - Russian journalists who are forced to leave their country after the beginning *** are often found in Yerevan. Great wine, delicious food, smoke of cigarettes, laughter, conversations. Everyone flew from different places, from Moscow there are only two of us. I look at the faces of my colleagues and only now I realize how much I missed them. For several days, Yerevan turns exile into shelter.
Together with the night, a dog comes to the bar: the establishment of a dog-frauds even for the homeless. An affectionate black mongrel, similar to a foal, with long legs and eyes, jokes, joins our company. She has a red tag on her ear: vaccinated and sterilized according to the city program. Number 3243.
Relaxed and warmed by a meeting with wine, I am sitting on the steps of the bar and stroke the dog. Pretty quickly, she turns out entirely in my arms. And then he falls asleep tightly.
I stroke her long legs, pillows of the legs, pink tummy, velvet ears and muzzle - and she all surrenders to my affection, without fear and doubt. I feel every cell of her body. I seem to hold all the trust and tenderness of this world in my hands. Antimatter of loneliness and despair. An antidepressant of instant action.
My heart becomes proportionate to myself, and my hands are black from city dust from dog wool.
I am sitting with a dog in my hands and afraid to move and break her sleep.
My friends will not recognize me. I do not recognize myself.
The dog buried her nose in my armpit. The guys take pictures of us and laugh:
“She has a red tag is an indicator of aggressiveness. So, it means what the highest level of aggression in Armenian looks like! ”
The dog sleeps as if he had not slept eternity.
I hold in my hands 15 kilograms of pure love, I'm afraid to move and understand that this is the happiest moment of my life over the past three years.
"Well, all, An, you, as an honest person, should now marry her!" - colleagues teased.
Time after midnight, it's time to disperse.
We shift the dog, it climbs under the bench on the bar’s terrace and is twisted with a kalachik. He looks at me from the bottom up with huge sad eyes-pegs.
That night I lie at the hotel in the dark and think about the dog of my childhood - a reverent red -haired marquise. I still remember the smell of her paws and the warmth of her wool. In old age, she was very ill: so as not to torment, she was strewn. I sat with her in her box for a long time and hugged her goodbye.
It was painful. And then my mother and I decided: no more animals.
This rule has not been violated for almost three decades. I was sure that the only dog in my life is the Marquis.
I was sure before that evening in Yerevan.
* * *
Two days before leaving at dawn and late night, I secretly wander with bags of feed in the vicinity of the vernissage. A huge lazy peach dog warms up in the sun right in the middle of the sidewalk, the curly bbw Susie rushes the way on his short paws, the stores were placed at the stores with food ... I had never noticed how to carefully and humanly relate to the Yerevans to their city animals. At night I sit for a long time in the same "UPS!" “But I meet there only a similar sad black dog, perhaps my mother ... I treat her with a bag of food.” Colleagues seemed to see our Sonya warming in the "viper", but when I resort there, there are no dogs there.
“I live alone, I work as a reporter and forever on business trips. In addition to the elderly mother, I have no one - all my friends were forced to leave the country, several colleagues were arrested. I myself have gathered a disturbing suitcase, in the future nothing but anxiety. I cannot afford a dog ... Everything is for the better. "
* * *
On the day of departure, we will invigorate, say goodbye in a businesslike way quickly and promise to each other in touch. But no one knows where and when we can see the next time.
I fly to Moscow with the feeling that my heart remains in Yerevan.
And this is not only because of separation from colleagues.
In Moscow, it is cold, gloomy and intense. In Very.
I quickly pour into the routine of joyless journalistic topics.
But immediately it becomes clear: there is no life without a Yerevan dog. All my thoughts about her.
I’m calling Nastya Egorova: a journalist of “New”, she is also a professional dog handler. And now it represents the Spanish Adjility team. I tell her about the meeting with the Armenian sleeping dog. “Tell me, is she happy there at large, in beautiful Yerevan? She would be worse with me in the apartment, staying alone for days? "
-Actually, the dogs were evolved in dozens of millennia to be close to a person. She does not care about the most beautiful city of the world, if she is not a man - she needs her own man. Do not transfer human values to it: the dog is important not freedom, but to the owner belonging. And only it makes her happy ... Well, what is their life on the street? They sleep all the time or look for food, do not live for a long time .... Well, if you are so strongly covered by this dog, mother, then this is your animal. And you will adjust the street behavior, she is young, get used to it, ”Nastya told me.
* * *
We are sitting with her mother in her kitchen. Surprisingly, mom is not at all in shock.
- I understand you, I understand ... Of course, I will sit with her when you are on business trips, where to go ... But we have so many dogs in the cockerels near the cottage run, maybe you will take it there? It is also difficult ... to carry from Yerevan!
“But I don’t need a dog at all, mothers ... Only the only one who sleeps in Yerevan.”
I plan to work and shoot so that I do not grab me in the editor for a week. I take out a thin envelope of savings for a rainy day: I buy a ticket in one direction, rent the most budget housing, where you can do with pets.
“I'm just flying to visit her, no expectations,” I say to myself. But just in case, I stealing the house in the corridor of a dog rug.
* * *
In Yerevan is fresh and sunny.
I find and recognize it right away - on the lawn at the monument to Vardan Mamikonyan. The dog is sleeping.
We spend all day together.
I am sitting on a bench and looking at her free dog life: how cheerfully she drives the raven and furiously - cyclists, rushes with barking at large men, as she rushes, limping, behind cars with other dogs.
Beautiful strong cheerful animal. She constantly returns to me - to caress, to treat herself and stroking - and again runs about her business.
I notice that many passers -by feed city dogs. A man in a business suit stops for a minute near a bright dog (obviously they are familiar) takes a bag from the portfolio, shakes the food - and purposefully runs on. A company of very young Russian guys - the girl has a large pack of food in her hands, she lays him in heaps throughout the square. “Most likely, these guys fled from ***, they themselves were deprived of the house and the future ... And here they are, they feed homeless dogs ...” Unbearable thoughts.
A stylish girl in a long coat and with large silver rings in her arms approaches us, the dog rushes to meet her, and they hug.
“We are generally from Russia in general, but now we live here with my husband ...” she says, and I understand. - This is a very good dog, smart. Her paw was recently interrupted, they even wanted to take her to the veterinarian, but it seemed to heal. She is very active. See the tree over there? She jumps on him! In general, it can smash the apartment ... But, if you deal with it, it will be a cool confident dog. Although, of course, she knows how to live in the city - she will not disappear on the street, survive.
I have been considering a high branched tree for a long time.
At sunset in the square, dogs appear on leashes with their owners - the time of an evening walk. The dog rushes to his friends, the tail of a pipe, I look from afar how she plays with her friends. She is so similar to a horse. The last rays of the evening sun.
She is good here. I need to leave.
Without saying goodbye, I'm leaving the square.
"Oops!" Almost empty, coziness and here is still poured excellent Armenian wine.
“I will visit her,” I promise myself. - In the end, I also know how to live alone. I will not be lost, I will survive without a dog. ”
I'm sitting in "UPS!" Almost until closed. But the wine does not warm me.
* * *
I go out into the night, slightly frozen.
I promised not to say goodbye, but for some reason I go through the square.
Under the bushes, curled up with multi -colored kalachiki, stray dogs are sleeping in the cold. I find mine - I stand nearby and watch it as she sleeps, covering the nose from the cold with the tip of the tail. Swow with his nose. The dog shoots upwards and awakenly explodes frightened barking. He sees me, he immediately finds out - and jumps into his arms licking his face. I take her in my hands, stroke. He dies his forehead in my shoulder, freezes.
- Will you come with me? - I tell her.
Sad cherries look directly into my eyes.
I let it out of my hands and slowly leave. The dog is slowly following me. We cross the road together. We go out to Yerwand Kochara - followed me, completely indecisive. I am in no hurry, she runs around not far and returns again. We reach Sas. The dog stops and freezes in a rectangle of light opposite the glass doors. I am already far ahead, turn around and see how it stands, frozen: this is the border of its area. I feel that she is now making a decision.
“Choose as better for you,” I whisper and leave.
I go for a long time under the lanterns without turning around.
Soon I notice a shadow in front of me: an uncertain lame horse with a lowered tail weaves behind me.
We are embarrassedly silent and slowly walk along the night Yerevan. Woman and dog. Small flock.
We reach the Nor Vitani district - and in front of the house where I stopped, she gives me a collar to put on.
* * *
In the veterinarian’s office, I hold her by the paws while the doctor takes off the red tag. The plastic grown into the ear is slightly tearing the skin. A few drops are dripping in my arms, the dog lifts the frightened eyes-peasants on me and licks blood from my fingers. “I am her mistress, she is my dog. From this day until the end of the days. "
In the veterinary passport in the Count of "nickname", I myself enter the name in large letters. Sonya.
* * *
The idea of taking Sonya in the luggage compartment of the aircraft is unacceptable. But they explain to me that, according to the new rules, Georgia requires titras from rabies on the border - they are made for several months, and no one takes this document. At the same time, Sonya is panicky afraid to drive in the car - the ground path would be no less stress for her. I take a plane ticket.
We have breakfast at the street table in the Lebanese cafe “Atsa measures”, Sonya sits, clinging to my legs, I drink coffee and look at the city. Suddenly she jumps up and breaks from a leash-a low intelligent Armenian man with a little dog comes to us.
“Don't worry, I know this dog,” he says. And Sonya jumps to him. - She lives in the park there, I sometimes feed her. But for several days she is no longer there. I was worried. It’s good that you took it! Thank you!
- This is a very good dog! - He adds, and pierces me with a feeling of guilt: I will take the dog from her friends forever ...
- May I give her a sausage, did I take for her?
“She's already full, not necessary, thanks,” I say inexplicably stupidly and turn away so as not to burst into tears. I can’t tell him that I am taking her from the city forever.
I do not steal. I accept from you as a gift, Yerevan.
* * *
At the airport, when loading on board, Sonya spreads the cage in chips. Employees of the Zvartnitsa catch her on the runway and pass it on to me, wrapped in a luminous rescue vest. The representative of Aeroflot sincerely sympathizes with us: “Find a new cage, we will put you on the next flight without surcharges. Everything will be fine. Here we recently have a cat at the passenger for three days on the field - and they caught that! ”
“She doesn't want to leave, she is a patriot, you know!” I drag her into the cold, lack of freedom and totalitarianism! She subconsciously resists. She will not reach! I kill a living creature with my love! - We are sitting on a bench at the entrance to the airport: I yell, my friend director Vaan Grigoryan laughs, Sonya is sleeping.
“I'm sorry Anya-Dzhan, but it's just a movie ... Let's call your dog handler,” says Vaan and goes for cognac.
“This is a separation anxiety,” Nastya Egorova tells me. - Well, the roar was apparently scared. It happens that it's okay. Give her the second dose of sedatives - and fly. Pressure drops at the height, it lulls animals. And yet, you are, you yourself will have something!
I look at Sonya Sleeping - and my heart breaks out of pity.
I have to make a tough decision. Now I am the leader of the pack, I have to decide for two.
We fly away with the next flight.
I am taking the heart of the city with me.
In Sheremetyevo, Sonya barely comes out of the cage, in the eyes of the vicacons. And only when we go into the apartment, she lifts the muzzle up, sniffs the air - and begins to quietly wag the tail. He understands by the smell that we are at home.
* * *
Three months have passed.
We walk for three hours a day, study with a coach, run in the park, lie in the snow, climb the highest slides on the dog venues, learned to play the cord, run after the ball, throw and bring a stick - and even drive a car. Sonya had friends and even the best friend - the most poor male in the Australian Hilery Thunder area. They ride kubarom on the ground, run into catch -ups, dig pits and lick each other's ears.
In the evenings, we are preparing and listening to Forsha with her.
Sonya is visiting my mother when I leave on business trips. In the summer they will go to the country.
The dog goes to work with me in the editor, demonstrates the bunny to his colleagues, gives his foot and jumps over the leg.
“Well, just a circus du salts,” Muratov tends to tears*.
It seems to me that I always had a dog.
Of course, not everything is perfect: she barks at night in an apartment, still rushes at large men and couriers, picks up everything in a row on the street, pursues pigeons, raven and ducks. But we work with this.
Dogs live in "here and now", but they have a very good memory. I know that Sonya remembers Yerevan: sometimes she peers for a long time into the lights of the garden ring and whines quietly.
I know that Yerevan also remembers her.
I often gratefully and tenderness think about a man with a small dog and a piece of sausage in your pocket, about the guys who feed dogs in the park, about a girl in a stylish coat, about the waiters in the bars "UPS!" And the "viper" - and other Yerevaners, whose kindness made Sonya such a glorious, gullible and smart dog.
I would like all of them to know - we are very happy with her.
Remembering about a huge branched tree, a broken cage and separation anxiety, from the very arrival I prepared an apartment for the pogrom: I collected wires, hid my work equipment and put the surveillance cameras.
And now, each time leaving the dog alone at home, I look in the phone’s application, how - spread out of the star on the floor, curled up on her rug or hanging her legs from the kitchen sofa - Sonya sleeps strongly and serene.
This text was released in the first issue of the New Review magazine.