• Jan 17, 2020

the Story reminiscence by the owner about a loyal canine friend whom they with the husband from the village transported once to the city.

This story is about 20 years old. Somehow we with children and grandsons stayed in the village with the husband's relatives.

Dogs on a chain in the box – the phenomenon for the village quite usual. It would be surprising not to see such street security guards at houses of locals.

How many I remember, the husband's brother never had less than two dogs. One always protects the hen house, the second is at an entrance in хоз. the yard, the third – about a garage. However, Jolly-boats, Tobiki, the Ball so often change …

In that our arrival one dog was especially remembered: small, fluffy, greyish Zhulya.

Of course, noble blood in it were not observed, but also the dog did not suit for rural life. Too scared and unfortunate it was. Its box was on the pass – from a homestead part of the site in хоз. yard. More than once the dog was pushed a boot sideways. Without the reason … Just passing by.

And as Zhulya responded on caress! All faded, appear, even ceased to breathe. I was struck: the dog (and then about 2 years were her, according to owners) did not know human touches. Except kicks, of course, when she was pushed away, drove into the box.

I was born in the village. And at us in the yard there lived dogs, cats freely walked about. But the kind word for animals who many years faithfully served family always was. I remember, both mother, and the father, bringing food, talked to dogs, ironed them. We had a dog the Pirate. He adored when to it scratched behind an ear. Took offense when owners forgot about this its habit. Could hide in the box and even refused to eat.

"The grandmother, let's take away Juliette"

When were going to leave, the granddaughter took me aside and began to persuade: "The grandmother, look what good doggie, and as to it it is bad here. Let's take away! To you with the grandfather will be more cheerful with it".

That time we left without Zhulya. But the dog sank into the soul. Kept thinking, as it, whether live …

Did not allow to forget about Zhulya also the granddaughter who we had then on summer vacation. Without having sustained arrangements, again went to the village. Zhulya, as though knew that we arrived behind her. From the imperceptible, "hammered" creation she turned into a cheerful unruly lump of happiness.

On the way home I felt heat of its small shivering little body. And so I felt sorry for her. To tears!

Transformation into the princess

Houses we first of all, of course, fed the new family member, built it the place lodge where it could hide (almost in two years she got used to live in the box).

When I bathed Zhulya, just burst into tears. Hair of a dog — fluffy, volume – hid leanness. And Juliette was such thin that her edges it was possible to probe and count fingers all.

Zhulya became our outlet

We with the husband got used to Zhulya very quickly. She is a good girl, was a remarkable dog: not impudent, obedient, devoted.

Especially my spouse liked to potter with it. He trained Juliette in teams. Though we live in the one-storey house with the fenced territory, Valery twice a day came with the favourite for long walks. He cut it wool, combed. Also indulged … Allowed even to sleep on the sofa near himself.

When the husband died, Zhulya very much grieved. But on that sofa where they spent with the owner together so much time, having nestled in front of the TV, any more never jumped. Though also did not forbid it to do to it.

Excellent friend and partner

Zhulya took of me the hint. Here did not think that dogs can be so clever. When children grew, we had doggies – both Red, and the Jolly-boat, and the snow-white beauty Belka. But with one dog I had no such mutual understanding, as with Zhulya.

Juliette was very attached by

to me. At the dacha, for example, when I left to the neighbor, the dog could come to me on traces. Sat-waited under a door. If I long was not, carried away my footwear on the laying on a verandah, laid down on it and longed.

There were people whom Zhulya awfully did not love. As they say, did not transfer to spirit. Always a quiet and peaceful dog, happened, so barked and rushed that uninvited guests and a threshold of the house could not cross. Once even bit one neighbor in giving.

I was guarded by such behavior of a dog, set thinking: whether with kind thoughts and intentions there are these or those people.

Zhulya of all recognized the and loved. Never bit, did not grin on anybody of grandsons, and then and great-grandsons. My younger son lives with family in Moscow area. When arrived to Minsk and for the first time got acquainted with a dog, she even on it did not begin a bark. Felt: the.

And the voice at it was ringing, loud. Well informed on arrival of strangers.

At a meeting with the first owner Zhulya pretended that did not recognize him

the 70 anniversary of the husband was celebrated at the dacha. All his brothers, sisters, nephews gathered. Among guests there was also Ivan from whom we took away Zhulya.

Of course, the dog at once recognized him. But as Ivan called up Juliette what vkusnyashka he allured, the dog pretended that she does not notice him. So never also approached it. And defiantly sat in legs at the best friend, the careful and loving owner – the hero of the anniversary. Perhaps, thus she felt the most protected.

I am glad that I had it

It was easy to look after the rural princess. She was not whimsical. Years of city life so it was also not spoiled. Such impression that the dog always remembered from where she was taken away from what life saved. Also she was grateful for it.

Julia presented to us many pleasant minutes.

Leaving of a dog was heavy for me. Of course, I saw how it dies away., It seems, also understood that time has come (Juliette lived more than 10 years with us), but nevertheless hoped: still will live. But on the other hand, worried: who will be needs my growing old, not purebred, rural princess if suddenly something happens to me …

All photos: from personal archive of Evgenia Niemogai.


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