station dog

I don’t like feeding stray dogs. Not because I don’t feel sorry for them, but quite the opposite: I don’t want to give rise to unrealizable hopes and illusions. And if I leave food, then so that they can find it, but they don’t see who delivered the “humanitarian aid”. In order not to bind…

But she didn’t need food to make you the object of her affection. She simply chose people who seemed to her suitable for the role of the “pack”. On what basis this was done is unclear. But, one way or another, I was among the “chosen ones” … She was a rather large, light-red, pointed mongrel and lived at the Zagorye station. She could often be seen lying near the ticket office, sometimes the tramp was allowed inside to warm herself and, apparently, fed, because she was not thin. The dog appeared there suddenly, as if from nowhere, and the very first time we met, he treated me as if we were old friends who had not seen each other for at least a century. She jumped, whimpered, rubbed against her legs, helped me buy a ticket, and then ran after me to the platform. I honestly tried not to pay attention to her and was very afraid that the dog would climb into the car after me, but as soon as the train arrived, she walked back to the ticket office with an independent look. And so our strange friendship began. For the muzzle, the dog received the code name Fox ( with an accent on “and”). Each of my appearances at the station was accompanied by a storm of delight, and the dog had little interest in food. In any case, when I finally gave in and started bringing her sausage, Lisa ate it only as long as I stood by. As soon as I moved away, she immediately threw food and ran after me. However, as already mentioned, the dog was clearly not starving. Yes, and she needed something else. Liska’s canine nature could not stand loneliness, and it was vital for her to feel at least for 10 minutes like someone else, significant for someone, at least a little loved … It even got to the point that she began to … protect me from other people. When Liska was around, she growled menacingly at anyone who dared to pass too close, in her opinion. And one day it almost ended sadly for her. Then my horse Ryzhul already felt bad, I went to the stable every day, leaving early from work, and then I returned to it, I was terribly tired and somehow weakly reacted to the surrounding reality. And the dog, as if sensing my condition, behaved surprisingly quietly. She, as always, met me at the cash register, ate her portion of liverka and sat down next to wait for the train, periodically timidly shoving my hand with her nose on the subject of “stroking”. And a not very sober type passed by, at which Liska growled quietly, but quite distinctly. Well, he, having decided, obviously, to prove his “coolness”, stamped his foot on her, in response to which the dog burst into furious barking, which in turn caused a stream of abuse and aggressive attacks. Some kind-hearted woman standing nearby tried to reason with the wino, but he got even more excited and at some point, talking nonsense about his rich cynological experience, tried to poke a cigarette in the dog’s face. And then all the experiences of the last days swept over me with incredible force, and I didn’t even shout, but growled: – ***** ******, GET OUT OF HERE!!!! But NOT THAT … Apparently, there was something in this, because the peasant, without listening to what punishments I was going to call on his head, suddenly backed away, almost fell onto the rails and muttered: – Okay, okay, just hold the dog … – OUT!!! I barked, clasping Liska by the neck with one hand. And the dog, as if nothing had happened, wagging its tail, licked my palm and, waiting for me to hide in the bowels of the car, wandered to its favorite place. Later I learned that in this way she welcomes not only me, that she has there are several other friends.  In a few months, I got so used to Liska’s society that when I once again did not find her at the station, without even realizing it, I felt some kind of emptiness. And when I realized what was missing, I tried cowardly to reassure myself that you never know what urgent dog business she had … But the dog did not appear the next time, and then. I didn’t see her again. Of course, one could find out where she shared. I don’t think it would be difficult. But I didn’t. I don’t think I want to know the truth. And yet, every time I approached the station and saw in the distance a light-red dog silhouette, I hoped that it was she. But every time I was wrong…