The Horse

When my friend Vasie's mother died, my father also wandered. Although apparently, for his seventy-six, he was vigilant and subdued, but the mind began slowly to leave his wise head.
and Alzheimer.
You want – you don’t want, and Vase had to go through the wild traffic jams of Moscow every day to see his father. The old man did not want to move to his son in any way, but suddenly the mother "from the store" will return, and at home no one (he sometimes forgot that he buried his wife...) It is clear that in such a state you will not leave him for a long time - the gas will not turn off, the castle will not be able to open, will not find the road from the bakery, or not. Here was Vasya after work and prayed to his daddy.
There carried - food and good mood, and vice versa - thirst and unbearable pity for the father.

Every day began like this:
A great Cossack!
Hi Dad.
Where is your car? I hope you guessed to put it in the garage, or we have some drug addicts in the yard, can scratch.
I put, I put, don’t worry (Vasya lied, although their garage was demolished during Brezhnev)
Where is the horse? Freezing on the street? Hurry back, drive your jeep out of the garage and take a horse there. The car will survive, but the horses on the street are completely tubular. You laugh, it’s cold.

The old man lived in Moscow for fifty years, but now, at the end of his life, he was increasingly seen paintings from the distant Krasnodar childhood, with horses, senoval and basements with ice.

“Don’t worry, Dad, of course, I did so – the horse fed, drank, took it to the garage, and left the car on the street. I chose a place without drugs and left, so everything is okay.
Well, this is a good man, son, a good man. What news about my grandchildren?

One evening, he took Vasa with his wife and daughters to Kuzminki Park.
They walk, they see – two young girls ride their babies on an old, sad cabbage.
Vasina's daughter also wanted to ride a horse, but Vasa had a crazy idea.
He put his wife and children in a taxi, and he left to trade with the girls.
He traded long and passionately, promised good money, and the girls were all afraid, the offer was strange, but after seeing the certificate of an emergency service employee, they still agreed.
In addition, Vasya promised to drive the girl from the barracks to the houses after all, because the subway will no longer go.
And here, after four hours of journey, having wrecked half of Moscow with horse debris, Vasya, a sad goat and two tired girls, were already at the entrance of the old man.
The father came down from his twentieth floor, Vasya brought the horse to the lamp and said:
“Dad, I need your advice: look, is it time for me to move the horse, or let it go like this?

The old man looked carefully at the sad goat, gently stumbled on her thick belly, looked at the goat in business and said:
Don’t worry, she’s good, she’s good, she’s good.
In general, her appearance is right. It was a good winter in the garage, good son. I thought you’re cuddling the cattle, but I’m looking at it, no, good. But here you put her wrongly, and for that I will blame you.
The old man fixed something, pulled it somewhere and suddenly scratched easily into the saddle.
The girls who stood by the way, so and wept, but Vasya calmed them with a gesture.
The Kazak made a relentless, three-metre circle of honor, descended to the ground and said:
- You have a good man, son, I am proud of you, and what good children I have raised and your horse is good.
To be honest, I thought you were going to die stupid.
Well, it’s late, it’s time to take the horse into the garage. Remember, a horse in the garage is a car on the street. Remembered it? Go on, go on. Until tomorrow.

A week later, the old Cossack quietly died in his sleep.

P.S

I’m not sure that children should be bailed, but parents must be bailed.