Once I rented an apartment and next to it, behind the wall, (but the apartment went out to the neighboring entrance) a woman lived, forever struggling with her dog.

The poor dog got everything:

“With dirty legs,”

for not eating properly,

And for eating around the bowl,

and for the “Cobelin, where do you prey.”

And she cried, "I'd better have a pig, eat less, and then you can hit."

I was very sorry for the dog. And then one day she discovered that she had no dog, only her husband.