She took from the drinking family the blinding beauty of the one-year-old Doberman (no one was engaged in them, could write right in the apartment).
Her husband is on a criminal investigation and returns late. But the dog loves when he comes back and has learned the phrase "Daddy has come."
The evening. The dog walked into my chair and swung up. I’m trying to push – hold on. I pretend to listen and say, “Papa has come!” The dog crashes from the place and runs to the door to meet. I sit in a chair and turn on the TV. The dog, waiting at the door for 3 minutes, returns, sees me in the chair, looks me in the eyes, breathes and lies on the floor. It passes 15 minutes. He sharply raises his head, stirring his ears, then breaks off from place and runs to the door with a loud whisper. I go to the door with the thoughts “who the hell brought so late,” I open – NONE! I go back to the chair – the dog is lying in it, swirling with a claw... No scene.