There was a huge San Bernardino. Stupid, kind and smiling. I loved everyone who came to us. But everyone who came was afraid of him. What was weird.
I went for a walk at night. In the forest (well, to make people less).
This miracle jumped into the bushes - well, interesting there! And I will encounter three drunk men... Oh, what a girl, oh, what a single girl!... And I don’t even have a voice of fear.
Suddenly the bushes move (very quietly) and the Baskerville dog comes out. Dirty, wet and smiling. He sat in front of me, cried and smiled to the men. He didn’t even grasp (he wasn’t able to do that in principle).
In my opinion, the men trembled and had not drunk in this forest for a long time.
When Lefa died, my dad said we’t have any more dogs.