When I was very young, I noticed a strange ritual in dogs - to smell each other under the tail when they meet. The meaning of this was incomprehensible, he turned to his father for explanations. The East had the following story:



A long time ago, dogs wanted to go to the moon. They decided to jump each other on their backs and thus build a tower to the moon itself. But when they almost reached her, a dog down there cracked, and they all dispersed. Now they go and look for who it was.”



It sounded credible. I don't know if my father invented it himself or heard it somewhere, but I remembered the story. And so far (I 32), as I see dogs dating on the street, I remember it - they still did not find it, they are looking for everything)

I remembered a case from the high school life.



English lesson, an exercise for understanding the oral narrative. The teacher turns on the tape, everyone is listening carefully, and then they must briefly recount the essence and answer the questions.



From the very beginning the story seemed strange to me, because in it the hero with admiration told about some of his “mistress”, which translates, including, and as a “lover” or “ladies”. Adolescent hormones of the spermatoxic body immediately drawn in the mind love BDSM-toys, which is why I was quite squeezed, because from the school lesson this is expected in the last place. The hero, in the meantime, had already tweeted something about the lady’s expectation, about her magnificent legs to which he wanted to cling soon. The degree of my defamation grew in geometric progression, and to the BDSM in the imagination was added foot fetishism, although in those years I, unspoiled by the internet, did not even know of its existence. I looked at the faces of classmates with round eyes and saw nothing special on them, which confused me quite.



It seems that my reaction did not go unnoticed, because at the end of the story to answer called me. I probably reminded Randy of the South Park episode of the "Naggers" at that time, because I remembered the story very well (yet, I caught every word of the storyteller), but it was somehow absolutely uncomfortable to tell this to the teacher. Red and closed and began to describe what he heard in his own words. Somewhere in the middle of my talk, the teacher started to red, and from the neighboring sides, a silenced "squeeze" was heard, turning into rotting rust.



To pay tribute, I was allowed to bring the story to the end, and then asked the only question: from whose face was the story? I could not answer it, because the atmosphere in the class at that time was quite wild, and I could definitely not understand what was going on. The teacher answered the question, and this answer not only put everything in place, but also burned the whole case forever in memory, making it the reference definition of the word "shame".



The story was told in the face of the dog who was waiting for the master’s return (“mistress”).

We are asked to look closely into the future so that we do not notice the present.

This is not a funny story, but I wanted to share it.

At one time, I was familiar with a lady who was the owner of a very large dog, possibly a wolf and a domestic German Shepherd.

Over time, this lady and I had a river of events.
The dog has not forgotten me. At the time I loved walking, and now I enjoy it. But then I noticed, as I was walking in my direction, that dog was accompanying me.
At first I just thought he was guarding the house and the house from me, but then he started running next to me and we started talking to him. I spoke, and he was either silent or running in front of me, and as if he wanted to say something to me.

It became usual. He accompanied me halfway there, and from there he met me. I started buying him some tastes, as they call it now.

One day, I had to go back closer to the night. I carried an expensive mat.pay for PC.
And I literally didn’t get a few meters to the crossroads when I was surrounded by Gypsies.

I can imagine my thoughts at that moment. At that moment, a dog came from nowhere. And quietly walked next to me, while I, licking cold afterwards, almost flew home.

The memory of him (he is no longer).

The feminism demanded that April 1st be renamed the Day of the Fool to the Day of the Fool.