xxx: I carried a friend home, he was in the saliva, and I did not know where he lived. Well, we approach the house, I lead him, we approach the entrance, he begins to attach the key to the homephone, and I see that it is a different type of key, not from this homephone. I began to doubt that they came at the address. A friend assures that it is his house, and begins to whisper: "Those fuck the castles changed!!“!”
I think shit is happening. And it is not good to throw it away, it will be in trouble, and I don't understand where to take it, because I swear that his house, and some "they" changed the locks... he tries to apply the wrong key for 10 minutes, eventually someone opened us, passed by, and we got up and got to him home. What do you think, really fucking changed the homephone.
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Dog and Cat: The 90s
Beginning of the 90s. The breed dogs were still nonsense, but I bought a boxer puppy. I loved these dogs when I first met them.
Time was like this, there were no veterinarians, dog medicines... Generally speaking, a four-month-old puppy after cutting his ears (a boxer) in the wardrobe (where pigs were mostly cut eggs since the time of Lawrence Palych) caught parvavirus enteritis, well or popularly "olympic".
Sickness is worse than pest. The dog is rejected mucus in the stomach, in the intestines... everywhere... The dog does not eat, does not drink... in short, the mucus rejected from it comes out a few days of torment and death.
Fortunately, I was brought with a man who finished a veterinarian. He then prescribed several dozen injections four times a day, subcutaneous feeding with a large syringe of glucose with calcium, human cocarboxylase for the heart, and a very rare in those years drug camedon, which as a photo film cannot be kept in the light... Drink only water mixed with the drug Regidron! Twenty years have passed, I remember some of the drugs.
And almost all day long I needed to cuddle the puppy, boil the syringes and still do a dropper.
My question is – how? Sasha, so they called the veterinarian, said. If you want a dog to survive, don’t ask how. I’ll show you now and you’ll do it later. Otherwise the dog will die.
And the most interesting thing, I struggled to take unpaid leave at work, and for a whole month without sleep and rest, I knotted the puppy with a small handwriting from two notebook sheets. When feeding subcutaneously - on a small bite, such a weak bubble struck in the place of the injection (a huge syringe was obtained from veterinarians in the sovhospice).
A boxer named Lord. The home name “Leluka” appeared.
My cat helped me a lot. I could never have imagined in my life that my wildest red bandit, already such a solid age, the absolute dominant who walked on the street on his own, walked through thirty-three basements of cats and, most importantly, did not welcome the appearance of a puppy in the house. And this evil monster suddenly changes its priorities.
To the dying puppy the cat Egor came, lay next to him and heated that there is strength...First from the back, then slid under the stomach. He lay down, cried and heated with all his cat's irreconcilable heat.
I agree, I was quite recently, in those years I returned from the army, first was Afghanistan, and then in the 89th happened in my military life, the summer events in the Fergana Valley... Everything was, but the nerve vaccination was excellent. But when I saw all this dog-cat idyll, I really had tears.
and yes. I kept cuddling the puppy. Extending his life without knowing how it will end.
And the cat Egor, running to the street to write, returned literally twenty minutes later and settled near the puppy. The cat! by Carl! Not a cat!! to
All the nerves, betrayals and sleepless nights were rewarded with excess, when after a month with a small, the puppy finally got up, pierced to his bowl and first drank water and ate what was sharply pushed to him...
This moment as a photograph still has in my brain. I remember crying at that moment, trying to hold back my tears.
As a boxer, Leha paid the cat Egor for his help.
Our town is small, Karelian, and every second is a fisherman, and every fifth is a hunter.
Here we had a hunter who trained his seams on cats walking on the street. I don’t know why, but his two dogs broke the cats into pieces. The fact that his uncle was the director of the forest farm and an honorary citizen of the city - always relieved him from responsibility, but what is the responsibility here in the nineties?
It all happened unexpectedly, I was walking with Lord, and the cat in the yard was walking on its own... And suddenly the dog broke the steering wheel so that it took me off my feet and broke somewhere in the direction of the wilderness...
There has never been such a thing in my life, and I first fainted, then my brain worked and I saw an epic picture. My cat was sitting on a pedestrian, flooded trail in the desert and quietly slipped out. From the side of the neighboring quarter to him carried ADA dogs (which was discussed above) and to them flew overhead Lecha with a black back (in boxers during the aggression, the back becomes black).
A cat would have lived for a few seconds, if the hunting seam shot down by a red rocket did not fly off for half a meter, and the second was not crushed by a red tank.
Lord broke one, then distracted and moved to the other... I have never seen such a picture in my life that dogs equal in weight just fly in the air as in cartoons.
The owner of the sewing, despite his hundred and fifty kilos. He ran like a sprinter to save his bastards. I also fell on the other side with all my legs.
The cat, after finishing, turned around. I saw all this pipet, and stumbled to stumble, as the cat was ordered.
One of the saucers scared at the owner’s feet. From the second I barely pulled off the leech.
Of course, there were ponts that “I’ll take the gun”, “You’ll pay”... and so on. But it didn’t work :) There were objective reasons for that in those years.
Lord lived his entire dog life in dignity. I saw my wedding. Even my daughter’s newborn babysitter... And died of old age at the age of 12.
The cat Egor was killed by a fugitive criminal, refreshed and sold for a rabbit to some drunkard... After which there was a loud criminal trial in the Leningrad region in connection with the murder of a man "for cats". This is a separate story worthy of a series. The case of "killed cats" is still remembered by old investigators in Lenoblast.
This is the story of a cat and a dog.
by Deviant