The dog tears.

Yesterday, returning from a walk, we met a group of six people and three dogs: two men, two women, children of different ages, two young Labradors and a beautiful basset hound. Basset was good! Large, strong, brown-red-white colour, with long ears and smart eyes – just a look. We stopped to admire the basset and its masters on our Scottish terrier. During the conversation it became clear that they had two bassets, the sister of the beautiful man somewhere in the woods and is about to appear. Well, we talked and broke up, the sister of the basset never appeared although the owners called her on all the voices.

On the right side of the road, behind the bushes and trees, there was a river. A fast and cold river carried the water of the melting glaciers of Alaska into the Pacific Ocean. There was plenty of water and we watched for our Scottish man not to get near the river; there were crumbling and slippery shores unnoticed by the high grass. On the way back, the Scottish man did not rush very much anywhere, but flocked behind, shaking out of the heat, showing us with all his appearance that "you are in shorts at all, and I am in a shirt at all, and even after all my haircuts, I am still not naked."

My husband is a retired military doctor; he has a great sense of humor, but quite specific as military doctors have seen and experienced a lot. So I wasn’t surprised when he suddenly began to loudly and longly, imitating the loud basset. The Scots were not surprised either. We continued to go. My husband continued to cuddle and cuddle. I began to offer him variants of hoodies, hoodie designs and dog food that would best fit with beer. But suddenly, from the side of the river, a dog began to loudly and longly laugh.

Although it seemed to me that the dog was lying on the other shore, we stopped and my husband began to look at the grass along the road. If he found a path in the grass, he walked on it to the river, looking at the dog. At the same time, he continued to laugh and swing, the dog responded to him, she was very close. Our dog, tired of the hike and the heat, just quietly watched the show. I too. Suddenly the man shouted, “I found it! It is in the water!”

I had to run back to find the dog’s owner. Fortunately, they had already returned, suspecting something wrong. I shrugged her hand, pointing to the river. The men ran to meet me.

The bass sister crashed from a break of about two meters. She was holding her foreheads to the roots of the trees, but her body was already completely in the water. She stayed in the ice water for about thirty minutes and only the strong legs of the basset helped her not to crash into the water. The river revelled, stifling the dog’s squid, she had no chance to climb to the shore herself, she was virtually doomed.

The outbreak was steep and wet, it would be difficult to pull out the dog alone, even the three men were accompanied for quite a long time. I stood on the road helping women hold their remaining three dogs and children. All of this was used to help men.

The men finally appeared. Wrapped in clay, but happy. The owner carried his sister’s swimsuit in his arms. Both were wet, as it turned out later he also fell into the water. Molly's sister was bright red with white legs, white face, and light brown eyes. She trembled with great trembling. and. and. I was crying.

All the way back, the husband told in detail the operation to rescue the dog and how its owner crashed into the water and how difficult it was to hold him wet hands and how, seeing the helpless dog in the water, he again felt the fear of the doctor to lose the patient. And I all remembered the eyes of the dog and her tears – she was not abandoned, she was returned, she was saved.