Peter Ivanovich got up early. He usually walked with Grey at this time. There was no one to walk with. Peter Ivanovich dressed up and went on the usual route. He went and thought about the 14 years he lived with Grey. Yellow dried leaves sprinkled under my feet. Then they agreed with their wife that this would be their last dog. At that time, they were 60 and Grey was 5 months old. The puppy was so touching and thick, uncomfortable, curious and talented. And now it is all over. Peter Ivanovich turned and went to the house. In front of him was a girl, almost a girl, next to her was a young dog with a gray face.
Their own? Asked Peter Ivanovich.
“No,” the girl replied, “in the neighboring apartment a man died, and the shepherd remained. The relatives were given two weeks to fix it, otherwise they would be dropped or thrown out. And Jack is old, he is 10 years old, and no one needs the old man. Here, I go into the 11th apartment, feed him, and walk out. I try to set up.
“Happy luck,” said Peter Ivanovich, and went on.
He was thinking about the old Jack all day, but he never hesitated to talk to his wife. The night came, and I fell asleep in the morning. He slept longer than usual, and when he got up, his wife was not at home. There was a note in the kitchen: “I went to the store.” Peter Ivanovich decided, quickly dressed, grabbed Grey's clue, and almost ran to the house where he met the girl. The September rain bubbled on the umbrella. He called the apartment. He was opened by a gentle woman.
I am about the dog. Are you giving the dog? Asked Peter Ivanovich.
“And I threw it out,” the woman replied, “but I missed the dogs here.
You said you have two weeks.
Not enough what I said. Tired, eaten a lot, and sleeping on the couch. If you need it, look for it near the house, I put it out on the street.
Peter Ivanovich walked around the house, ran around the neighborhood, the dog was nowhere.
“Old man, he will not last long on the street,” thought Peter Ivanovich, “you have to put on a jacket and go look for it.
Peter Ivanovich had almost reached his house when his wife called.
Pete, please do not argue.
Again, no matter what the bombardment fed, or the cat removed from the tree, - thought Petro Ivanovich.
Let me talk, he said.
“You know, I was going out of the store, and he was sitting in the yard, through two houses, right under the rain. And the note was: “Take it, I don’t need it,” and a folder with his documents. I know, Pete, we have agreed. He is grey just like us. Don’t be angry, Pettie.
Peter Ivanovich looked forward. Under the streams of rain, at 20 meters, his wife stood. In one hand she held a bag of food and in the other a phone. Jack was sitting at her feet. Peter Ivanovich ran to his wife. Her gray hair was wet, her glasses were completely swollen. He kissed her cold cheeks and went shopping.
Three of them went home in the rainy rain.
by Elena Andriaš