The story of one of the worst moments of my life.

When I was a student in St. Petersburg, I was friends with sailors. Once a month they called me to their boat: a bath, a camouflage, and in general an exotic.
Winter, full of snow and we are on the approach to the port talking about their people:
Our dog is called Matros, a pure Caucasian. Don’t be afraid, now
He is bound.
Is he really tied...?
and precision. Recently he ate a man’s face (he wanted to tighten the engine), so hardly
The criminal case was initiated, but the Matrosus was not touched, he was
The closed territory. Only the head of the port ordered him to the chain.
It screams so terribly.
Last year, he bite his leg.
How did I bite...!? to
Like a sugar bone.
- Once there was a joke: two men climbed through the fence, one jumped and
He fell on his back and when the Matros approached him, the man with one muscle of his back.
He jumped back onto a two-meter fence.

Here we approached the secret hole in the fence, climbed through and went to our trailer along the drowned snow path. Around the snow on the belt.
The sailors came first, and I followed them. And as soon as we moved away from the fence for a hundred meters, a man-eat-Matrous ran to us with a bear's whistle.
When the seafarers saw him, they said, “Shaw, he is not bound. Don’t be afraid, pretend you’re with us.
They are good to say, they fed him sugar from birth, and what should I do...?
Here, the Matros was aligned with the head of our column, all the guys in turn dragged him by the buttocks and went on... But this scapegoat looked only at me!! to
Running back to the fence is unrealistic, blushing: the men save - not an option, this bear is scourging me, they will not have time to turn around. When the last seafarer passed by the Matros, the crocodile decided to "look what I'm looking for."
"Dry," he blocked my road like a slug: the front legs on the left side of the trail, the rear - on the right. His back was above my head. The step I decided not to slow down, in these three seconds I remembered my childhood, youth and had time to think how little I lived.
And I, without slowing down the speed, put his head in the "side". On the face
The sailors thought, “Well, fuck you, I don’t know you, but we’ll think you’re with them.” And he rushed away in his humble affairs.
That night I was not to the bath, nor to the camouflage, but how well to live in the world.