I walk the dog in the morning. Pavlov passes the road. He looks at us, he says with a disgusting voice, and hides himself in the forest on the other side of the street. I immediately thought on yesterday’s mushroom soup – that the mushrooms were wrong. But the dog did not eat mushroom soup. He also actually saw Poppy. A slightly harsh such a dog sat on my foot and cried a little. I stand — digest information — I see a man running through the street and children with him. The man sees our and the dog’s rows and asks, “Where did he go?” and the children run ahead of him and shout “Sasha!” Return to"
Pavlin Saša on our street. I am afraid.