What we love the four-footed pets for?In the house are silent. Only it is heard as weight clocks in a communicating room which it is possible to leave in senets gradually tick or to get both to a small recess of kitchen, and to the big room halls. Hours - beautiful. Wooden, covered with dark opaque the lodge with a window is delicious. From it the vociferous cuckoo jumps out from time to time. She knows which now hour. Also speaks about all this. That they knew too. And told me. Only I am not able to consider yet. is not present
A of the aunt. It to the Night left. Too one in a shed it is boring for that. However, in the morning, after a breakfast, we went to it to treat with a piece of a black top crust which the aunt previously, in a hut, salted coarse gray salt:
- On On, Nocha, have breakfast!
She was delighted. Stretched to us from a stall the big black muzzle with perceptible, from a horn to a horn, a white mark on a forehead. Began to breathe it is noisy, attentively glancing dark eyes at the aunt, at me. Lowed quietly and informidably. Interrogatively:
- Mu - uu With what came? Brought what tasty?
- And as! Here.
And a top crust is closer to it, to it is damp to the nose gleaming in the twilight of a shed which right there came, pushed nostrils, began to breathe mistrustfully:
- Precisely? And what?
- Precisely - precisely. Gorbushechka with salt. On Already and itself understood
that do not deceive. Brought vkusnyatinka. Having bent a neck and having slightly lifted up the head up, opened a mouth and carefully soft, warm lips - and - am And - as there was no that a top crust in a hand. And then still, collecting the remains of crumbs and grains of salt, wet, rough and a little by sticky language on a palm - shork, shork.
There too one it is boring for a night. However, in the summer near it, only in other, low fence, the curious Yashka who is eternally pushing the mobile patch in what chink pokhryukivat enough:
- Who there? What? Brought to eat?
And if it was convinced that yes - brought, began, joyfully squealing a little, to rush fussy on all fence, champing hooves on liquid medley under legs, spraying it in different directions and overturning a backet for a forage.
Glutton. Just glutton. How many the aunt will not impose to it, having accurately lifted the turned backet and having delivered it into place, all to Yashke a little. Will swallow fast and again squeals a little:
- Still I want!
Of course, so is. A muzzle crawls on a backet, to and fro, so that a half of swill is precisely splashed out on a floor. And that still will get into plate with legs and will overturn it with all what there still remained. And champs Champs as! The granny from - for a table expelled me for a long time.
Razbalovala Razbalovala his aunt. Here he also ran away into the wood. This is the father told. He learned from the uncle. The aunt - that is silent as I for Yashka asked. Offensively for it, probably. She loved it. And it
Bad Bad this Yashka. In the wood - wolves. I and that know. And... What there in the wood now? Snow. Snow! Herbs. Raspberries. Mushrooms. Nuts.
Snow. And it - cold and tasteless. Even the titmouses flying yesterday to peck a fat piece that the father strung on naked, without leaves and apples, a branch of a ranetka Even titmouses! And those know it. And Yashka Bad! For what only his aunt No, of course, it is less, than me or Kolka, but loved! For what?!
By the way, and that titmouses? Perhaps and today arrived?