Site for children

THE MENAGERIE AT THE PORCH
ABOUT DOGS

HOW MANY YEARS LIVE DOGS

On earth already half dead nose
Put on the corpse of Jack.
And the people said, was the dog,
And died like a man.
Vera Inber. Setter Jack

On the 12th year of life on the forehead of the dog breaks through the gray. Soon she dies...

Record longevity, in all probability owns a hunting dog, an English Forester: dog Adjutant lived for 27 years and three months. The adjutant led unsophisticated, simple lifestyle in the lap of nature.

The other thing is a Breeze. This little mongrel dog was shaking on the vibration testing machines, mind crammed into the chamber, he did sophisticated surgery. And yet the four-legged veteran of the space that was retired in the spring of 1974 became a father. One of the pups was similar to the father, as two drops of water. Meanwhile, affectionate, patient and wise Breeze in 1966 on the satellite Kosmos-110" 22 days spent in the radiation belt of the Earth and, therefore, received a fair dose...

Perhaps the good people who wrote about the untimely death lived in the mountains of St. Bernard Barry, and S. C. Obraztsov, put wonderful and disturbing film "Who needs it, this Vaska?", where Barry appears before the audience, immortalized in stone, will be pleased to know from written records that the tragic death of Barry from the hands of the man who took him for a wolf, " it's a myth, a legend of our days. The text of the eyewitness dedicated to Barry, I found in the book of the last century. She wasn't in the district library, so let me quote a fair piece. Besides words Chatline so generous and poetic that this hymn is best to end the conversation about the dog's life.

"Yes, Barry, you were the best dog, best of all the animals! You were great, clever dog. You saved the lives of over forty people. With a basket of bread and a bottle of wine on the neck, every day you came out of the monastery in the snow and thaw to look for snow and avalanches buried... You, as a man with a gentle soul, he must be silently expressing their participation, because otherwise the little boy dug you, would not have dared to climb up to you on the back and let it carry him... But how could you understand you saved? How could you encourage and comfort them? I would like to give you the language that the people could learn from you... And you worked tirelessly, without praise or gratitude, for twelve years. I had the honor to meet you at the monastery. Of course, I respectfully withdrew before you hat. You played with your friend, as are tigers. I really wanted to get closer to you, but you growled at unfamiliar closca. I knew then and your name and his glory. If I were in trouble, you would certainly not have become me to grumble. Now you have died and your body is in the Berne Museum. The town is well made, that when thou art old, became weak and could no longer serve the people, fed you, and coast until you died. Who will see now in the Museum of your Scarecrow must remove his hat and buy your portrait and under glass to hang it on the wall of my room. Let them show it to their children and students a picture of where the child on the back you stand and ring at the gate of the monastery, and let him say to them - and do you what did this dog".

The menagerie at the porch

  © 2014 All children