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Year of writing: 1925

First publication: in the magazines "Frontiers" (Frankfurt) and "Student" (London) in 1968 almost simultaneously.

For the first time in the Soviet Union, the story Heart of a Dog was published in 1987 and has been reprinted many times since then.

as prototypes literary character Professor F. F. Preobrazhensky are called several real doctors. This is Bulgakov's uncle, gynecologist Nikolai Pokrovsky, surgeon Sergei Voronov. In addition, a number of well-known contemporaries of the author, the scientist Bekhterev, the physiologist Pavlov and the founder of the Soviet state, Lenin, are called as prototypes.
We consider the story of Mikhail Bulgakov Heart of a Dog to be the second most important work after the Master and Margarita ...

Professor of Medicine, Eminent Surgeon, Philip Filippovich Preobrazhensky, managed to achieve in 1924, in Moscow, excellent results in human rejuvenation. He set out to continue medical research and decided on an unprecedented experiment - to perform an operation on a dog to transplant a human pituitary gland. As a test subject, a homeless dog was chosen, named "Sharik", which the professor picked up on the street. The dog ended up in a spacious apartment, he was well fed, looked after. Sharik formed the idea that he was special... The donor organs that Sharik got during the operation belonged to Klim Chugunkin, who died in a fight, a thief, a brawler and an alcoholic.

The experiment was a success, the results exceeded the wildest expectations. The dog's limbs were stretched out, the dog lost its hair, the ability to pronounce sounds first, then words, and later full-fledged speech ... The dog began to look like a person in appearance ... Moscow was filled with rumors about miraculous transformations taking place in the laboratory of Professor Preobrazhensky. But very soon the professor had to regret what he had done. Sharik inherited from Klim Chugunkin all the most unpleasant habits, he received not only physical, but also psychological humanization. Polygraph Polygraphovich Sharikov (he gave himself this name) discovered in himself an addiction to terrible foul language, drunkenness, fornication, theft, vanity, tavern revels and reasoning about the proletarian idea. Sharikov gets a job as the head of the department for cleaning the city from homeless animals. He was helped in this by the chairman of the house committee, Shvonder, who hoped in this way, with the help of Sharikov, to survive Professor Preobrazhensky from a large apartment.

Sharikov likes his work very much, a company car comes for him every day, the professor's servant treats him with servility, and he does not feel obliged to Professor Preobrazhensky and Dr. Bormental, who are still trying to make a man out of Sharikov, instilling in him the basics of cultural life. He, like an evil dog, enjoys killing stray cats, but according to Professor Preobrazhensky, "cats are temporary." Sharikov brought to the professor's apartment a young girl he had hired, from whom he hid his biography. The girl learns from the professor the truth about the origin of Sharikov and refuses the courtship of Polygraph Poligrafovich - and then he threatens to fire her. Dr. Bormental stands up for the girl...

After numerous misadventures of Sharikov, Dr. Bormental, together with Professor Preobrazhensky, conduct new operation, returning Sharikov to his original appearance. The dog does not remember anything from what he did in human form, he remains to live in the apartment of Philip Filippovich Preobrazhensky.

Happy reading!

The story "Heart of a Dog" Bulgakov wrote in 1925. At this time, the ideas of improving the human race with the help of advanced scientific achievements were very popular. Bulgakov's hero, world-famous professor Preobrazhensky, in an attempt to unravel the secret eternal youth accidentally makes a discovery that allows him to surgically turn an animal into a human. However, an experiment on transplanting a human pituitary gland into a dog gives a completely unexpected result.

To get acquainted with the most important details of the work, we suggest reading summary Bulgakov's story "Heart of a Dog" chapter by chapter online on our website.

main characters

Ball- a stray dog. To some extent a philosopher, worldly intelligent, observant and even learned to read the signs.

Polygraph Poligrafovich Sharikov- A ball after an operation to implant a human pituitary gland into the brain, taken from a drunkard and rowdy Klim Chugunkin who died in a tavern brawl.

Professor Philip Preobrazhensky- a genius of medicine, an elderly intellectual of the old school, extremely dissatisfied with the onset of a new era and hating its hero - the proletarian for ignorance and unreasonable ambitions.

Ivan Arnoldovich Bormental- a young doctor, a student of Preobrazhensky, who deifies his teacher and shares his beliefs.

Shvonder- Chairman of the house committee at the place of residence of Preobrazhensky, carrier and distributor of communist ideas so unloved by the professor. He is trying to educate Sharikov in the spirit of these ideas.

Other characters

Zina- Preobrazhensky's maid, a young impressionable girl. Combines household duties with the functions of a nurse.

Daria Petrovna- Preobrazhensky's cook, a middle-aged woman.

Young lady typist- subordinate in the service and failed wife of Sharikov.

Chapter one

The stray dog ​​Sharik freezes in a Moscow gateway. Suffering from pain in his side, on which the evil cook splashed boiling water, he ironically and philosophically describes his unhappy life, Moscow life and types of people, of which, in his opinion, the most vile are janitors and porters. A certain gentleman in a fur coat appears in the field of view of the dog and feeds him with cheap sausage. Sharik faithfully follows him, wondering along the way who his benefactor is, since even the doorman in a rich house, a storm of stray dogs, speaks obsequiously to him.

From a conversation with a porter, a gentleman in a fur coat learns that "residential comrades have been moved into the third apartment," and perceives the news with horror, although the upcoming "seal" will not affect his personal living space.

Chapter Two

Having brought him to a rich warm apartment, Sharik, who decided to make a scandal out of fright, is put to sleep with chloroform and treated. After that, the dog, who is no longer bothered by the side, watches with curiosity at the reception of patients. There is an elderly ladies' man, and an elderly rich lady in love with a handsome young cheater. And everyone wants one thing - rejuvenation. Preobrazhensky is ready to help them - for good money.
In the evening, members of the house committee, headed by Shvonder, pay a visit to the professor - they want Preobrazhensky to give two of his seven rooms in the order of "seal". The professor calls one of his influential patients with a complaint about the arbitrariness and invites him, if so, to be operated on by Shvonder, and he himself will leave for Sochi. Leaving, members of the house committee accuse Preobrazhensky of hatred for the proletariat.

Chapter Three

Over dinner, Preobrazhensky rants about food culture and the proletariat, recommending that no Soviet newspapers be read before dinner in order to avoid digestive problems. He is sincerely perplexed and indignant at how it is possible to stand up for the rights of workers all over the world and steal galoshes at the same time. Hearing how a meeting of housing comrades sings revolutionary songs behind the wall, the professor comes to the conclusion: “If I, instead of operating every evening, start singing in chorus in my apartment, I will be devastated. If, on entering the lavatory, I begin, pardon the expression, to urinate past the toilet bowl, and Zina and Darya Petrovna do the same, devastation will begin in the lavatory. Consequently, the devastation is not in the closets, but in the heads. So, when these baritones shout "beat the devastation!" - I am laughing. I swear to you, I'm laughing! This means that each of them must hit himself on the back of the head!” .

There is also talk about the future of Sharik, and the intrigue has not yet been revealed, but the pathologists familiar to Bormenthal promised to immediately inform about the appearance of a “suitable corpse”, and the dog will be observed for now.

They buy Sharik a status collar, he eats deliciously, his side is finally healing. The dog is naughty, but when the indignant Zina suggests tearing him out, the professor strictly forbids this: “You can’t fight anyone, you can only act on a person and an animal by suggestion.”

Only Sharik took root in the apartment - suddenly after phone call running around begins, the professor demands dinner earlier. Sharik, having been deprived of food, is locked in the bathroom, after which he is dragged to the examination room and given anesthesia.

Chapter Four

Preobrazhensky and Bormental are operating on Sharik. He is implanted with testicles and pituitary gland taken from a fresh human corpse. This should, according to the plan of physicians, open up new horizons in their study of the mechanism of rejuvenation.

The professor, not without sadness, suggests that the dog will definitely not survive after such an operation, like those animals that were before him.

Chapter Five

The diary of Dr. Bormenthal is a history of Sharik's illness, which describes the changes taking place with the operated and still surviving dog. His hair falls out, the shape of the skull changes, barking becomes like a human voice, bones grow rapidly. He utters strange words - it turns out that street dog I learned to read from signs, but some I read from the end. The young doctor makes an enthusiastic conclusion - a change in the pituitary gland does not give rejuvenation, but complete humanization - and emotionally calls his teacher a genius. However, the professor himself frowningly sits over the history of the disease of a man whose pituitary gland was transplanted to Sharik.

Chapter Six

Doctors are trying to educate their creation, to instill the necessary skills, to educate. Sharik's taste in clothes, his speech and habits unnerve the intelligent Preobrazhensky. Posters hang around the apartment, prohibiting swearing, spitting, throwing cigarette butts, chewing seeds. Sharik himself has a passive-aggressive attitude towards education: “They grabbed the animal, slashed the head with a knife, and now they shun” . After talking with the house committee, the former dog confidently uses clerical terms and demands to issue him an identity card. He chooses the name "Polygraph Poligrafovich" for himself, but he takes the "hereditary" surname - Sharikov.

The professor expresses a desire to buy any room in the house and move Polygraph Poligrafovich there, but Shvonder gloatingly refuses him, recalling their ideological conflict. Soon a communal disaster occurs in the professor's apartment: Sharikov chased the cat and caused a flood in the bathroom.

Chapter Seven

Sharikov drinks vodka at dinner, like an experienced alcoholic. Looking at this, the professor sighs incomprehensibly: "There's nothing to be done - Klim." In the evening, Sharikov wants to go to the circus, but when Preobrazhensky offers him a more cultural entertainment - the theater, he refuses, because this is "one counter-revolution." The professor is about to give Sharikov something to read, even Robinson, but he is already reading the correspondence between Engels and Kautsky given to him by Shvonder. True, he manages to understand a little - except that "take everything, and even share it." Hearing this, the professor invites him to “share” the lost profit from the fact that on the day of the flood the reception of patients failed - to pay 130 rubles “for a tap and for a cat”, and orders Zina to burn the book.

Having sent Sharikov, accompanied by Bormental, to the circus, Preobrazhensky looks at the canned pituitary gland of the dog Sharik for a long time and says: “Honest to God, I seem to make up my mind.”

Chapter Eight

A new scandal - Sharikov, waving documents, claims to live in the professor's apartment. He promises to shoot Shvonder and in return for eviction threatens Polygraph with deprivation of food. Sharikov calms down, but not for long - he stole two gold coins in the professor's office, and he tried to blame the theft on Zina, got drunk and brought drinking companions to the house, after the expulsion of which Preobrazhensky lost his malachite ashtray, beaver hat and favorite cane.

Bormental confesses his love and respect to Preobrazhensky over cognac and offers to personally feed Sharikov with arsenic. The professor objects - he, a world-famous scientist, will be able to avoid responsibility for the murder, but the young doctor is unlikely. He sadly admits his scientific mistake: “For five years I have been sitting, picking out appendages from the brains ... And now, one asks - why? To one day the cutest dog turn into such scum that your hair stand on end. […] Two convictions, alcoholism, “to share everything”, a hat and two gold pieces are gone, a boor and a pig… In a word, the pituitary gland is a closed chamber that defines a given human face. Given!" Meanwhile, the pituitary gland for Sharikov was taken from a certain Klim Chugunkin, a recidivist criminal, an alcoholic and a brawler who played the balalaika in taverns and was stabbed to death in a drunken brawl. Doctors gloomily imagine what a nightmare with such "heredity" can result from Sharikov under the influence of Shvonder.

At night, Daria Petrovna expels the drunken Polygraph from the kitchen, Bormental promises to make a scandal for him in the morning, but Sharikov disappears, and when he returns, he says that he got a job - head of the subdepartment for cleaning Moscow from stray animals.

A young typist appears in the apartment, whom Sharikov introduces as his bride. She opens her eyes to the lies of the Polygraph - he is not at all the commander of the Red Army and was not wounded at all in battles with the whites, as he claimed in a conversation with the girl. The exposed Sharikov threatens the typist with layoffs, Bormental takes the girl under protection and promises to shoot Sharikov.

Chapter Nine

The professor comes to his former patient - an influential man in military uniform. From his story, Preobrazhensky learns that Sharikov wrote a denunciation against him and Bormental - allegedly they made death threats against Polygraph and Shvonder, made counter-revolutionary speeches, illegally stored weapons, etc. After that, Sharikov is categorically offered to get out of the apartment, but at first he becomes stubborn, then becomes impudent, and in the end he even pulls out a gun. The doctors twist him, disarm him and put him to sleep with chloroform, after which a ban on anyone to enter or leave the apartment sounds and some activity begins in the observation room.

Chapter Ten (epilogue)

The police come to the professor's apartment on a tip from Shvonder. They have a search warrant and, based on the results, an arrest on charges of Sharikov's murder.

However, Preobrazhensky is calm - he says that his laboratory creature suddenly and inexplicably degraded from a man back into a dog, and shows the police and the investigator a strange creature, in which the features of Polygraph Polygraphovich are still recognizable.

The dog Sharik, who had his canine pituitary gland returned through a second operation, remains to live and bliss in the professor’s apartment, without understanding why he was “slashed all over his head.”

Conclusion

In the story "Heart of a Dog", Bulgakov, in addition to the philosophical motive of punishment for interfering in the affairs of nature, outlined the themes characteristic of him, stigmatizing ignorance, cruelty, abuse of power and stupidity. The carriers of these shortcomings are the new "masters of life" who want to change the world, but do not possess the wisdom and humanism necessary for this. The main idea of ​​the work is “devastation is not in the closets, but in the heads”.

Brief retelling"Heart of a Dog" chapter by chapter is not enough to fully appreciate the artistic merits of this work, so we recommend that you take the time and read this short story in full. We also recommend that you familiarize yourself with the 1988 two-part film of the same name by Vladimir Bortko, which is quite close to the literary original.

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Retelling rating

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Michael Bulgakov

DOG'S HEART

Woo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo! Oh look at me, I'm dying. A blizzard in the gateway roars my waste, and I howl with it. I'm lost, I'm lost. A scoundrel in a dirty cap - the cook of the canteen of the Normal Nutrition of Employees of the Central Council of the National Economy - splashed boiling water and scalded my left side. What a reptile, and also a proletarian. My God, my God - how it hurts! Boiling water ate to the bone. Now I'm howling, howling, but howling help.

What did I do to him? Will I really devour the Council of the National Economy if I rummage through the rubbish heap? Greedy creature! Do you ever look at his face: after all, he is wider across himself. A thief with a copper muzzle. Ah, people, people. At noon, the cap treated me with boiling water, and now it's dark, about four o'clock at about noon, judging by the smell of onions from the Prechistenskaya fire brigade. Firefighters eat porridge for dinner, as you know. But this is the last thing, like mushrooms. Familiar dogs from Prechistenka, however, told that on the Neglinny in the restaurant "Bar" they eat the usual dish - mushrooms, pican sauce for three rubles seventy-five kopecks a serving. This is an amateur business - it’s the same as licking a galosh ... Oo-o-o-o-o ...

The side hurts unbearably, and the distance of my career is clearly visible to me: tomorrow ulcers will appear and, one wonders, how will I treat them? In the summer you can hit the road to Sokolniki, there is a special, very good weed, and besides, you will get drunk on sausage heads for free, citizens will scribble greasy paper, you will get drunk. And if it weren’t for some grimza that sings in a circle in the moonlight - “dear Aida” - so that the heart falls, it would be great. Now where are you going? Didn't they hit you on the backside with a boot? Billy. Did you get a brick in the ribs? It's enough to eat. I have experienced everything, I reconcile with my fate, and if I cry now, it is only from physical pain and cold, because my spirit has not yet died out ... The spirit of a dog is tenacious.

But my body is broken, beaten, people abused it enough. After all, the main thing is that - as he hit it with boiling water, it ate through the wool, and therefore there is no protection for the left side. I can very easily get pneumonia, and if I get it, I, citizens, will die of hunger. With pneumonia, one is supposed to lie on the front door under the stairs, and who will take the place of me, lying single dog, will run through weed boxes in search of food? A lung will catch, I will crawl on my stomach, I will weaken, and any specialist will knock me to death with a stick. And the janitors with badges will grab me by the legs and throw me onto a cart ...

Janitors of all the proletarians are the most vile scum. Human cleanings are the lowest category. The cook comes across different. For example - the late Vlas from Prechistenka. How many lives did he save? Because the most important thing during an illness is to intercept the cous. And so, it used to be, say the old dogs, Vlas waved a bone, and on it was an eighth of meat. God rest him for being a real person, the lordly cook of Counts Tolstoy, and not from the Council of Normal Nutrition. What they do there in a normal diet is incomprehensible to the dog's mind. After all, they, the bastards, cook cabbage soup from stinking corned beef, and those poor fellows don’t know anything. They run, they eat, they lap.

Some typist gets four and a half chervonets in the ninth category, well, really, her lover will give her phildepers stockings. Why, how much bullying she has to endure for this phildepers. After all, he does not in any ordinary way, but subjects her to French love. Bastards these French, speaking between us. Although they burst richly, and all with red wine. Yes... The typist will come running, because you won't go to the Bar for four and a half. She does not have enough for the cinema, and the cinema for women is the only consolation in life. He trembles, frowns, and bursts… Just think: forty kopecks from two dishes, and both of these dishes are not worth five kopecks, because the supply manager stole the remaining twenty-five kopecks. Does she really need such a table? The top of her right lung is not in order, and a woman's disease on French soil, she was deducted from her in the service, fed with rotten meat in the dining room, here she is, there she is ... She runs into the doorway in her lover's stockings. Her legs are cold, her stomach is blowing, because her hair is like mine, and she wears cold trousers, one lace appearance. Rip for a lover. Put on some flannel, try it, he will scream: how elegant you are! I'm tired of my Matryona, I've been tormented with flannel pants, now my time has come. I am now the chairman, and no matter how much I steal - everything is on female body, on cancer necks, on Abrau-Durso. Because I was hungry enough in my youth, it will be with me, and the afterlife does not exist.

I pity her, I pity her! But I feel even more sorry for myself. Not out of selfishness I say, oh no, but because we really are not on an equal footing. At least it’s warm at home for her, but for me, and for me ... Where will I go? U-u-u-u-u!..

Cut, cut, cut! Sharik, and Sharik ... Why are you whining, poor thing? Who hurt you? Wow...

The witch, a dry blizzard, rattled the gates and drove the young lady on the ear with a broomstick. She fluffed her skirt up to her knees, exposed cream-colored stockings and a narrow strip of badly laundered lace underwear, strangled the words and swept the dog away.

Oh my God... What a weather... Wow... And my stomach hurts. It's corned beef, it's corned beef! And when will it all end?

Bending her head, the young lady rushed to the attack, broke through the gate, and in the street she began to twirl, twirl, scatter, then screwed with a snow screw, and she disappeared.

And the dog remained in the gateway and, suffering from a mutilated side, clung to the cold wall, suffocated and firmly decided that he would not go anywhere else from here, and would die in the gateway. Despair overwhelmed him. His heart was so painful and bitter, so lonely and frightening, that small dog tears, like pimples, crawled out of his eyes and immediately dried up. The damaged side stuck out in frozen clods, and between them ominous red spots of scald looked. How senseless, stupid, cruel cooks are. "Sharik" - she called him ... What the hell is "Sharik"? Sharik means round, well-fed, stupid, eats oatmeal, the son of noble parents, and he is shaggy, lanky and torn, a fried shawl, a homeless dog. However, thanks for the kind words.

The door across the street to the brightly lit store slammed and a citizen emerged. It is a citizen, not a comrade, and even - most likely - a master. Closer - clearer - sir. Do you think I judge by the coat? Nonsense. Coats are now worn by many of the proletarians. True, the collars are not the same, there is nothing to say about this, but still one can confuse them from a distance. But in the eyes - here you can’t confuse it both near and from afar. Oh, the eyes are a big thing. Like a barometer. Everything can be seen - who has a great dryness in his soul, who for no reason can poke his boot in the ribs, and who is afraid of everyone. Here is the last lackey, and it is pleasant to poke at the ankle. Afraid - get it. If you are afraid, then you are standing ... r-r-r ... gau-gau ...

Michael Bulgakov

dog's heart

Woo-oo-oo-oo-oo-hoo-hoo-hoo! Oh look at me, I'm dying! A blizzard in the gateway roars my departure, and I howl with it. I'm lost, I'm lost! A scoundrel in a dirty cap, a cook in the dining room for normal meals for employees of the Central Council of the National Economy, splashed boiling water and scalded my left side. What a reptile, and also a proletarian! Oh my God, how it hurts! Boiling water ate to the bone. Now I'm howling, howling, howling, but can you help with howling?

What did I do to him? How? Will I really devour the Council of the National Economy if I rummage through the rubbish heap? Greedy creature. Do you ever look at his face: after all, he is wider across himself! A thief with a copper muzzle. Ah, people, people! At noon, the cap treated me with boiling water, and now it's dark, about four o'clock at about noon, judging by the smell of onions from the Prechistenskaya fire brigade. Firefighters eat porridge for dinner, as you know. But this is the last thing, like mushrooms. Familiar dogs from Prechistenka, however, told that at Neglinny in the restaurant "Bar" they were eating the usual dish - mushrooms sauce pican for three rubles seventy-five kopecks a portion. This is an amateur business - it's like licking a galosh ... Oo-o-o-o ...

The side hurts unbearably, and the distance of my career is clearly visible to me: tomorrow ulcers will appear, and, one wonders, how will I treat them? In the summer you can hit the road to Sokolniki, there is a special very good grass, and, besides, you will get drunk on sausage heads for free, citizens will scribble greasy paper, you will get drunk. And if it weren’t for some grimza that sings in a circle in the moonlight - “dear Aida”, so that the heart falls, it would be great. Now where are you going? Didn't they hit you with a boot? Billy. Did you get a brick in the ribs? It's enough to eat. I have experienced everything, I reconcile myself with my fate, and if I cry now, it is only from physical pain and from hunger, because my spirit has not yet died away ... The spirit of a dog is tenacious.

But my body is broken, beaten, people abused it enough. After all, the main thing is that: as he hit it with boiling water, it ate under the wool, and therefore there is no protection for the left side. I can very easily get pneumonia, and if I get it, I, citizens, will die of hunger. With pneumonia, one is supposed to lie on the front door under the stairs, and who, instead of me, a lying single dog, will run through the weed boxes in search of food? A lung will catch, I will crawl on my stomach, I will weaken, and any specialist will knock me to death with a stick. And the janitors with badges will grab me by the legs and throw me onto a cart...

Janitors are the most vile scum of all the proletarians. Human cleansing is the lowest category. The cook comes across different. For example, the late Vlas from Prechistenka. How many lives he saved! Because the most important thing during an illness is to intercept the cous. And so, it used to be, say the old dogs, Vlas waved a bone, and on it was an eighth of meat. God rest him for being a real person, the lordly cook of Counts Tolstoy, and not from the Council of Normal Nutrition. What they get up there in a normal diet, the dog's mind is incomprehensible! After all, they, the bastards, cook cabbage soup from stinking corned beef, and those poor fellows don’t know anything! Run, eat, lap!

Some typist gets four and a half chervonets in the ninth category, well, really, her lover will give her phildepers stockings. Why, how much bullying she must endure for this phildepers! A typist will come running, because for four and a half chervonets you won’t go to the Bar! She does not have enough for the cinema, and the cinema for women is the only consolation in life. Trembling, grimacing, but bursting. Just think - forty kopecks from two dishes, and they, both of these dishes, are not worth five alt, because the head of the household stole the remaining twenty-five kopecks. Does she really need such a table? The top of her right lung is not in order, and she has a woman's disease, she was deducted from her in the service, fed with rotten meat in the canteen, there she is, there she is !! Runs into the gateway in lover's stockings. The legs are cold, it blows in the stomach, because the hair on her is like mine, and she wears cold pants, so, lacy appearance. Rip for a lover. Put on some flannel, try it. He will yell:

- How ugly you are! I'm tired of my Matryona, I've been tormented with flannel pants, now my time has come. I am now the chairman, and no matter how much I steal - everything, everything for the female body, for cancer necks, for Abrau-Durso! Because I was hungry enough in my youth, it will be with me, and the afterlife does not exist.

I pity her, I'm sorry. But I feel even more sorry for myself. Not out of selfishness I say, oh no, but because we really are in unequal conditions. At least she's warm at home, well, but me, and me! Where will I go? Beaten, scalded, spat on, where will I go? U-u-u-u!..

- Cut, cut, cut! Sharik, oh Sharik! What are you whining about, poor thing? BUT? Who hurt you?.. Uh...

Witch - a dry blizzard rattled the gates and drove the young lady on the ear with a broomstick. She fluffed her skirt up to her knees, exposed cream-colored stockings and a narrow strip of badly laundered lace underwear, strangled the words and swept the dog away.

“Oh my god... what a weather... wow... and my stomach hurts. It's corned beef, it's corned beef! And when will it all end?

Bending her head, the young lady rushed to the attack, broke through the gate, and in the street she began to turn, tear, scatter, then screwed with a snow propeller, and she disappeared.

And the dog remained in the gateway and, suffering from a mutilated side, pressed himself against the cold massive wall, suffocated and firmly decided that he would not go anywhere else from here, and would die here, in the gateway. Despair overwhelmed him. His heart was so bitter and painful, so lonely and frightening, that small dog tears, like pimples, crawled out of his eyes and immediately dried up. The damaged side stuck out in frozen lumps, and between them ominous red stains from the var looked. How senseless, stupid, cruel cooks! "Ball" she called him! What the hell is Sharik like? Sharik means round, well-fed, stupid, eats oatmeal, the son of noble parents, and he is shaggy, lanky and torn, a fried hat, a homeless dog. However, thank you for your kind words.

The door across the street to the brightly lit store slammed and a citizen emerged. It is a citizen, and not a comrade, and even more likely, a master. Closer - clearer - sir. Do you think I judge by the coat? Nonsense. Coats are now worn by many of the proletarians. True, the collars are not the same, there is nothing to say about this, but still one can confuse them from a distance. But in the eyes - here you can’t confuse it either near or from afar! Oh, the eyes are a big thing! Like a barometer. Everything is visible - who has a great dryness in his soul, who for no reason can poke the toe of his boot into the ribs, and who himself is afraid of everyone. Here is the last lackey, and it is pleasant to poke at the ankle. Afraid - get it! If you're afraid, then you're standing... Rrr... gau-gau.

The gentleman confidently crossed the street in a blizzard and moved into the gateway. Yes, yes, you can see it all. This rotten corned beef will not eat, and if it is served to him somewhere, he will raise such a scandal, write to the newspapers - I, Philip Philippovich, have been fed!

Here he is getting closer, closer. This one eats plentifully and does not steal. This one will not kick with his foot, but he himself is not afraid of anyone, and is not afraid because he is always full. He is a gentleman of mental labor, with a cultivated pointed beard and gray mustaches, fluffy and dashing, like those of French knights, but the smell of a blizzard flies from him bad, - a hospital and a cigar.

What the hell, one wonders, carried him to the cooperative of the central farm? Here he is nearby ... What is he looking for? Uuuu... What could he buy in a crappy shop, is Okhotny Ryad not enough for him? What?! Kol-ba-su. Sir, if you saw what this sausage is made of, you would not come close to the store. Give it to me!

The dog mustered the rest of his strength and crept out of the doorway onto the pavement in a frenzy. The blizzard clapped a gun overhead, tossed up the huge letters of the linen poster "Is rejuvenation possible?".

Naturally, perhaps. The smell rejuvenated me, lifted me from my belly, with burning waves cramped my empty stomach for two days, the smell that defeated the hospital, the heavenly smell of chopped mare with garlic and pepper. I feel, I know, in the right pocket of his fur coat he has a sausage. He is above me. Oh my lord! Look at me I'm dying. Our slavish soul, vile share!

Chapter 1

Whooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooow! Oh look at me, I'm dying. A blizzard in the gateway roars my waste, and I howl with it. I'm lost, I'm lost. The scoundrel in a dirty cap - the cook of the dining room for normal meals for employees of the Central Council of the National Economy - splashed boiling water and scalded my left side.
What a reptile, and also a proletarian. My God, my God - how it hurts! Boiling water ate to the bone. Now I'm howling, howling, but howling help.
What did I do to him? Will I really devour the council of the national economy if I rummage through the rubbish heap? Greedy creature! Do you ever look at his face: after all, he is wider across himself. A thief with a copper muzzle. Ah, people, people. At noon, the cap treated me with boiling water, and now it's dark, about four o'clock around noon, judging by the smell of onions from the Prechistensky fire brigade. Firefighters eat porridge for dinner, as you know. But this is the last thing, like mushrooms. Familiar dogs from Prechistenka, however, told that in the Neglinny restaurant "bar" they ate the usual dish - mushrooms, pikan sauce for 3r.75 k. Portion. This case for an amateur is the same as licking a galosh ... Oo-o-o-o-o ...
The side hurts unbearably, and the distance of my career is clearly visible to me: tomorrow ulcers will appear and, one wonders, how will I treat them?
In the summer you can hit the road to Sokolniki, there is special, very good grass, and besides, you will get drunk on sausage heads for free, citizens will scribble greasy paper, you will get drunk. And if it weren't for some grimza that sings in the meadow under the moon - "Darling Aida" - so that the heart falls, it would be great. Now where are you going? Didn't they hit you with a boot? Billy. Did you get a brick in the ribs? It's enough to eat. I have experienced everything, I am reconciled with my fate, and if I cry now, it is only from physical pain and cold, because my spirit has not yet died away ... The spirit of a dog is tenacious.
But my body is broken, beaten, people abused it enough. After all, the main thing is that - as he hit it with boiling water, it ate through the wool, and therefore there is no protection for the left side. I can very easily get pneumonia, and if I get it, I, citizens, will die of hunger. With pneumonia, one is supposed to lie on the front door under the stairs, and who, instead of me, a lying single dog, will run through the weed boxes in search of food? A lung will catch, I will crawl on my stomach, I will weaken, and any specialist will knock me to death with a stick. And the janitors with badges will grab me by the legs and throw me onto a cart...
Janitors of all the proletarians are the most vile scum. Human purifications are the lowest category. The cook comes across different. For example - the late Vlas from Prechistenka. How many lives did he save? Because the most important thing during an illness is to intercept the cous. And so, it used to be, say the old dogs, Vlas waved a bone, and on it was an eighth of meat. God rest him for being a real person, the lordly cook of the Counts Tolstoy, and not from the Council of Normal Nutrition. What they get up there in the Normal diet - the dog's mind is incomprehensible. After all, they, the bastards, cook cabbage soup from stinking corned beef, and those poor fellows don’t know anything. They run, they eat, they lap.
Some typist gets four and a half chervonets in the IX category, well, really, her lover will give her phildepers stockings. Why, how much bullying she has to endure for this phildepers. After all, he does not in any ordinary way, but subjects her to French love. With... these French, speaking between us. Although they burst richly, and all with red wine. Yes...
A typist will come running, because you won’t go to a bar for 4.5 chervonets. She does not have enough for cinema, and cinema is the only consolation in a woman's life. He trembles, frowns, and bursts ... Just think: 40 kopecks from two dishes, and both of these dishes are not even worth five kopecks, because the supply manager stole the remaining 25 kopecks.