Read Heart of a Dog online. Read the book Heart of a Dog online. Mikhail BulgakovHeart of a Dog
Choose a font size that is easy to read:
Year the story was written: 1925
First publication: in the magazines “Grani” (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 republished many times since then.
As prototypes literary character Professor F.F. Preobrazhensky names several real doctors. This is Bulgakov’s uncle, gynecologist Nikolai Pokrovsky, surgeon Sergei Voronov. In addition, a number of famous contemporaries of the author are named as prototypes - the scientist Bekhterev, the physiologist Pavlov and the founder of the Soviet state Lenin.
We consider Mikhail Bulgakov's story The Heart of a Dog to be the second most important work after The Master and Margarita...
Professor of Medicine, outstanding surgeon, Philip Philipovich Preobrazhensky, managed to achieve excellent results in human rejuvenation in 1924 in Moscow. 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. A stray dog named “Sharik”, whom the professor picked up on the street, was chosen as a test subject. The dog found himself in a spacious apartment, he was well fed and looked after. Sharik formed the idea that he was special... The donor organs that Sharik received during the operation belonged to Klim Chugunkin, a thief, rowdy and alcoholic, who died in a fight.
The experiment was a success; the results exceeded our wildest expectations. The dog's limbs stretched out, the dog lost its hair, the ability to pronounce sounds first, then words, and later full-fledged speech appeared... The dog began to resemble a person in appearance... Moscow was filled with rumors about miraculous transformations happening in the laboratory of Professor Preobrazhensky. But very soon the professor had to regret what he had done. Sharik inherited all the most unpleasant habits from Klim Chugunkin; he received not only physical, but also psychological humanization. Polygraph Polygraphovich Sharikov (he gave himself this name) discovered in himself a passion for terrible foul language, drunkenness, fornication, theft, vanity, tavern revelry and discussions about the proletarian idea. Sharikov gets a job as head of the department for cleaning the city from stray animals. He was helped in this by the chairman of the house committee, Shvonder, who hoped in this way, with the help of Sharikov, that Professor Preobrazhensky would survive from the large apartment.
Sharikov really likes the work, a company car comes to pick him up every day, the professor’s servants treat him with servility, and he does not feel obligated to Professor Preobrazhensky and Doctor Bormental, who are still trying to make a man out of Sharikov, instilling in him the basics of cultural life. He, like an angry dog, takes pleasure in killing stray cats, but according to Professor Preobrazhensky, “cats are temporary.” Sharikov brought a young girl to the professor’s apartment, whom he hired to work, from whom he hid his biography. The girl learns from the professor the truth about Sharikov’s origins and refuses the advances of Poligraf Poligrafovich - and then he threatens to fire her. Doctor Bormenthal stands up for the girl...
After Sharikov’s numerous misadventures, Doctor Bormental, together with Professor Preobrazhensky, conduct new operation, returning Sharikov to his original appearance. The dog does not remember anything of what he did in human form; he remains to live in the apartment of Philip Philipovich Preobrazhensky.
Happy reading!
Bulgakov wrote the story “Heart of a Dog” in 1925. At this time, 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 transform an animal into a human. However, an experiment to transplant 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 “The Heart of a Dog” chapter by chapter online on our website.
Main characters
Ball- a stray dog. To some extent a philosopher, not stupid in everyday life, observant and even learned to read signs.
Polygraph Poligrafovich Sharikov– A ball after an operation to implant a human pituitary gland into the brain, taken from the drunkard and rowdy Klim Chugunkin, who died in a tavern fight.
Professor Philip Preobrazhensky- a medical genius, an elderly intellectual of the old school, extremely dissatisfied with the advent of a new era and hating its hero - the proletarian for his lack of education and unfounded 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 Preobrazhensky’s place of residence, bearer and disseminator of the communist ideas so disliked 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 housework duties with nursing duties.
Daria Petrovna- Preobrazhensky's cook, a middle-aged woman.
Young lady typist- Sharikov’s subordinate and failed wife.
Chapter first
The stray dog Sharik freezes to death 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 doormen. A certain gentleman in a fur coat appears in the dog’s field of vision and feeds him cheap sausage. Sharik faithfully follows him, along the way wondering who his benefactor is, since even the doorman in a rich house, the terror of stray dogs, talks to him obsequiously.
From a conversation with the doorman, the gentleman in a fur coat learns that “tenants have been moved into the third apartment,” and he perceives the news with horror, although his personal living space will not be affected by the upcoming “densification.”
Chapter two
Brought to a rich, warm apartment, Sharik, who decided to make a scandal out of fear, is euthanized with chloroform and treated. After this, the dog, no longer bothered by his side, watches with curiosity as he sees patients. There is an elderly womanizer and an elderly rich lady in love with a handsome young gambler. And everyone wants one thing - rejuvenation. Preobrazhensky is ready to help them - for good money.
In the evening, the professor is visited by members of the house committee, led by Shvonder - they want Preobrazhensky to give away two of his seven rooms in order to “compact”. The professor calls one of his influential patients with a complaint about the arbitrariness and invites him, if so, to undergo surgery with Shvonder, and he himself will leave for Sochi. As they leave, members of the house committee accuse Preobrazhensky of hating the proletariat.
Chapter Three
Over lunch, Preobrazhensky rants about food culture and the proletariat, recommending not reading Soviet newspapers before lunch 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 a meeting of fellow tenants behind the wall singing revolutionary songs, the professor comes to the conclusion: “If, instead of operating every evening, I start singing in chorus in my apartment, I will be in ruins. If, entering the restroom, I start, excuse the expression, urinating past the toilet and Zina and Daria Petrovna do the same, devastation will begin in the restroom. Consequently, the devastation is not in the closets, but in the heads. This means that when these baritones shout “beat the destruction!” - I am laughing. I swear to you, I find it funny! This means that each of them must hit himself in the back of the head! .
There is also talk about Sharik’s future, and the intrigue has not yet been revealed, but the pathologists familiar to Bormental promised to immediately inform him about the appearance of a “suitable corpse”, and for now the dog will be observed.
They buy Sharik a status collar, he eats deliciously, and his side is finally healing. The dog is playing pranks, but when the indignant Zina offers to tear him out, the professor strictly forbids this: “You can’t tear anyone up, you can influence a person and an animal only by suggestion.”
Only Sharik took root in the apartment - suddenly after phone call Running around begins, the professor demands lunch earlier. Sharik, deprived of food, is locked in the bathroom, after which he is dragged into the examination room and given anesthesia.
Chapter Four
Preobrazhensky and Bormental operate on Sharik. He is implanted with testes and a pituitary gland taken from a fresh human corpse. This should, according to doctors, open new horizons in their research into the mechanism of rejuvenation.
The professor, not without sadness, assumes that the dog will definitely not survive after such an operation, just like those animals that came before him.
Chapter Five
Dr. Bormental's diary is a history of Sharik's illness, which describes the changes occurring in the dog that was operated on and still survived. His hair falls out, the shape of his skull changes, his barking becomes like a human voice, and his bones grow quickly. He utters strange words - it turns out that street dog I learned to read signs, but I read some from the end. The young doctor makes an enthusiastic conclusion - changing the pituitary gland does not give rejuvenation, but complete humanization - and emotionally calls his teacher a genius. However, the professor himself gloomily sits over the medical history of the man whose pituitary gland was transplanted to Sharik.
Chapter Six
Doctors are trying to nurture their creation, instill the necessary skills, and educate. Sharik's taste in clothes, his speech and habits unnerve the intelligent Preobrazhensky. There are posters hanging around the apartment prohibiting swearing, spitting, throwing cigarette butts, and gnawing seeds. Sharik himself has a passive-aggressive attitude towards education: “They grabbed the animal, slashed its head with a knife, and now they abhor it.” 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 “Poligraf Poligrafovich” for himself, and takes the “hereditary” surname - Sharikov.
The professor expresses a desire to buy any room in the house and evict Poligraf 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: “Nothing can 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 going to give Sharikov something to read, at least Robinson, but he is already reading the correspondence between Engels and Kautsky, given to him by Shvonder. True, he manages to understand little - except perhaps “take everything and divide it.” Hearing this, the professor invites him to “share” the lost profit from the fact that on the day of the flood the appointment of patients was disrupted - to pay 130 rubles “for the faucet and for the cat,” and orders Zina to burn the book.
Having sent Sharikov, accompanied by Bormental, to the circus, Preobrazhensky looks for a long time at the preserved pituitary gland of the dog Sharik and says: “By God, I think I’ll make up my mind.”
Chapter Eight
A new scandal - Sharikov, waving documents, claims living space in the professor’s apartment. He promises to shoot Shvonder and, in exchange for eviction, threatens Polygraph with deprivation of food. Sharikov quiets down, but not for long - he stole two ducats in the professor’s office, and tried to blame the theft on Zina, got drunk and brought drinking buddies into the house, after whose expulsion Preobrazhensky lost his malachite ashtray, beaver hat and favorite cane.
Over cognac, Bormental confesses his love and respect to Preobrazhensky and offers to personally feed Sharikov arsenic. The professor objects - he, a world-famous scientist, will be able to avoid responsibility for murder, but the young doctor is unlikely. He sadly admits his scientific mistake: “I sat for five years, picking out appendages from brains... And now, the question arises - why? So that one day sweetest dog turn into such scum that your hair stands on end. […] Two criminal records, alcoholism, “divide everything,” a hat and two ducats are missing, a boor and a pig... In a word, the pituitary gland is a closed chamber that defines a given human person. Given!” Meanwhile, the pituitary gland for Sharikov was taken from a certain Klim Chugunkin, a repeat offender, alcoholic and rowdy, who played the balalaika in taverns and was stabbed to death in a drunken brawl. Doctors gloomily imagine what kind of nightmare, given such “heredity,” Sharikov could get out of under the influence of Shvonder.
At night, Daria Petrovna kicks the drunken Polygraph out of the kitchen, Bormenthal promises to make a scandal with him in the morning, but Sharikov disappears, and upon returning, he reports that he has got a job - the head of the department for clearing Moscow of stray animals.
A young lady typist appears in the apartment, whom Sharikov introduces as his bride. They open her eyes to Polygraph’s lies - he is not the commander of the Red Army at all and was not wounded at all in battles with the whites, as he claimed in a conversation with the girl. Sharikov, exposed, threatens the typist with layoffs; Bormental takes the girl under protection and promises to shoot Sharikov.
Chapter Nine
His former patient, an influential man in military uniform, comes to the professor. From his story, Preobrazhensky learns that Sharikov wrote a denunciation against him and Bormental - they allegedly made death threats against Poligraf and Shvonder, made counter-revolutionary speeches, illegally stored weapons, etc. After this, Sharikov is categorically asked to get out of the apartment, but he first becomes stubborn, then becomes impudent, and in the end even pulls out a pistol. The doctors subdue him, disarm him and sedate him with chloroform, after which a ban on anyone entering or leaving the apartment sounds and some activity begins in the examination 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 murdering Sharikov.
However, Preobrazhensky is calm - he says that his laboratory creature suddenly and inexplicably degraded from a human back into a dog, and shows the police and the investigator a strange creature in which the features of Poligraf Poligrafovich are still recognizable.
The dog Sharik, who had his canine pituitary gland returned through a second operation, remains to live and blissfully live in the professor’s apartment, never understanding why he was “slashed all over his head.”
Conclusion
In the story “The Heart of a Dog,” Bulgakov, in addition to the philosophical motive of punishment for interfering in the affairs of nature, outlined themes characteristic of it, branding ignorance, cruelty, abuse of power and stupidity. The carriers of these shortcomings for him are the new “masters of life” who want to change the world, but do not have the wisdom and humanism necessary for this. The main idea of the work is “the devastation is not in the closets, but in the heads.”
Brief retelling“The 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 its entirety. We also advise you to familiarize yourself with the two-part film of the same name by Vladimir Bortko from 1988, which is quite close to the literary original.
Test on the story
You will remember the summary of the story you read better if you answer the questions in this test.
Retelling rating
average rating: 4.5. Total ratings received: 9757.
Michael Bulgakov
DOG'S HEART
Woo-hoo-goo-goo-goo! Oh look at me, I'm dying. The blizzard in the gateway howls at me, and I howl with it. I'm lost, I'm lost. A scoundrel in a dirty cap - the cook of the canteen of Normal nutrition 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. Lord, my God - how painful it is! It was eaten to the bones by boiling water. Now I’m howling, howling, but howling can I help?
How did I bother him? Will I really eat the Council of the National Economy if I rummage through the trash? Greedy creature! Just look at his face someday: he’s wider across himself. Thief with a copper face. Ah, people, people. At noon the cap treated me to boiling water, and now it’s dark, about four o’clock in the afternoon, judging by the smell of onions from the Prechistensky fire brigade. Firemen eat porridge for dinner, as you know. But this is the last thing, like mushrooms. Familiar dogs from Prechistenka, however, told me that on Neglinny in the Bar restaurant they eat the usual dish - mushrooms, pican sauce for three rubles seventy-five kopecks per serving. This is not an acquired taste - it’s like licking a galosh... Oooh-ooh-ooh...
My side hurts unbearably, and the distance of my career is visible to me quite clearly: tomorrow ulcers will appear and, one wonders, how will I treat them? In the summer you can go to Sokolniki, there is a special, very good weed there, and besides, you will get drunk on free sausage heads, the citizens will scribble on greasy paper, you will get drunk. And if it weren’t for some grimza that sings in the circle under the moon - “dear Aida” - so that your heart falls, it would be great. Now where will you go? Did they hit you on the behind with a boot? They beat me. Did you get hit in the ribs with a brick? There is enough food. I have experienced everything, I am at peace 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 dog’s spirit is tenacious.
But my body is broken, beaten, people have abused it enough. After all, the main thing is that when he hit it with boiling water, it was eaten under the fur, 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 you are supposed to lie on the front door under the stairs, but who can take the place of me lying single dog, will run through trash cans in search of food? It will grab my lung, I will crawl on my stomach, I will become weak, and any specialist will beat me to death with a stick. And the wipers with plaques will grab me by the legs and throw me onto the cart...
Janitors are the most vile scum of all proletarians. Human cleaning is the lowest category. The cook is different. For example, the late Vlas from Prechistenka. How many lives did he save? Because the most important thing during illness is to intercept the bite. And so, it happened, the old dogs say, Vlas would wave a bone, and on it there would be an eighth of meat on it. God bless him for being a real person, the lordly cook of Count Tolstoy, and not from the Council for Normal Nutrition. What they do there in a normal diet is incomprehensible to a 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, eat, lap.
Some typist receives four and a half chervonets for the ninth grade, well, however, her lover will give her fildepers stockings. Why, how much abuse does she have to endure for this phildepers? After all, he does not expose her in any ordinary way, but exposes her to French love. These French are bastards, just between you and me. Although they eat it richly, and all with red wine. Yes... The typist will come running, because you can’t go to the “Bar” for four and a half. She doesn’t even have enough for cinema, and cinema is the only consolation in life for women. He trembles, winces, and eats... Just think: forty kopecks from two dishes, and both of these dishes are not worth five altyn, 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 she has a female disease on French soil, she was deducted from service, she was fed rotten meat in the dining room, here she is, there she is... Runs into the gateway in lover's stockings. Her feet are cold, there is a draft in her stomach, because the fur on her is like mine, and she wears cold pants, just a lace appearance. Rubbish for a lover. Put her on flannel, try it, he’ll shout: how graceful you are! I'm tired of my Matryona, I'm tired of flannel pants, now my time has come. I am now the chairman, and no matter how much I steal, it’s all female body, on cancer necks, on Abrau-Durso. Because I was hungry enough when I was young, it will be enough for me, but there is no afterlife.
I feel sorry for her, I feel sorry for her! But I feel even more sorry for myself. I’m not saying this out of selfishness, oh no, but because we really are not on an equal footing. At least she’s warm at home, but for me, but for me... Where am I going to go? Woo-oo-oo-oo!..
Whoop, whoop, whoop! Sharik, and Sharik... Why are you whining, poor thing? Who hurt you? Uh...
The witch, a dry blizzard, rattled the gates and hit the young lady on the ear with a broom. She fluffed up her skirt to her knees, exposed her cream stockings and a narrow strip of poorly washed lace underwear, strangled her words and covered up the dog.
My God... What is the weather... Wow... And my stomach hurts. This is corned beef, this is corned beef! And when will this all end?
Bowing her head, the young lady rushed into the attack, broke through the gate, and on the street she began to twist, twist, and scatter, then she was screwed in with a snow screw, and she disappeared.
And the dog remained in the gateway and, suffering from a disfigured side, pressed himself against the cold wall, suffocated and firmly decided that he would not go anywhere else from here, and then he would die in the gateway. Despair overwhelmed him. His soul was so painful and bitter, so lonely and scary, that small dog tears, like pimples, crawled out of his eyes and immediately dried up. The damaged side stuck out in matted, frozen lumps, and between them were red, ominous spots of scald. How senseless, stupid, and cruel the cooks are. “Sharik” - she called him... What the hell is “Sharik”? Sharik means round, well-fed, stupid, eats oatmeal, the son of noble parents, but he is shaggy, lanky and ragged, a lean little guy, a homeless dog. However, thank you for your kind words.
The door across the street to a 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 my coat? Nonsense. Nowadays, many proletarians wear coats. True, the collars are not the same, there’s nothing to say about that, but from a distance they can still be confused. But by the eyes, you can’t confuse them both up close and from afar. Oh, eyes are a significant thing. Like a barometer. You can see everything - who has a great dryness in their soul, who can poke the toe of a boot in the ribs for no reason, and who is afraid of everyone. It’s the last lackey who feels good when he’s tugging on the ankle. If you're afraid, get it. If you’re afraid, that means you’re standing... rrrr... wow-wow...
Michael Bulgakov
dog's heart
Oooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh! Oh, look at me, I'm dying! The blizzard in the gateway howls at me, and I howl with it. I'm lost, I'm lost! A scoundrel in a dirty cap, a cook in the canteen 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, how painful it is! It was eaten to the bones by boiling water. Now I’m howling, howling, howling, but can you howl help?
How did I bother him? How? Will I really eat the Council of the National Economy if I rummage through the trash? Greedy creature. Just take a look at his face: he’s wider across himself! Thief with a copper face. Ah, people, people! At noon the cap treated me to boiling water, and now it’s dark, about four o’clock in the afternoon, judging by the smell of onions from the Prechistensky fire brigade. Firemen eat porridge for dinner, as you know. But this is the last thing, like mushrooms. Familiar dogs from Prechistenka, however, told me that on Neglinny in the Bar restaurant they eat the usual dish - mushrooms pican sauce for three rubles seventy-five kopecks per serving. This is not an acquired taste - it’s like licking a galosh... Oooh...
My side hurts unbearably, and the distance of my career is visible to me quite clearly: tomorrow ulcers will appear, and, one wonders, how will I treat them? In the summer you can go to Sokolniki, there is a special very good grass there, and, besides, you will get drunk on free sausage heads, the citizens will throw greasy paper on them, you will get drunk. And if it weren’t for some grimza that sings on the circle in the moonlight - “dear Aida” - so that the heart sinks, it would be great. Now where will you go? Did they hit you with a boot? They beat me. Did you get hit in the ribs with a brick? There is enough food. I have experienced everything, I am at peace with my fate, and if I cry now, it is only from physical pain and hunger, because my spirit has not yet died out... The tenacious spirit of a dog.
But my body is broken, beaten, people have abused it enough. After all, the main thing is that when he hit it with boiling water, it was eaten under the fur, 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, but who, instead of me, a lying single dog, will run through the trash bins in search of food? It will grab my lung, I will crawl on my stomach, I will become weak, and any specialist will beat me to death with a stick. And the wipers with plaques will grab me by the legs and throw me onto the cart...
Janitors are the most vile scum of all proletarians. Human cleaning is the lowest category. The cook is different. For example, the late Vlas from Prechistenka. How many lives he saved! Because the most important thing during illness is to intercept the bite. And so, it happened, the old dogs say, Vlas would wave a bone, and on it there would be an eighth of meat on it. God bless him for being a real person, the lordly cook of Count Tolstoy, and not from the Council for Normal Nutrition. What they do there in a normal diet is incomprehensible to the mind of a dog! After all, they, the bastards, cook cabbage soup from stinking corned beef, and those poor fellows don’t know anything! They run, eat, lap!
Some typist receives four and a half chervonets for the ninth grade, well, however, her lover will give her fildepers stockings. Why, how much abuse does she have to endure for this phildepers! The typist will come running, because you can’t go to the “Bar” for four and a half chervonets! She doesn’t even have enough for cinema, and cinema is the only consolation in life for women. It trembles, winces, and bursts. Just think - forty kopecks from two dishes, and both of these dishes are not worth five kopecks, because the manager of the farm 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 the service, she was fed rotten meat in the canteen, there she is, there she is!! Runs into the gateway in lover's stockings. Her feet are cold, there is a draft in her stomach, because the fur on her is like mine, and she wears cold pants, like a lace appearance. Rubbish for a lover. Put her on some flannel and try it. He will shout:
- How ungraceful you are! I'm tired of my Matryona, I'm tired of flannel pants, now my time has come. I am now the chairman, and no matter how much I steal - everything, everything on the female body, on cancerous cervixes, on Abrau-Durso! Because I was hungry enough when I was young, that’s enough for me, and there is no afterlife.
I feel sorry for her, I feel sorry for her. But I feel even more sorry for myself. I’m not saying this out of selfishness, oh no, but because we really are in unequal conditions. At least the house is warm for her, but for me, for me! Where will I go? Beaten, scalded, spat upon, where will I go? Ooooh!..
- Kut, kut, kut! Sharik, oh Sharik! Why are you whining, poor thing? A? Who offended you?.. Uh...
The witch - a dry snowstorm rattled the gates and hit the young lady on the ear with a broom. She fluffed up her skirt to her knees, exposed her cream stockings and a narrow strip of poorly washed lace underwear, strangled her words and covered up the dog.
- My God... what a weather... wow... and my stomach hurts. This is corned beef, this is corned beef! And when will this all end?
Bowing her head, the young lady rushed into the attack, broke through the gate, and on the street she began to twist, tear, throw, then she was screwed with a snow screw, and she disappeared.
But the dog remained in the gateway and, suffering from a disfigured 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 soul was so bitter and painful, so lonely and scary, that small dog tears, like pimples, crawled out of his eyes and immediately dried up. The damaged side stuck out in matted, frozen lumps, and between them were red, ominous spots of varnish. How senseless, stupid, and cruel the cooks are! “Sharik” she called him! What the hell is Sharik? Sharik means round, well-fed, stupid, eats oatmeal, the son of noble parents, but he is shaggy, lanky and ragged, a lean little gangster, a homeless dog. However, thanks to her for her kind words.
The door across the street to a brightly lit store slammed and a citizen emerged. It is a citizen, not a comrade, and even more accurately, a master. Closer - clearer - sir. Do you think I judge by my coat? Nonsense. Nowadays, many proletarians wear coats. True, the collars are not the same, there’s nothing to say about that, but from a distance they can still be confused. But by the eyes - you can’t confuse them either up close or from a distance! Oh, eyes are a significant thing! Like a barometer. You can see everything - who has a great dryness in their soul, who can poke the toe of a boot into the ribs for no reason, and who is afraid of everyone. It’s the last lackey who feels good when he’s tugging on the ankle. If you're afraid, get it! If you're afraid, that means you're standing... Rrrrr... wow-wow.
The gentleman confidently crossed the street in the blizzard and moved into the gateway. Yes, yes, this one can see everything. This rotten corned beef will not eat, and if it is served to him somewhere, he will raise such a scandal, write in the newspapers - I, Philip Philipovich, have been fed!
Here he is getting closer and closer. This one eats a lot and doesn't steal. This one will not kick, but he himself is not afraid of anyone, and he is not afraid because he is always well-fed. He is a gentleman of mental labor, with a cultured pointed beard and a mustache, gray, fluffy and dashing, like that of the French knights, but the smell from him flies through the snowstorm - hospital and cigar.
What the hell, one might ask, brought him to the Tsentrokhoz cooperative? Here he is nearby... What is he looking for? Oooh... What could he buy in a crappy store, isn't Okhotny Ryad enough for him? What's happened?! Kol-ba-su. Sir, if you had seen what this sausage is made from, you would not have come near the store. Give it to me!
The dog gathered the rest of his strength and crawled madly out of the gateway onto the sidewalk. The blizzard flapped the gun overhead, throwing up the huge letters of the linen poster “Is rejuvenation possible?”
Naturally, perhaps. The smell rejuvenated me, lifted me from my belly, and with burning waves it filled my empty stomach for two days, a smell that conquered the hospital, the heavenly smell of chopped mare with garlic and pepper. I feel, I know, he has sausage in the right pocket of his fur coat. He's above me. Oh my lord! Look at me. I'm dying. Our soul is a slave, a vile lot!
Chapter 1
Woo-hoo-hoo-goo-goo-goo! Oh look at me, I'm dying. The blizzard in the gateway howls at me, and I howl with it. I'm lost, I'm lost. A scoundrel in a dirty cap - a cook in the canteen 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. Lord, my God - how painful it is! It was eaten to the bones by boiling water. Now I’m howling, howling, but howling can I help?
How did I bother him? Will I really eat the council of the national economy if I rummage through the trash? Greedy creature! Just look at his face someday: he’s wider across himself. Thief with a copper face. Ah, people, people. At noon the cap treated me to boiling water, and now it’s dark, about four o’clock in the afternoon, judging by the smell of onions from the Prechistensky fire brigade. Firemen eat porridge for dinner, as you know. But this is the last thing, like mushrooms. Familiar dogs from Prechistenka, however, told me that in the Neglinny restaurant "bar" they eat the standard dish - mushrooms, pican sauce for 3 rubles. 75 k. portion. This is an amateur job, it’s like licking a galosh... Oooh-ooh-ooh...
My side hurts unbearably, and the distance of my career is visible to me quite clearly: tomorrow ulcers will appear and, one wonders, how will I treat them?
In the summer you can go to Sokolniki, there is a special, very good grass there, and besides, you will get free sausage heads, the citizens will scribble on greasy paper, you will get drunk. And if it weren’t for some grimza that sings in the meadow under the moon - “Dear Aida” - so that your heart falls, it would be great. Now where will you go? Did they hit you with a boot? They beat me. Did you get hit in the ribs with a brick? There is enough food. I have experienced everything, I am at peace 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 have abused it enough. After all, the main thing is that when he hit it with boiling water, it was eaten under the fur, 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, but who, instead of me, a lying single dog, will run through the trash bins in search of food? It will grab my lung, I will crawl on my stomach, I will become weak, and any specialist will beat me to death with a stick. And the wipers with plaques will grab me by the legs and throw me onto the cart...
Janitors are the most vile scum of all proletarians. Human cleaning is the lowest category. The cook is different. For example, the late Vlas from Prechistenka. How many lives did he save? Because the most important thing during illness is to intercept the bite. And so, it happened, the old dogs say, Vlas would wave a bone, and on it there would be an eighth of meat on it. May he rest in heaven for being a real person, the lordly cook of Count Tolstoy, and not from the Council of Normal Nutrition. What they are doing there in Normal nutrition is incomprehensible to a 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, eat, lap.
Some typist receives four and a half chervonets for the IX category, well, however, her lover will give her fildepers stockings. Why, how much abuse does she have to endure for this phildepers? After all, he does not expose her in any ordinary way, but exposes her to French love. With... these French, just between you and me. Although they eat it richly, and all with red wine. Yes...
The typist will come running, because you can’t go to the bar for 4.5 chervonets. She doesn’t even have enough for cinema, and cinema is the only consolation in life for a woman. He trembles, winces, and eats... Just think: 40 kopecks from two dishes, and both of these dishes are not worth five kopecks, because the supply manager stole the remaining 25 kopecks.