Suddenly Gampr raised his snout. He saw the master.
“Ani, have you come to see your friend again?” asked the priest. Passing by Ani, he gently stroked her head and went into the house. It was hot. He was tired. He would sleep.
The girl understood, that papa Torgom had finished his work and was waiting for her outside. Keeping her eyes on the dog, she put a step back, ran out and took papa’s hand.
…
In the evening the old neighbor came again to help the priest. He was silent during working. He was silent during the dinner as well. Then he decided to speak. He was nervous and worried.
The whole night he was thinking what to say, how to say. But now the words were fleeing and the thoughts were scattering.
“Father,” he stammered. “I have been thinking a lot… I think, you must give up the dog.”
The neighbor looked at Gampr with fear. The dog was indifferent.
“You were telling that you have found him in the mountains. Let’s take him back. What do you think, Father?”
The priest sighed.
“I have neither a wife, nor a child. Without the dog I will stay alone…”
“You won’t,” the old man got excited. “The priest will never stay alone. God is always with you.”
The priest looked strayed at the dog sitting at the corner. He wanted someone other than God to be with him.
Gampr liked his muzzle self-complacently. The priest was looking at his blue, crystal eyes and as if in the mirror could see a strange man. He was reserved and silent, he could hide Gampr’s secret under the knitted woolen shirt. He was able to rescue what he did not understand. The priest had never seen such reflection of his own merits. He knew that in general whoever the man looked at, whatever he looked at and wherever he looked at, he saw himself. Previously, the priest looked at his son and could see the father. But then, the father-priest reflection diminished. It then disappeared.
The priest constantly repeated in mind, “The world is a mirror for men.” And the simplest mirror is the pain. Here, everyone’s reflection is beautiful. Even the most villainous person is weak in front of the pain. The bigger the pain-mirror, the weaker and more helpless is the man. And the pain of the weak becomes smaller; it is easy to forgive the weak and it is difficult to judge the weak. He came to his senses. He understood that his thoughts had begun to progress in a wrong, apocryphal direction. He took a breath. He looked at the dog sitting under the window guarding the silence like Sphinx. He restrained.