Жизнь и приключения Фили. Filya’s life and adverntures - страница 4

I won’t hide the fact that I love to eat. When my Mom took me from the dog family, she immediately bought me a bowl and said that now I was a real Yorkie and should guard my property. I was very small and did not quite understand what «guard» meant. So I took the bowl, carried it in my teeth, played with it, and when I felt hungry, I went to my Mom and asked for food from the human table. She did not give me anything and said that Yorkies need different food and I should eat from my bowl only. For Mom are pancakes with jam, sausage, cakes, and for me dog food? She doesn’t love me at all and does not consider me her own Yorkie-son? Why is there such injustice? I was offended and did not go to my bowl, demanded snacks from the human table and to respect my dog rights.

One day, my Mom was not at home all day and I was very hungry. I ran up to the bowl and started barking at it to give me food. But it was silent. I hit it with my paws, growled, gnawed at it with my teeth, but it didn’t help. When my Mom came back, I cried and complained that this nasty plate didn’t listen to me. And then she explained to me where food comes from. It turns out that it doesn’t appear on its own. First, you have to earn money, buy it in the store, bring it home and cook it. I, a purebred dog, should work?? What news! When we went for a walk, I asked my street paw-friends where they get their food. They answered that they guard the yards and cars from thieves, and they get fed up with it. We returned home and my Mom said that I don’t need to work on the street, but I have to be obedient and not be capricious, keep the house in order and train the robot vacuum cleaner to behave well and thoroughly clean the apartment. For this, she will put food in my bowl. I also need to be generous and share the meat bones with my friends. We will collect them in a bag and give them during a walk. The bowl and leash, clothes, toys – this is my property, which will be passed on to my younger Yorkie -brother when I grow up. This is how I became a real dog.

Бычок – мой лучший друг, который всегда со мной. Он живет в моей комнате, спит рядом со мной и ест закуски с человеческого стола, которые я ему приношу. Мы играем каждый день и вместе путешествуем. Однажды он потерялся. Я обыскал весь дом, обнюхал вещи и укромные места, побежал в ванную (иногда он купается в стиральной машине), но его нигде не было. Я очень расстроился и решил, что мне нужно вызвать полицию.