Devil dog Bashny.Net

Mu-Mu does not sink.
 Once again, throwing a brick into it, Gerasim, mumbling incoherently, took hold of the oars and the boat described a wide circle, looking reproachfully at peacefully lying in the center of the circle dog.
 Mu-Mu melancholically looked into the sky and sometimes unmotivated move her left hind leg. Viciously spat into the water ("Do not spit into the well ...!" - Came from heaven was sonorous voice, but deaf did not pay any attention to a clear sign), Gerasimos fumbled at the bottom of the boat and took a boat hook. I poked him in the gray hairy calf lazily flounder among the sticks and twigs.
 - S-s? - He mumbled that, presumably, would be sure to mean: "Damn dog, well, how much can you?". Mu-Mu rolled over one eye and looked at the host.
 The stock of bricks embedded into the boat, was exhausted.
 In violation of all laws of physics, with frail dog tied to each foot a hefty piece of stone, dashing rake on the surface of the lake, and I did not try to drown. Whether on-site Gerasimos someone else - even the most seedy theologian - he would certainly have thought about and brought to dazzling for themselves the truth of the Lord works in mysterious ways, and so on. But Gerasim was a simple peasant. Lost in thought, he came to a simple decision - to pierce the dog forks.
 For this we had to paddle to shore.