“I know,” the girl answered melancholy and looked at the dog. “Wrong way, furry.

The beast turned and limped after the girl.

- Ilosha, - the landlady, - he will pollute the whole apartment! Oh mommies!

The old woman looked at the bloody footprint on the white tiles and threw up her hands:

- He's hurt! I'll bring you a first aid kit! You don't have your own!

Ilona looked back at the woman who disappeared behind the door with a gasp. Before the girl had time to unlock the apartment, the old woman appeared to her with bandages and a first aid kit. The dog buried his nose in her thigh.

"What a shame," the old woman squeaked. I have never seen such big dogs. He will devour me and not choke.

“Something tells me he is not very interested in human flesh,” Ilona opened the door.

The landlady placed the first-aid kit on the chest of drawers and placed three rolls of bandages beside her. She looked sympathetically at the dog and sighed.

I'm against animals...

“I’ll wash him, feed him and find the owners,” Ilona threw her backpack on the floor. Or call the shelter. He cannot be captured.

“You can’t,” the woman agreed and looked at the girl. “If he ruins the furniture and the carpet, I’ll deduct it along with the rent.”

- Good.

“And if he disturbs other tenants by howling and barking, then…” Margo chewed her thin, wrinkled lips, peering into the blue eyes of the dog. "You won't howl, will you?" I just missed complaints from neighbors.

“He won’t stay here for long,” Ilona smiled weakly. — Me and one in apartment cramped.

“And I offered you to rent a bigger apartment,” the old woman clicked and crossed her arms over her chest. - And you?

“But I refused,” Ilona yawned. - What did you want?

— Oh, right! Have you seen who smokes in the hallway? Margot narrowed her eyes. - The whole house stinks.

“It wasn't me,” Ilona pushed the old woman to the door. “And I don’t know who smokes on the stairs.”

"I'm sick of these smokers," whispered Margo, fishing a pack of cigarettes out of her dress pocket. “There is absolutely no conscience.

Ilona nodded and locked the door. This morning she caught an old woman with a cigarette on the stairs. Margot played a strange game. The woman liked to secretly smoke a few cigarettes, and then complain and torture the neighbors, which of them, the bastards, smokes in the stairwell and leaves cigarette butts on the windowsill - an excellent reason to frighten the tenants and start a conversation with them.

“Go ahead,” Ilona opened the door to the bathroom and nodded to the dog. "Let's wash you, dirty one."

The girl with difficulty dragged the stubborn beast into the bath. He was heavy, clumsy and ripped all the clothes of Ilona, ​​who realized too late that she should have changed. She looked at the white blouse with disappointment and clicked angrily.

"But what did I expect?"

The girl wet the hair of the puffing dog, and the bottom of the bathtub was covered with disgusting brown dirty smudges. Ilona looked at the shampoo bottles and thought for a second:

- Strawberry or coconut? She looked at the wet unfortunate beast and grinned. — Strawberries.

The dog snorted and shook the water from his fur in displeasure. Kafel and Ilona were covered with dirty drops.

- Scoundrel! the girl growled and squeezed pink shampoo with a vigorous strawberry flavor into her palm. She carefully lathered the hair on the back of her neck and back, and moved on to her front paws. As she lowered herself to the wound, the dog purred in warning. Ilona grimaced.

She looked under her hind leg with curiosity and, with a little disappointment, said:

“After all, a male,” she diligently lathered her shaggy ass and set about her tail. - Bitches are more accommodating.

The dog growled angrily and lashed Ilona in the face with his tail as she reached for a bottle of shampoo. She snorted indignantly from surprise, spitting from the foam, and the ugly beast proudly tossed her head.

“That's what I was talking about.” She wiped her face and directed a jet of water at the dog's back.

Ilona had to use the whole bottle of shampoo and lather the hair of a fluffy asshole three times to wash all the dirt out of it. She pulled out a whole bunch of twigs, blades of grass, leaves and even an acorn, but, fortunately, she did not find fleas or ticks. She looked into the dog's ears to make sure there were no unpleasant surprises hidden in them. She confidently plucked a few towels off the hook before the dog had a chance to shake himself off. The girl covered him with terry cloth rags and, with a bit of gloating, began to rub his fur. She tossed the wet towels aside and, under the frightened look of the dog, grabbed a hair dryer from the cabinet.

“It's not that scary,” she laughed, plugging the plug into the outlet with a click. You are a brave dog.

The dog grunted, tucked his tail and ears in, and whined nervously as a blast of hot air touched his neck with a loud noise. Ilona was sweating and terribly tired while she was drying the male's thick fur, but she did not back down from the fluffy monster and cooed affectionately, puffing up his furry chest.

She put down the hair dryer, gruntingly helped the wounded handsome man, who smelled of strawberry gum, get out of the bath onto a soft rug and rushed for the first-aid kit and bandages. Ilona tried to persuade the caudate guest to show her the wound for about five minutes, but he stubbornly turned away, growled and whined plaintively, tucking his paw.