A DOG NAMED DINA
There used to live a dog in our street in a quiet little township near Moscow. The dog’s name, as you might have already guessed, was Dina. She was biggish and blackish, a pooch of no particular breed, perhaps a little like a German Shepherd. She was a quiet thing, never in a hurry, always watchful. She never stayed long at any of the yards, but rather changed her location now and then, and it was fine with everybody. I remember her sleeping at night on our neighbour’s veranda, and then she would disappear for a couple of weeks.
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