It was a rainy weekday. Nothing interesting was happening. Empty street. Only lonely bubbles were blowing up in rain puddles.

A huge old dog was slowly passing along the street. His long dark brown hair was full of durty fur balls. His big paws were covered with mud from all the roads where they had been. The dog seemed to be an old vagabond who had passed a lot of roads and visited a lot of places. Surely you wouldn’t like him if you met him for the first time.

“Oh, these awful puddles…and the sky is crying…and I’m walking and walking and walking” – the dog was thinking. But in fact he wasn’t neither upset nor disappointed. He was all in his dreams and wishes.

“I wish one day I would find my Master. He would be kind and gentle and would give me fresh juicy sausages every morning. And then we would go for walks together. Master would sing and I would run round him”.

And the old dog stopped and laid down on the wet dirty footpath thinking he had been in the sunny field with green grass. And his Master had been with him.