Together with my friend, trying to find an explanation for the story of the General, whose batman was a dog, I rush around the melting heat of Leningrad. Without any agreement with Misha, the story of the General and his dog batman passes from Misha’s hands into mine. I begin to recreate it, walking at night along the Neva, which resembles a mirror with an amalgam of moonlight. He was nicknamed the General of Fire because he came up with an effective way to destroy populated areas when Napoleon’s troops entered there. It’s also hot in Moscow. Renowned historian Nathan Eidelman tells me that after Napoleon's defeat, a certain general named his dog Bonaparte. I am sailing along the Black Sea on the steamer "Admiral Nakhimov". On the third day of the voyage, I allow myself to get wet under the warm Caucasian rain, creating mirages that are just a stone's throw away. I see the General and his batman dog. walking along the Neva and meeting Pushkin. My friend is waiting for me in Batumi. director Agadzhanyan, with whom I am traveling by bus to Tbilisi. He takes me to the thermal baths, which were once visited by Lermontov, as well as other famous Russian writers. Agadzhanyan and I begin to chase the clouds, because only under the warm Georgian rains can I see the heroes of my story again. Standing on the balcony of the mountain library and contemplating the valley, we see a cloud of white butterflies rising towards us. Very soon everything around becomes white. We cross the border into Armenia and visit the Sagin Basilica, hiding among the trees. Agadzhanyan sings a psalm to give me the opportunity to listen to its sound under the vaults, covered with stains of dampness. After swimming in the sulfurous water, we climb the stairs to rest in the branches of a giant walnut tree, turned into a kind of hut. It is raining, and the water, warmed by the warmth of the leaves, again evokes the image of the dog Bonaparte, who, according to the General’s strategic plan, goes on strike on the Neva ice along with other St. Petersburg dogs. The shocked Tsar accepts the dog’s demands. As a result, Bonaparte, returning home, for the first time gets the right to sit on the sofa. Agadzhanyan leaves me, and I am left alone to look for the vertical cemetery, where the monks went to await death, leaving the monastery in New Athos. I return to Italy, bitten by mosquitoes that flew into my compartment in the sleeping car. On the border between the Crimean peninsula and the rest of Ukraine, I see a monument to an ear of grain, in which a Tatar bandit was hiding.