""A priest had a dog, he loved her. She ate the piece of meat, a priest killed" her. Here and all love. Foolishness, certainly. I had a dog too. I loved her too. She ate the pieces of meat. And I loved her however. And she died. Became ill a "plague", went bughouse and escaped. The such clever was dog, that could take the liberty of to go bughouse, because it will from what go down. It was in the year one. Many years after, since my favourite dog went bughouse, I had become by a psychiatrist and even (I will not afraid this word) psychotherapist only not doggy, and human, and I treat people that a "plague" are not ill, but from a mind however for go down some reason. And me, how man from nature of curious, question "why in a mind does not it live" them? worried" very much.