Central Park in New York, summer sunday. Two garden benches, standing opposite each other, behind them bushes, trees. Peter is sitting on the right bench, he is reading a book. Peter is about forty years old, he is quite ordinary, wears a tweed suit and horn-rimmed glasses, smokes a pipe; and although he is already in middle age, the style of his clothes and his manner of holding are almost youthful.

Jerry enters. He is also in his late forties, and he is dressed not so poorly as sloppy; his once taut figure begins to grow fat. Jerry cannot be called beautiful, but traces of former attractiveness are still visible quite clearly. His heavy gait, lethargy is not due to licentiousness, but immense fatigue.

Jerry sees Peter and starts a small conversation with him. At first, Peter does not pay any attention to Jerry, then he still answers, but his answers are brief, absent-minded and almost automatic - he is impatient to return to interrupted reading. Jerry sees that Peter is in a hurry to get rid of him, but continues to ask Peter about some little things. Peter reacts weakly to Jerry’s remarks, and then Jerry trails off and stares at Peter until he, embarrassed, looks up at him. Jerry offers to talk, and Peter agrees.

Jerry notices what a nice day, then claims to be at the zoo and that everyone will read about it in the newspapers tomorrow and see on TV. Does Peter have a TV? Oh yes, Peter even has two televisions, a wife and two daughters. Jerry poisonously remarks that, obviously, Peter would like to have a son, but it didn’t work out, and now his wife doesn’t want to have children anymore ... In response to this remark, Peter boils, but quickly calms down. He is curious about what happened in the zoo, which is written in the newspapers and shown on television. Jerry promises to tell about this case, but at first he really wants to “really” talk with a person, because he rarely has to talk with people: “Unless you say: give a glass of beer, or: where is the restroom, or: do not give free rein to your hands buddy - and so on. ” And on this day, Jerry wants to talk with a decent married man, to learn everything about him. For example, does he have ... uh ... a dog? No, Peter has cats (Peter would prefer a dog, but his wife and daughters insisted on cats) and parrots (each daughter has one thing). And to feed "this horde" Peter serves in one small publishing house that publishes textbooks. Peter earns one and a half thousand a month, but never carries with him more than forty dollars ("So ... if you ... a bandit ... ha ha ha! .."). Jerry begins to figure out where Peter lives. Peter at first awkwardly twists, but then nervously admits that he lives on Seventy-fourth Street, and notices Jerry that he is not so much talking, but interrogating. Jerry does not pay much attention to this remark; he absently speaks to himself. And here Peter again reminds him of the zoo ...

Jerry absentmindedly replies that he was there today, “and then he went here,” and asks Peter, “what is the difference between the middle-middle class and the lower-middle class”? Peter does not understand, and here it is. Then Jerry asks about Peter's favorite writers (“Baudelaire and Markend?”), Then suddenly declares: “Do you know what I did before I went to the zoo? I walked all along Fifth Avenue — all the way on foot. ” Peter decides that Jerry lives in Greenwich Village, and this consideration seems to help him understand something. But Jerry doesn’t live in Greenwich Village at all, he just got to the metro to get to the zoo from there (“Sometimes a person has to make a big detour to the side in order to return back in the right and shortest way”).In fact, Jerry lives in an old four-story apartment building. He lives on the top floor, and his window faces the courtyard. His room is a ridiculously tight closet, where instead of one wall there is a plank partition separating it from another ridiculously tight closet in which a black fagot lives, he always, when plucking his eyebrows, keeps the door wide open: “He plucks his eyebrows, wears a kimono and goes to closet, that's all. ” There are two more rooms on the floor: in one there is a noisy Puerto Rican family with a bunch of children, in the other there is someone whom Jerry has never seen. This house is an unpleasant place, and Jerry does not know why he lives there. Perhaps because he does not have a wife, two daughters, cats and parrots. He has a razor and a soap box, some clothes, an electric stove, dishes, two empty photo frames, several books, a deck of pornographic cards, an old typewriter and a small safe box without a lock, in which lie the sea babes that Jerry still collected as a child. And under the stones there are letters: “please” letters (“please do not do this and that” or “please do this and that”) and later “former” letters (“when will you write?” , "when will you come?").

Mom Jerry ran away from dad when Jerry was ten and a half years old. She embarked on an annual adultery tour of the southern states. And among other so many mom's affections, the most important and unchanging was pure whiskey. A year later, dear mother gave God her soul in a landfill in Alabama. Jerry and daddy found out about it just before the New Year. When daddy returned from the south, he celebrated New Year for two weeks in a row, and then he got drunk on the bus ...

But Jerry was not left alone - there was a mommy sister. He remembers little about her, except that she did everything severely - and slept, and ate, and worked, and prayed. And that day, when Jerry graduated from high school, she “suddenly roamed herself right on the stairs at her apartment” ...

Suddenly Jerry finds himself forgetting to ask the name of his interlocutor. Peter introduces himself. Jerry continues his story, he explains why there is not a single photograph in the framework: "I have never met any lady, and it never occurred to them to give me photographs." Jerry admits that he cannot make love to a woman more than once. But when he was fifteen years old, he met a whole week and a half with buckwheat, the son of a park watchman. Maybe Jerry was in love with him, or maybe just sex. But now Jerry really likes pretty ladies. But for an hour. Not more...

In response to this confession, Peter makes some insignificant remark, to which Jerry responds unexpectedly aggressively. Peter also boils, but then they apologize to each other and calm down. Then Jerry notices that he expected Peter to be more interested in pornographic cards than photo frames. Indeed, Peter must have already seen such cards, or he had his own deck, which he threw away before marriage: “For a boy, these cards serve as a substitute for practical experience, and for an adult practical experience replaces fantasy. But you seem to be more interested in what happened at the zoo. ” At the mention of the zoo, Peter is animated, and Jerry tells ...

Jerry talks again about the house in which he lives. In this house, with each floor down, the rooms are getting better. And on the third floor there lives a woman who cries quietly all the time. But the story, in fact, about the dog and the mistress of the house. The mistress of the house is a fat, stupid, dirty, vicious, always drunk pile of meat ("you must have noticed: I avoid hard words, so I can not describe her properly"). And this woman with her dog guards Jerry. She always hangs down at the bottom of the stairs and makes sure that Jerry does not drag anyone into the house, and in the evenings, after the next pint of gin, she stops Jerry and strives to cram into a corner. Somewhere on the edge of her bird's brain, a vile parody of passion stirs. And here Jerry is the subject of her lust.To stop her aunt, Jerry says: “Is it not enough for you yesterday and the day before yesterday?” She puffs up, trying to remember ... and then her face smiles in a blissful smile - she recalls what was not there. Then she calls the dog and leaves for herself. And Jerry is saved until the next meeting ...

So about the dog ... Jerry tells and accompanies his long monologue with an almost continuous movement, hypnotically acting on Peter:

- (As if reading a huge poster) HISTORY ABOUT JERRY AND THE DOG! (In usual tone) This dog is a black monster: a huge muzzle, tiny ears, red eyes, and all the ribs bulge outward. He growled at me as soon as he saw me, and from the first minute of this dog I was not at peace. I am not St. Francis: animals are indifferent to me ... like people. But this dog was not indifferent ... Not that he rushed at me, no - he waddled smartly and persistently after, although I always managed to escape. This went on for a whole week, and, strangely enough, only when I went in - when I went out, he paid no attention to me ... Once I thought about it. And I decided. First I’ll try to kill the dog with kindness, and if it doesn’t work out ... I’ll just kill it. (Peter twitches.)

The next day I bought a whole bag of cutlets. (Jerry depicts his story in faces). I opened the door - he is already waiting for me. It is tried on. I carefully entered and put the cutlets about ten paces from the dog. He stopped growling, sniffed, and moved toward them. He came, stopped, looked at me. I smiled ingratiatingly at him. He sniffed and suddenly - gum! - attacked cutlets. As if he hadn’t eaten anything in life except rotten cleanings. He immediately ate everything, then sat down and smiled. I give my word! And then - once! - how to rush at me. But here he did not catch up with me. I ran to my room and began to think again. To tell you the truth, I was very offended, and I got angry. Six great cutlets! .. I was just offended. But I decided to try again. You see, the dog clearly had antipathy for me. And I wanted to know if I could overcome it or not. For five days in a row I wore cutlets to him, and the same thing always repeated: growls, sniffs the air, comes up, devours, smiles, growls and - time - on me! I was just offended. And I decided to kill him. (Peter makes pathetic attempts at protest.)

Do not be afraid. I did not succeed ... That day I bought only one cutlet and, as I thought, a lethal dose of rat poison. On the way home, I kneaded the cutlet in my hands and mixed it with rat poison. I was both sad and disgusted. I open the door, I see - sitting ... He, poor fellow, did not realize that while he was smiling, I would always have time to escape. I put the poisonous cutlet, the poor dog swallowed it, smiled and once! - to me. But I, as always, rushed upstairs, and he, as always, did not catch up.

And BECAUSE THE PES MUCH SICKED!

I guessed because he did not wait for me anymore, and the hostess suddenly sobered up. That same night, she stopped me, she even forgot about her vile lust and for the first time opened her eyes wide. She turned out to be just like a dog. She whimpered and begged me to pray for the poor dog. I wanted to say: Madame, if we pray, then for all the people in such houses as this ... but I, Madame, do not know how to pray. But ... I said I would pray. She looked up at me. And suddenly she said that I was lying and I probably want the dog to die. And I replied that I didn’t want this at all, and that was true. I wanted the dog to survive, not because I poisoned it. Frankly, I wanted to see how he would treat me. (Peter makes an indignant gesture and shows signs of growing dislike.)

It is very important! We need to know the results of our actions ... Well, in general, the dog got stuck, and the hostess was again attracted to gin - everything became as before.

After the dog got better, I went home from the cinema in the evening. I walked and hoped that the dog was waiting for me ... I was ... obsessed? .. bewitched? .. I was in my heartache eager to meet my friend again. (Peter looks at Jerry with a sneer.) Yes, Peter, with his friend.

I entered the door and, no longer guarded, went up to the stairs. He was already there ... I stopped. He looked at me, and I looked at him. It seems that we stood for such a long time ... A dog cannot stand the human gaze for long. But in the twenty seconds or two hours that we looked into each other's eyes, a contact arose between us. That's what I wanted: I loved the dog and wanted him to love me. I was hoping ... I don’t know why, I was expecting the dog to understand ... (Peter listens as if hypnotized. Jerry is extremely stressed.) The thing is ... If you can’t communicate with people, you need to start with something else. WITH ANIMALS! (Jerry speaks faster, in a conspiratorial tone.) A person must necessarily somehow communicate with at least someone. If not with people ... so with something else. With a bed, with a cockroach, with a mirror ... no, with a mirror this is the last thing ... With ... with ... with a roll of toilet paper ... no, this is not good either. See how difficult it is - very little is good! S. with a deck of pornographic cards, with a safe ... WITHOUT A LOCK ... to know with love, with vomit, with crying, with fury because pretty ladies are not pretty and not ladies at all, with the trade in the body, which is a vessel of love, with heart-rending howl, because you won’t die in any way ... With God. How do you think? With God, and he is in my neighbor, who walks in a kimono and plucks his eyebrows, in that woman who always cries behind his door ... with a god who, I was told, turned his back on our world long ago. And sometimes ... and with people. (Jerry sighs heavily.) With people. Speak. And where in this humiliating semblance of a prison is it better to share some simple thought, if not in the staircase, by the stairs? And try ... to understand and to be understood ... with whom is it better to try than with ... a dog.

So, the dog and I looked at each other. And since then it has gone. Each time we met, he and I froze, looked at each other, and then depicted indifference. We already understood each other. The dog was returning to a pile of rotten garbage, and I walked unhindered. I realized that kindness and cruelty only in combination teach to feel. But what's the use of it? The dog and I came to a compromise: we do not love each other, but we do not offend, because we are not trying to understand. So tell me, what I fed the dog can be considered a manifestation of love? Or maybe the efforts of a dog to bite me were also a manifestation of love? But if we are not given to understand each other, then why did we even come up with the word “love”? (There is silence. Jerry walks up to Peter's bench and sits down beside him.) This is the end of the Story of Jerry and the Dog.

Peter is silent. Jerry suddenly abruptly changes his tone: “Well, Peter? Do you think you can print it in a magazine and get a couple of hundred? AND?" Jerry is cheerful and lively, Peter, on the contrary, is alarmed. He is bewildered, he declares almost with tears in his voice: “Why are you telling me all this? I DID NOT UNDERSTAND ANYTHING! I DO NOT WANT TO LISTEN MORE! ” And Jerry peers eagerly at Peter, his cheerful excitement gives way to a languid apathy: “I don’t know what I thought ... of course, you don’t understand. I do not live in your quarter. I am not married to two parrots. I am an eternal temporary dweller, and my house is the worst room in the West Side, in New York, the greatest city in the world. Amen". Peter backs away, trying to joke, Jerry laughs forcefully in response to his ridiculous jokes. Peter looks at his watch and is about to leave. Jerry doesn't want Peter to leave. He first persuades him to stay, then begins to tickle. Peter is terribly afraid of tickling, he resists, giggles and shouts his falsetto almost losing his mind ... And then Jerry stops tickling. However, tickling and internal tension with Peter is almost hysterical - he laughs and is unable to stop. Jerry looks at him with a motionless mocking smile, and then utters in a mysterious voice: “Peter, do you want to know what happened at the zoo?” Peter stops laughing, and Jerry continues: “But first, I'll tell you why I got there.I went to take a closer look at how people behave with animals and how animals behave with each other and with people. Of course, this is very approximate, since everyone is fenced off with bars. But what you want is a zoo, ”Jerry pushes Peter in the shoulder with these words:“ Move over! ” - and continues, pushing Peter harder and harder: “There were animals and people, Today is Sunday, there were a lot of children there [poke sideways]. Today it’s hot, and the stink and cry there were decent, crowds of people, sellers of ice cream ... [Poke again] ”Peter begins to get angry, but moves obediently - and now he sits on the very edge of the bench. Jerry nibbles Peter by the hand, shoving him off the bench: “Just fed the lions, and the guard [pinch] entered the cage to one lion. Want to know what happened next? [pinch] "Peter is stunned and outraged, he calls on Jerry to stop the disgrace. In response, Jerry gently demands that Peter walk away from the bench and move to another, and then Jerry will tell what happened next ... Peter pitifully resists, Jerry, laughing, insults Peter (“Idiot! Dumbass! You plant! Go lie down on the ground! ”). Peter in response boils, he sits down denser on the bench, demonstrating that he will not leave anywhere: “No, to hell! Enough! I won’t give up the bench! And get out of here! I warn you, I will call a cop! POLICE!" Jerry laughs and doesn't move off the bench. Peter exclaims with helpless indignation: “Good God, I came here to read quietly, and you suddenly take away my bench. You are crazy". Then he again fills with rage: “Come away from my bench!” I want to sit alone! ” Jerry mockingly teases Peter, burning him more and more: “You have everything you need - a house, a family, and even your own small zoo. You have everything in the world, and now you need this bench too. Are people fighting for this? You yourself do not know what you are saying. You stupid man! You have no idea what others need. I need this bench! ” Peter trembles with indignation: “I have come here for many years. I am a solid person, I am not a boy! This is my bench, and you have no right to take it from me! ” Jerry calls Peter to a fight, urging: “Then fight for her. Protect yourself and your bench. ”Jerry takes out a knife and opens it with a click. Peter is scared, but before Peter can figure out what to do, Jerry throws a knife at his feet. Peter is numb in horror, and Jerry rushes to Peter and grabs him by the collar. Their faces are almost close to each other. Jerry calls Peter to the battle, giving a crack at every word “Fight!”, And Peter screams, trying to break free from Jerry’s hands, but he holds tight. Finally, Jerry exclaims, “You didn't even manage to make your wife a son!” and spits on Peter in the face. Peter is furious, he finally breaks out, rushes to the knife, grabs him and, panting, steps back. He squeezes the knife, holding out his hand in front of him, not for attack, but for protection. Jerry, taking a deep breath, (“Well then, let it be so ...”), running upstairs, he stumbles upon his knife in Peter's hand. A second of complete silence. Then Peter screams, pulls back his hand, leaving the knife in Jerry's chest. Jerry emits a scream - the scream of an angry and mortally wounded beast. Stumbling, he goes to the bench, falls on it. The expression on his face has now changed, it has become softer, calmer. He speaks, and his voice sometimes breaks, but he seems to overtake death. Jerry smiles, “Thank you, Peter. I seriously thank you. ” Peter stands motionless. He was numb. Jerry continues: “Oh, Peter, I was so afraid that I would scare you ... You don’t know how I was afraid that you would leave and I would be alone again. And now I’ll tell you what happened at the zoo. When I was at the zoo, I decided that I would go north ... until I meet you ... or someone else ... and I decided that I would speak with you ... I’ll tell everyone ... this that you don’t ... And that’s what happened. I don’t know ... Am I planning this? No, it’s unlikely ... Although ... probably this is exactly what.Well, now you know what happened at the zoo, right? And now you know what you read in the newspaper and see on TV ... Peter! .. Thank you. I met you ... And you helped me. Nice Peter. " Peter is almost swooning, he does not budge and begins to cry. Jerry continues in a weakening voice (death is about to come): “You better go. Someone can come, you don’t want to be caught here? And don't come here anymore, this is no longer your place. You lost a bench, but defended your honor. And here’s what I’ll tell you, Peter, you are not a plant, you are an animal. You are also an animal. Now run, Peter. (Jerry takes out a handkerchief and erases fingerprints from the handle of a knife.) Just take the book ... Hurry ... "Peter hesitantly approaches the bench, grabs the book, steps back. He hesitates for a while, then runs away. Jerry closes his eyes, raving: “Run, the parrots have cooked dinner ... the cats ... are laying on the table ...” From afar, a mournful cry of Peter is heard: “OH MY GOD!” Jerry shakes his head with his eyes closed, mockingly mocking Peter, and at the same time, in his pleading voice: "Oh ... god ... mine." Dies.