There lived a rich Gadzhi in Shahsevan. He had a lot of gold and silver, many rams, sheep, cows, bulls, horses. Its numerous herds grazed on the vast Shahsevan meadows.
He also had a dog - a big brave dog, the pride of his numerous herds, a brave protector of sheep and rams, a faithful friend of fleet-footed horses. Gadzhi loved him and cherished him like the apple of his eye. But nothing lasts forever under the sun! One unfortunate day, Gadzhi woke up and found his faithful dog lifeless at his feet.
Poor, unfortunate dog! He swallowed a bone and it was the cause of his death...
What a misfortune for Gadzhi! Poor Gadzhi was inconsolable! With bitter tears he mourned the death of his faithful, brave friend.
But this is not enough... He ordered his corpse to be wrapped in a white shroud and buried him with such honors as venerable and respected people are usually buried. The mullah had to read the Koran at his grave for three days and three nights in a row. In memory of the faithful dog, Gadzhi organized a wake and for seven days he fed all the poor, the poor, the poor, and distributed alms. The rumor about this reached the chief mullah.
The holy mullah was horrified! He sprinkled ashes on his head and tore his dress.
- Wah, the holy religion has been trampled! The faith of the prophet is mixed with mud! The Koran is forgotten, the imam is forgotten! Sharia is desecrated, Allah is ridiculed! O wicked ones! A hundred thousand times more worthy of death are the people who dared to bury the corpse of a dog with honor and read the Koran over his grave!
Having said this, the mullah mounted his horse and rode to Haji in order to properly punish him for his sacrilege. Haji let him know about the arrival of the chief mullah. He ordered to immediately separate from. his flock of fifty fat sheep, and he himself went to the mullah. Bowing to him to the ground, he kissed the hem of his robe and said:
- Hey, great imam, support and honor of our holy religion! May my parents be victims of the dust of your feet! Listen to the grief of your humble slave. My dog has died, my faithful, glorious Bozdar, the support of my wealth, the protector of my herds, the menace of my enemies! He was kind and smart, he was a true Muslim, he revered mullahs and imams; before his death he even bequeathed to you fifty of the fattest sheep!
- Eh! Don’t call him a dog!.. Call him my brother, my friend!” exclaimed the admiring mullah. - Show me his grave, I’ll go and read the Koran for the repose of his soul!
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru