Long time ago there lived a man. His richness was immeasurable, his happiness boiled like running water, his soul was calm. He had all four types of cattle. Also he had two dogs named Tortkoz (Four-eyed) and Moinak (Collar). Tortkoz had been named so because the dog was all of black color, just above the eyes he had two yellow dots, such as his eyes. When he has been was called for, he came caressing, with his head down and looked askance. Then these yellow dots seemed to be eyes. And the second dog's name had been Moinak because his neck was wrapped with a white stripe, and all other body was black.
The two dogs were so smart, that during the daylight they’ve never barked nor attacked any humans, but in the nighttime they vigilantly guarded the nomad camp and the cattle. The owner has always been pleased with them and checked if the dogs are fine himself by asking the wives:
Hey, have you fed Minak and Tortkoz?
Once at noon the cattle came back to the nomad camp and had been having a rest. Rich men, happy and full up returned to the aul form the gatherings and celebrations, young lads and girls also gathered to spend spare time joking, talking and playing.
And the two dogs, satisfied and cheerful were lying near the house, basking in the sun and talking to each other. They were talking about good and evil, generosity and covetousness and finally the conversation turned to friendship and enmity. Moinak with the all-knowing look said:
- Tortkoz. I think: what can be better than friendship? And would ever come a day when we stop wrangle and fight each other? We are fighting for the smallest reason, we never treat each other in a friendly manner. We never peacefully talk and walk along. Every day a new quarrel, every day a new fight. Are we really going to grow old and still be the enemies? We quarrel for every little thing and while we are fighting for it, Kutban steals it from us. I see that Zholdyayak (Lucky Paw), Kutban (Lucky) and Boribasar (Wolfhound) are friendlier than us, leaving in concord and sharing the pray with each other. Why can't we try to live that way? Let us be friends and never argue. If we are going to be the real friends, we will respect each other and won't eat without each other even if it means starvation. What will you say, my friend?
Tortkoz stretched himself, fawned, like Moinak's words have laid hold on him and said:
- Moineke, your words are very true! I've been always thinking - why we are so bully and wicked? What are we missing? We are replete, our master (let him prosper!) respects us, he never treat us badly, never beat or swear at us. We ourselves are guilty of all our problems. We always fight to the blood almost without any reason! Our ancestors never behaved in such a manner, and there is nothing more sacred than the way of our ancestors living. We can be worthy of them!
Moinak stared at Tortkoz and tucked his tail between his legs in uncertainty. He wanted to say: "So let us be friends" but didn't know how to do it after all those years of fighting. At that time Tortkoz himself embraced him in a token of friendship.
- Now we are inseparable friends. We will starve but never again fight for food - they sweared.
Suddenly someone threw a bone out of the window and it landed near the dogs. Both of them rushed to it simultaneously, they began to growl at each other, then began to quarrel and fight. They fought fiercely. Zholdyayak, Kutban and Boribasar heard the fight, came and bite the two "friends", took the bone from them and ate it. Because of noise the cattle began to scatter, and the shepherds gave a good trashing to the fighting dogs and spilled them with the cold water.