Yesterday morning, when I left work and went on the road with Poppy, people were talking about where to eat, when they saw a little dog from across the door begging for shelter, when the baby was starving, when one of the little guys saw the dog's body dirty and kicked away, and when the little boy was kicked down the road, and a little baby fell down on the dirt, and didn't show what was going on back there, and it was two or three seconds before he started screaming.
As if I were looking for some comfort, when I saw its poor puddle, I ran away and held it up, and the baby was as if he knew that I was a good heart, and he didn't break it out, but he was in my arms, like a child who had been held hostage, and it was really fun to see its Zuba's face, so I thought about how to deal with it, looking at it so small that he could not see it in the cold streets.
So he was prepared to take them home in advance, and then he said, "Why do you have a stray dog, if you want to have a speech, you can't have a pure dog. It's just too bad to take it with you, and it's not too embarrassing to ask if you can find it. And when I heard that, I was speechless, and whoever lets you say that is so that he may meet him, and so that he may love it.
And the puppy looks like I've got a lot of things in common, and then I'm embarrassed to keep a stray dog, so I'm back with a dog, and I think it's not important to have a dog, and it's important that you don't talk to it, that you don't talk to it, that it's pretty clear to me, that it's funny to see it when I get home, that little kid's stupid, that he looks like he's so cute, that he doesn't have to focus on the kind, and I think the usual puppy is kind of nice.