And when it comes to dogs, except for the two-hundredth of the "know-how line" and one of the great dramars is just a play. It's like "the world's artist" and it's all there.
Bringing a little pet wood dog to make a skin-dressing, hair-skinning, making a spa, finally cutting a fingernail, that's great. But, since you were little, you're worried about fixing your fingernails. Look at this face, spit out his tongue to the doctor, "Big brother, we don't need nails," and start his show.
But it doesn't seem useful. The moment I saw the doctor pull out the nail knife, his heart resisted, instinctively retrogressed and his body shrunk back.
It's not good to see it. Let's get tough. "Don't touch me, I'm mean, I can bite." And then the back of my teeth, with a stubborn head, I don't want to compromise!
There's no need to fight fearlessly, the doctor starts with wood's leg, the fingernail knife just hits the front paws, and it's always screaming, the big brother with his lips open and his face scared. Why are you screaming? You haven't started cutting yet. The doctor was so happy.
Well, it's about to start, "Wow, whoa, I don't want to look away." Chai hides in the hands of a doctor and is afraid to see. This little playboy, the shit-poaching officer's on the side already laughing.