A friend's wood factory came a few days ago with a puppy full of dirt and lots of mud, and it looked a little bit like Kraji, when the plant was at work, and the dog was walking to a place where the wood was piled up, and he sat down, and the factory's guys were curious to see it, and it didn't recognize it at all, but it looked tired, with its claws full of dirt, dusty servants, and some nice guys, and they drank it with mineral water, and then they drank it out.
And every day after that, there was a man who gave him food and drink, and there was a man who had a sip of it, and who called it "Big Treasure," and he kept walking around the factory every day and didn't think he was the owner. Although it came a few days ago, everyone in the factory knew it, and when he saw it calling his name, it shook its tail at the man who called it and did not follow it. One day, however, when the rich behaved peacefully, they ran a few laps around everyone else after lunch, and almost everyone who had given it food and drink before ran around like a hello, or looked at him.
Then he disappeared in the afternoon, and my friend recalled that it was supposed to say goodbye to everyone at noon, but that it was a big deal, that it was a destination, that it was just in the factory, that it was a shame to leave.