When I came home the other night, when I saw a stray dog in front of a shop, I thought it was trying to get something to eat in the store, but then I realized that the store didn't really want to feed it, so it was too much to give it some leftovers. Look at his poor face, tell me I can't stand to run away from him, and I can't see it anymore. As a result, the shopkeeper looked very upset, saying that the stray dog was pathetic, but fed it once and that it would come every day.
After all, I can't be a restaurant full of stray dogs every day, and I don't have to do this business. It makes sense when I listen to this, it's just that I'm being naive, and then one of the shoprs complains about me, saying that he fed the stray dogs before, but then the customers gave it away, so he had to throw it out, and he whispered to me, saying that he sometimes put his food in a place a little away from the store, and that the store was heartless.
At this point, I understand that this shop is actually a man of passion, because I buy something to eat, and I feed it with determination, and that's what I feed it, and then, when I buy it in the store, the dog comes to me as soon as I look at the food, and as soon as I want to pounce, so I'm going to put it down, and I'm going to eat it, and I'm going to eat it, and I'm going to eat it out, and I'm going to remember that even though it won't be easy for me to starve again tonight, and when I remember, this son of a bitch is already half hungry, and I'm really hungry.
I feel like I'm thinking too much, and I just want to come home with me, and I think it's a sad thing to look at my eyes when I think about it, and I think about it, so take it in, it's not too much, it's just one, and it's so pathetic.