When I came home a few days ago, I met the neighbor from the east of the village, and he looked a little pale, and I told her that I was going to join his family after I got home. Because his daughter was my age, she was going to play with me, and there was more talk to each other, and I started asking her mother why she was here, and I didn't know at that time. I understood that the only baby they had left was in the trash.
And then she told me that if I hadn't whispered, I would've thrown it away, and now that the boy is full of moons, he can eat himself, and I don't want to live without me. It's hard for me to know when a dog's lost, because it's nice to see a dog when you're old, and you've got a milk dog. It's fun. The dog's only a month old, and it's not good to think about it.
So I've been thinking about it all the time, and then I'm saying that I'm going to leave in a hurry, and then I'm going to go to the dumpster in the village head day and night, and I'm going to look through the trash, and I'm like a psychotic, and I can't understand, I can't find it. After a while, the baby came from nowhere. Maybe he knew me and looked at me like Cute.
At that point, I put it in my arms, and when I took it home, my mother said that it was bad luck to give birth to a dog, and that it was lost. I said it was a new society. Now I see it's lost and I can't laugh. In fact, the dog is pretty good, and it's in the master's hands. If a good owner's dog has a good life, it's bad enough to think about it.