When I came home the other day, I saw a puppy lying in the street door. I went home and didn't want to live with me, and I didn't want to live there for days, and I asked why, and I didn't know it was the next-door neighbor who had moved to a new home, the next-door neighbor who had moved to a new home without a dog, who had moved to the city, and the master said that the dog didn't deserve the day-to-day life in their town, left the dog in his home town, and didn't care about it, and the little guy had been living on the streets ever since.
It might think that if it ran away, if the master went home and couldn't find it, it would be better to wait in place and not accept the fact that the master didn't want to think about it. I did feel that the dog was so loyal, that I was moved by it. No wonder everyone wanted the pet. It was the most loyal friend of the people, but the little one was so stupid to stay there.
And then I couldn't look at it, and it looked like it was squeamish, so I approached it quietly, because I used to feed Blackie, and one thing was better known, and I made it food and water, and who knew that the little guy had only had a few drops of water, and now it's getting old, and I can't see it for a few days, and I feel like it's breaking up.
But it's good to see that the little tail is still shaky, and I feel like there's still a chance, so I'm doing everything I can to keep it together, but I'm sure it's a pain in the eye when I see its bitterness, so that I'm willing to give it more time and care, and I'm sure I'm going to give it to the work uniform, and I'm going to take it to the house, and I'm going to spend most of the day with it, and it looks like it's a lot, and I'm really afraid that it's going to get sick, and then I'm happy to see me, and I'm convinced that it's going to turn up in the next two days, and I just hope that it's not too bad.