When I came home the other day, I found out there was a little milk dog running under my building, and I thought it was so much fun, that the little guy was not alive, and he came up to me, and he looked like he was so sick, and he looked like he wasn't so good, but he didn't look so good, so I wanted to take it home, but I was afraid it was someone else's family and I wanted to find the owner.
If someone did throw it, I took it away, and my wife broke it, and then I came out, and I saw it, and I asked who it was, but I didn't find out, and when a lady saw me, she said, "Don't ask me," and said, "This dog is a dog who's left behind, because it's too young to pee in the house. It's too smelly to throw it away."
I'm really sad when I hear it, and the puppy is so small, it's like a month's size, and it's no wonder it's normal for me to have a piss. The kid's got a piece of shit that his mom and dad are holding up. So I brought it to my home, and the little one was so small, that if he didn't get home, he would certainly starve to death outside, and it's quite impressive, and the little one was so smart, and he couldn't leave it alone.
I wonder if it's too small, and I don't know if my wife likes it, and then I wash her first, and then I change her clothes and pants, and I'm afraid I'll have to admit it. It looks like it's been captured. The stray dog looks like it's all three and seven, but it already has a home, and it's not easy to starve to death on the street. That's all right, and it's lucky that the wife didn't want me to throw it out, thanks to God, the wife's main act was to make me accident and give it back.