Fan Sharing:
When I went out yesterday and found it raining, I couldn't find it, and then I ran back to get an umbrella, and when I walked two steps back, I found a dying little milk dog in the door, and the dog had no eyes open, and it was dirty, and I looked like my heart was bleeding. It was so pathetic to see how weak it was, to see if it was still breathing, to see if it was still alive.
I took it back to my house, and I watched it get dirty, wet, cold, and I made it a warm bath, and then the paint went up to a hundred and eight. But it still looks fragile. I was careful to bathe it because it was too weak for me to push, because I was afraid I'd accidentally mutilate it. It was so hard to be so careful of my hands and feet that I wanted to keep it alive, but look at it so pathetic that I didn't drink it.
I'm really worried about it, I've got a little box, I've put something on it. It's summer, but I'm afraid it'll cool down, and it's like a cold saying your mom thinks you're cold, and I'm worried about putting something on it. And for the last half-day it's not only been without water, it's been humbling, I've never even opened my eyes, I've lost my heart, I'm afraid it'll die, I suddenly feel that life is really fragile, and I must cherish it, after all, how hard it is.
And then I couldn't just watch it go on like this, yet again throwing up red blood, and I was so scared that I went to the pet store with it in the rain, and I got so cold when I heard from the doctor, who said that the dog was probably hit hard, bleeding inside, and that there was little hope for me to give up. It's too small, too weak, too weak to cope with surgery, and I couldn't bear to hear the doctor's voice when my tears came out, and I didn't know what had happened to it, even though it was only a day before I knew it, and it didn't even open its eyes to look at me. It was a cruel thing for me, and if I had met it earlier, I wouldn't have suffered from it.