Remember that when I was a kid living in the countryside, almost every family had a Chinese dog, and we used to call it a dog, or a string of dogs. Dog traffickers were also rampant during that time, often stealing dogs.
When I was a kid, I had a big yellow dog, big, hairy, and my name was Big Yellow. In those years, the village's dog was given a simpler name, a good saying, a good name to feed. I remember when I was walking, I had yellow at home. Parents often go up to the mountains to do farm work. Grandma picks food in the yard and I play with the big yellow dog. Sometimes I play with him at home, with my hands full of strength, and I can't pull yellow. Look at our village, it's a small name.
What's in the house, what's in it, never picks. There's leftovers in the bones, and it tastes good. I'm growing up, I'm growing up, I'm getting stronger, and I'm getting older. Feels like me and Big Yellow are happy and short.
But an accident made Big Yellow leave us forever. A few strangers came to the village that day in a van with chains, cages and stuff. The neighbours are sending messages to each other, and beware of their unkind intentions.
The strangers are pretending to ask if we sell dogs? It is true that there were people who thought that they could make a profit and sold them at a particularly low price. When the leader came to my house, he looked at my house and said to my dad, "You're a good dog. My father said, "This is the dog we have at home. We can't sell it." The dog dealer lied to my dad and said, "It's nothing else to buy back the seed." Dad looked right through them, and he didn't believe in their excuses or refused.
But at night, the dog dealer came to my house and drugged the dog and pulled my big yellow suit off. When we found out, there was only an empty chain, and they stole the big yellow in silence. Dad asked the families who sold the dogs about the whereabouts of the dog dealers, and it didn't work. Yellow lost, I cried for days, Dad's cigarettes went after each other, and Mom said nothing.
As we all know, the yellow ones are so fierce that, until now, their families have referred to the yellow ones and will not stop crying. The dog is also a dog and a life, and it's really annoying to do it for the sake of addiction and the mind of the hunter. Big Yellow left forever, and in those years, countless other “big yellows” also lost their lives.