The day before yesterday I went to buy food in the street, to go home, to go home from the other road, to think that it was all right, and that life depended on physical exercise, and then when I was tired, I found three little milk dogs in the grass by the road, and I thought they were dead, and I thought they were obnoxious, and they were still dirty, as if no one wanted them, and I felt pretty good when I passed.
But I think it's too bad that I didn't even die, so I came in and found myself breathing in one of them. I was so busy looking at the other two, I didn't know it was a breath, and it really seemed like the little ones were dying, and if they had, it would have been hopeless, it would have been strange, so I held them all in my arms, and I kept them eating, and when I finally came home, I tried to warm them.
It was painful to see the little babies frozen in a cold face when they were covered with warm water bottles and warm cloths, so I prayed quietly, hoping that they would survive, if I could survive and feed them, and then I quickly fed them some baby rice, thinking that more food would give them more heat, which would also help them repair, and that they would certainly be cold and hungry.
And then when our family came home and saw the dogs I found, it became clear that the dogs were the ones who had gone to the streets, and that they were left on the streets, and that it would be the owners who felt they were responsible, or who would have abandoned them. And so small, without the mother of the dog and the milk, there is no doubt that there will be no question of survival, and then, after seeing all of them go to sleep, I understand that they will no doubt come back to sleep, warm and full, so that I will not sleep so well, because I have brought them home, and my responsibility is great. And when I wake up I see a spiritual appearance, and I know that their day is coming, and when I see them I am relieved.