A few days ago, my best friend went to business, found out that a small yellow dog from a distance had been kicked off a bottle car by the owner, that the baby stood up on the ground two laps and went after it, and then he didn't catch up to the owner, and that when the dog was on the ground, and he was breathing, and he saw the master's place, and the baby grunted for so long, and when I was with my best friend, I picked him up.
I thought it was a golden hair. My girlfriend said that the dog was just a hot pot, that the dog was lost, and that it had been with the little family for a while, that the little baby had forgotten about the gift, that it was one of them, that the dog was one of them, that many of the passers-by came back to take pictures of it, and that I was told where the dog was bought.
Knowing that the baby had just been abandoned, many people wanted to take it in, and I euphemismally refused, and the dog was starting to rely on one thing and he didn't want to let the baby get hurt again, shopping again with the baby, buying a lot of pets, idealizing a happy life after the dog.
Take the baby back, and sometimes I find the dog crouching around, and see the dog outside, and maybe it's thinking about its former owner. The baby's sad, but I think if I'm good enough for it, the dog will be happy.