On rare weekends, the temperature drops and the day seems to wake up a little late. It was still 5 o'clock, and I heard the sound of sesame seeds in the corner of the bed. It was ready to get up, lick its hair and scratch its face as usual, and freshen up. Almost then, I heard its slow-moving steps, walked to the edge of the bed, put two front legs on the edge of the bed, and urged me to get up with a sharp snort.
This is what has happened every morning in the cabin for almost a year. I hurriedly got up and got out of bed, casually put on a piece of clothing, quickly opened the courtyard door, and took it to the grass of the yard to solve the problem. The cold wind outside the house whistled, but it was excited when it went out as usual. Climb the stairs quickly, quickly patrol the corners, and then go to the old place, crouch on the side, and solve a big urine. Each time it hadn't peed clean, it ran away, sniffed around the corners of the yard, and then went to the old place to fix a pile of poop. It was relaxed, I was relieved, and both turned around and went back to the house. It would run quickly to the pool at the back door, waiting for me to grab beanie (dog food) for it. A handful of beans was put into a small basin, and it immediately rattled and ate, even chewed, and even devoured, and all of a sudden the wind swept up and ate. Then he looked up at me and was going to drink milk. Scoop a spoonful of goat milk powder, rinse it with boiling water, mix it with cold boiling water, put it on the ground, and it will immediately lick it with its tongue. I sat on the couch and waited for it, and it came over, looked up, and waited to wipe its mouth, and when it was done, it would go back and lick the small bowl again. Then, just sit in the doorway and wait to get out.
Today I want to get some sleep. After having this idea, I immediately felt that the house was a little cold, the bed was very warm, and it was tempting to return to the cage. Went back to the house to bed, covered the quilt, and sure enough, it was very warm. I opened the book I invited back to the Soy Bean Bookstore the day before, Teacher Jia's "Life Calmly". I have been reading this book for the past two days, and I am ashamed to see that I can't write my own composition. Last night, I watched the "raising rats" article, and I saw that I had been laughing silently, and I even had the shadow of the mouse in my dreams. Half leaning on the bed and looking at it again, to see how the long rat was hovering in Mr. Mister's study, to see how Mr. Mister communicated with it, how it was enlivened with culture, to see how the teacher described it interestingly. Looking at it, he saw himself in the dream, and let himself fly into the teacher's study, his eyes nailed to the roof like a silent camera, to see how the rat ate and picky, how naughty and smooth. His eyes were enjoying it, but his body was getting heavier. I don't know how long I watched, but when about a sleep wave sank and dived out, I heard the humming of sesame seeds in my ears.
Sesame seeds have a variety of sounds and names. The night it was carried home, probably because of the nervousness of the unfamiliar environment, it called timidly twice. After familiarity, when it is excited when going out or when it is angry and dissatisfied, it will scream wildly. One summer morning to take it to the yard, it rushed to an old cat, just when he wanted to fight the dog to play the mighty wind, but he was hit by the old cat's old fist, almost injured, and it made a fierce cry. More often than not, it's all kinds of happy hums that it emits at home. Hum when you want to hold people, hum when you pick someone up, hum when you wake up, hum when you want to eat. It's just that the various hums have different tones, carry different emotions, and will get different feedback. On weekdays, at 6 o'clock, it has eaten and drunk enough, so it will follow me out of the house, walk around the big yard, smell everywhere with its nose, get addicted, and relax its heart, and then go home happily. During the week, when I was going to take my wife to work, she would go out and wait by the car, wait for the door to open, jump on it quickly, and then stand at the window and patrol the line. At about 7 o'clock, after some homework in the morning, it would go back to sleep, sleep sweetly, often dreaming, and occasionally snoring.
Today it hadn't been out for a walk, it hadn't been out for a tour of the city, but I turned to bed. That's not right, there's definitely something wrong with it. It probably thought so, and it lay on the edge of my bed, probably for a long time. It began to hum, concerned, doubtful, anxious, aggrieved, humming louder and louder, and more and more impatient, and began to move its hands and feet. I didn't want to open my eyes, the bed was so warm, like a butterfly flying in a spring garden, and the rat was still intermittently showing its figure. The sound in my ears was getting louder and louder, and the sound of pulling the sheets was getting louder and louder. The sound frightened the teacher's mouse, which ran away without a trace and made my drowsiness tasteless. I had to open my eyes, turn around and see that the window was already lit up, and looked down to see it lying on the edge of the bed, with a bright light in its eyes.
It rested its chin on the edge of the bed, opened its eyes wide with tears in its eyes, and looked at me quietly. It knows I eat soft and not hard, and it knows I can't resist its charm. On weekdays, when it occasionally barks violently, I will use a towel to beat it, although it will not really hit, but it can scare it. It knew that it was not as strong as its master, so it had to choose soft grinding, and when it wanted to do something, it opened its eyes, watched quietly, soaked all its thoughts in its eyes, and let the eyes bring electricity. Every time I was electrocuted, I had to disarm it and let it succeed. Looking at its watery eyes, I was distressed again, so I had to get up, get out of the bed, and walk out of the bedroom with my shoes on.
After washing my hands in the toilet, I came out and started boiling water. The electric teapot sounded, and the room suddenly woke up. The water boiled and spilled out the aroma of old tree tea. With a glass of reddish tea, I sat at my desk ready to write something. I didn't know what to write, but it came snoring.
It slept soundly. Do I want to sleep again? Forget it, now that you're up. Perhaps, the hum it just wanted to wake me up and get me back to the rhythm of my daily routine, so that it could be reassured. I got up, and it went to sleep in peace. Well, don't disturb its return to the cage, and don't let it worry about itself anymore. When I think so, write this passage of dogs, cats and mice.