I have a little black dog who has a very unique name – roast meat.
In fact, in the beginning, I had two, one white called Baiye, and one black called roast meat. Far outside the gate shouted, "Hundred leaf roast meat!" The two sisters broke through the siege and ran from the living room to my side, wagging their big tails. At that time, they were only born less than a month ago, and they did not look like they could distinguish who was who, and when they were tired of playing, they lay down by the door and slept shallowly, one by one, like the guards guarding the door in ancient times. The summer sunset in the countryside is just right, the breeze blows away the irritability of the day, and the fluff on the puppy moves, and I don't know whether it is the wind blowing or moving with the breath.
However, as soon as I raised my voice, the whole neighborhood knew that my family had two plush dogs, and the hundred leaves were roasted meat. I felt that I was not very imposing at that time, like the king of the dogs, and at the sound of the order, a small soldier rushed to me.
However, after only one day of shouting "Hundred Leaf Roast Meat", my mother sent the white dog to my aunt's house; I also only briefly became the "dog king" for two days. Simply, my aunt's house is not far away, only two families are separated.
Since then, I have lived a life of "dog slipper".
When she went out to play, she never asked me if I was wearing slippers or nibbling on some pie in my mouth, as if to break free of the leash, spreading her feet and going straight to the nature she loved, rolling on the grass or running under a ginkgo tree to pee. Or when I am not paying attention, I run into other people's homes to eat and drink, and every time at this time, no matter how much I shout, the roast meat, even the throat will be shouted smoke, and it will be ignored, as if I did not exist.
Here again, after about three months of roast meat, I don't like to eat dog food. At first, she would eat broth-soaked rice, and then later, she wouldn't even eat broth-soaked rice, so she had to eat meat and eat meat every meal.
However, the people in my family are not meatless, so the clever roast meat developed her small kitchen.
I always said that her problem was the habit of the well-meaning neighbors in the village, but others did not spoil her, and I could not refuse their kindness.
In our small village, roast meat really implements the saying "thick skin, eat more meat". As long as you smell which one has the smell of meat, you can't walk in an instant, open a pair of innocent eyes, saliva dripping even on the beard is crystal water droplets, straight to the people can't bear it, willing to send her a piece of fragrant flesh. She was also not polite, opening her mouth wide, as if she did not have to chew, and as soon as she swallowed, the whole piece of meat went down to her stomach. When a piece of meat was finished, she did not leave, wagging her tail like a fan, leaning in front of the others, and praying pitifully for the second piece.
It seems like she's been abused in my house for years? This makes me often reflect on whether we didn't treat her well enough.
As long as the door is opened and she is free, the first thing to go to is his house. The owner of the house only needs to catch a glimpse of something dark with the afterglow while cooking, and he will know it. I also followed her once thicker, only to hear the owner of the house greet her warmly: "It's roast meat." Then skillfully pour the bones left over from lunch into a special bowl for roast meat.
A long time later, his family also had a puppy, which is of course a postscript.
Listening to the third master of the village, every day when the roast meat would be eaten at their house for dinner, Mimi would sneak to the table, patrolling the nose tip to sniff the smell, if there was no hint of meat smell, he would never go back to the next house; if he knew that their family had eaten meat, he would die and shake his tail in a flattering way and refuse to leave.
When the third master spoke, he just smiled helplessly and thought it was funny, and I also thought that what the third master said was not a lie, after all, I had personally seen her run out of the third master's house.
It was dark that night, and I was cleaning up the scraps with my family, but after a while I didn't notice the roast meat, and she disappeared. The door was open, and I didn't feel good, and she was afraid that she would run out again to eat and drink. So, he grabbed the door and shouted a few times, "Roast meat!" But the roast meat was deaf. I could be sure that my voice was not small, because my aunt's louvers came straight to me like a tail wagging. I was amazed, maybe when I was a child, the hundred leaf roast meat barked continuously, and the dogs couldn't tell who was who. As for which house to eat the roast meat, I was already left behind by the surprised me. I played with Baiye for a long time, and then the roast meat came out of the Third Master's house, and it was late.
Sisters did not meet each other for a long time, but beat each other up. Maybe it was roast meat that couldn't see That Baiye was intimate with me, and that he was going to bite her left front leg when he came up (of course, it wasn't really bitten); maybe it was Roast Meat who was unusually attached to Shuye's left front leg and only stared at that bite. Her sister is naturally not a stupid dog, will not let her "slaughter", the second dog on the spot to fight, but also attracted a lot of uncles and aunts to stop.
In Uncle Auntie:
"This dog is so fat!" "It's so good to raise!"
In the midst of the discussion, the more courageous the roast meat became.
Her sisters were not as fat as she was, and her limbs were not as developed as burnt meat, and she could only be beaten to the ground and begged for forgiveness.
After a hearty play, the two sisters breathlessly went straight to the place of cold water, roasted meat specially, left the leaf down, and drank a full bowl of water together. Cool water and chang, moisturized the throats of the two dogs, straight to the stomach.
I didn't understand their language, and when they were separated, they agreed to fight again next time.