Having been single for many years, I have somehow become a bitch, and I am still the legendary second-rate loser.
Outside, I am the eldest brother in the whole street. Even the majestic wolf dog in the community security guard's house was coaxed into running around by me. I willingly became the younger brother. I can stand at the top of dog life because of my strength.
At home, I am my master's well-behaved and clever loyal companion (although I often envy the golden retriever brother next door who can sleep with the sweet-smelling beautiful master, but I have never disliked the master for being poor and sloppy)
If you want to have a pig bone to chew on every day, you have to jump up and down to create a little happiness (big trouble) for the owner, drive away the owner's boredom, emptiness, loneliness, and coldness. Sometimes you have to act according to the situation, and give the owner a red thread or something.
The second mother I worshiped said that a successful dog must not only have a successful career, but also take care of love. Maybe it's because other aspects of my life are going smoothly, but my love career is still in a state of ruin.
I don't envy at all those dog brothers who, under the guise of walking with their owners, are actually flirting with girls on the street. Really, there is no jealousy at all. Not all dogs can be my competitors, I firmly believe that! How about asking the brothers in the next building for advice on love skills another day? These gouts promised to be single nobles together, and now they are walking their own little dogs in front of me. You really think I'm not itching, don't you?
Intention: Just laugh