A few months ago, i wrote a book about dogsStoryAnd when it came to me that i had raised a golden hair before, and one of the neighbours died at night, he was at the door of his house, and he stayed overnight。
I later sent the story elsewhere, and many people agreed, and some said they had had similar experiences。
But there are a lot of people who say that i have no morals, that i preach bad things, and that i say everything。
At first, i was angry with them, and i had a theory, and then i thought that it was not necessary, and that nine years of compulsory education could not convince him, and i took them all away silently。
In any case, the story to be written is still to be written, so let him speak。
I'm going to write a dog's story today. It's also a story of my sensesHorrorI don't know。
Actually, i've always liked dogs since junior high, no matter what. I like dogs。
Back then, the neighbors were almost everywhereGot a dogEvery time someone else had a dog, i went to his house and tried to get one home。
But every time his father stopped him, he always said that the dog was not clean, that the dog would get sick, and that it had not been produced for years。
Until i graduated from college and had my own space, i picked up the preference for a dog, and at first i wanted to have a dog, because the dog ran fast, emptied out of shape, and belonged to a native dog with a royal dog。
In order to find a good breed, i went to sanwon county with a friend of my dog-keeping, and i went to see two people who had a local dog-raising experience, and in the middle i heard the story of the dog king, which was mysterious。
Before i went, i was very excited, and then i found out that the dogs were not for anyone, at least for me。
For, in order to keep the dog in shape and hunting power for a long time, it has to be kept in an environment where it is often hunting in the wild, where it can run, where it can go, where it can't be solved by one or two toy balls, where my ability to provide such an environment is unrealistic。
Later, i left samhara with the dusty eyes of my friend, who saw that i really loved the dog, and gave me a little golden hair, which he said was an absolute english purified species, which he would not regret if i wanted。
Then, as you know, i grew up for a few years and started running around, and i couldn't take care of it, so i sent it to my parents' homes。
At first, i thought my father would say no, but he wasn't. He was happy, not to say no, but even surprised that he had a way to raise a dog, even to train a dog。
I wonder why he kept stopping me every year, since he loved dogs so much and had them so good。
And it was not until, by chance, that i spoke to an old man in the village that i knew that there was a moving and terrible story behind the back of a dog whose father had not raised。
The old man said that when he was young, grandma's family had a good home, a small landowner of the last generation, with more than a dozen long-term workers, of whom he and his grandfather were members。
His great-grandfather then gave his grandmother to him. When they had a family, their flocks were handed over to their grandfather, who was in charge of them, and the elderly helped them。
At that time, he said, grandma's flock was the largest of the eight villages, up to 700 at most, and was difficult to manage。
It's not because of sheep. It's easy in the daytime. No matter how large, there's a lead sheep. As long as the sheep are in control, the sheep don't go anywhere, they follow it。
His difficulty means night。
I was wondering, and i asked him, "isn't it true that the sheep are locked up in sheep's laps at night?"
The old man noded and said, "it's in the sheep's collar, but there's a bunch of things that keep thinking about them."。
He said, "there were wolves in the back of the mountain, all in groups, but in those days, people would starve to death, and the wolves would have anything to eat, and the sheep of grandma's house would have been their targets."。
The wolves enter the village in the middle of nowhere and every time they run away。
He said that his great-grandfather was the best man he had ever seen, and as long as the sheep were moving, he would have a big shovel, standing in the main light of the door, chopping it to the ground, making the sound of it, and then drink a few loudspeakers, and the wolves would run around。
Some have learned this but it's not a good egg, it's just a little bit of time to let the wolves bite to death。
Later, when his great-grandfather and grandfather split their homes, he stopped interfering with the sheep, and when he did not go too far, he gave him two big wolf dogs who said that they were useful in the sheep's collar, but they were not a very well-known breed, a long-haired dog in the countryside。
They're like two gods, dead in the sheep's collar, and even if they were ambushed by wolves, they wouldn't dare to go up there and bite, so grandpa thought they were treasures, delicious and delicious。
Speaking of which, the old man groaned: "what a good dog, but it didn't end well."。
He said, "a year of drought, and in winter, the mountains were bald, so they did not go into the goats, except to add herbs to the sheep's fold, so that it could be done."。
Without grass on the mountain, the wolves lose their prey, and naturally they starve. The wolves are hungry, and they can only lock their targets on the sheep。
One night, in the morning, he slept in the sheep shed, and suddenly heard the noise of a dog barking from outside the door. He was rushing to put on his coat and flushed out with a flashlight. He turned the flashlight towards the sheep's collar, and he was foolish。
The whole sheep collar was full of green eyes, he said, and that was the first time he had seen so many wolves, a dozen of them。
He quickly turned off his flashlight, and by the light of the moon he found that the wolves appeared to be ready, four or five wolves were biting in pieces with two wolves, while the rest were in the sheep's den, chasing the flock around。
At this point, as the sheep's collar was squealing, the wolves got their hands, and several were carrying the bited sheep in their mouths, and ran away from them in the direction of the mountains, and saw the wolves with the two dogs, and pulled them out。
What i didn't know was that the two werewolves turned their backs, pursued the pack and entered the mountain。
The old man was in a hurry to find his grandfather, who was in a hurry to kick his feet, and said, "it's okay to lose the sheep. Don't let anything happen to the dogs. We have to go to the mountains。
Grandpa called up more than 20 strong men in the village, took a flashlight, carried a shotgun and carried a fire into the mountains overnight。
They go into the mountains, walk along the footprints of the wolves, and every time they walk a distance, they find a sheep, who is either bitten or killed, and there will be a lot of blood in the vicinity of these sheep, as well as messy wolf claws。
They continued to go to the mountains and found a total of four sheep, but remained unable to locate two wolves until the following evening, fearing that they would be surrounded by wolves after dark。
When they returned to their homes, they counted the flocks and found that there were five sheep taken by the wolves that night。
The old man went on to say, "your father was eight years old and heard about the loss of two wolf dogs, and wept and wept to the mountains。
For the next two days, he and his grandfather went back several times with their father, but without success。
In the end, grandpa was sneezing and saying, "looks like it's over。
That's why they gave up looking, but their father didn't believe that they would come back, so he sat on the big rock at the door every day and looked at the mountain。
I didn't know the dog was back in three days, but there was only one。
The dog came back with a lot of wounds, a lot of hair was pulled off the skin, and a leg was broken, and it looked good。
Nobody knows what it went through。
Later, as the social component became clearer, in a few years, the grandfather passed away, and the family's property was lost in a few years。
No matter what happens at home, the wolf dog was kept by grandpa
Later on, the wolf dog became an old dog, and life in the home became more difficult, and grandpa was forced to make a living, often out to fetch goods, and the duty to look after the old dog fell on his father。
The old dog is limping every day and playing with his father。
Until my father was 15 years old, one summer morning, it disappeared again, without any sign。
And his father was anxious, and his grandfather called to his father, saying, “let the dog go when he is old.”
A few days later, the village was told that he had seen the body of an old dog by the grave of his great grandfather。
Speaking of which, the old man lit a cigarette gun, snorted twice and said, "some things are hard to bear, and once in a lifetime is enough。
At that moment, i suddenly realized that my father's supposed to have a sick dogTraumaI don't know。
And this weird thing, i think, is understood by people who have dogs。
All right, that's it for today. I'm the old man, a storyteller. Thank you for your support
