LIFE OF A DOG
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After being born, I remained with my mother for a year. She fed me, took care of me, fondled me. I played with her joyfully. I enjoyed her affectionate company. A year after my birth, my mother left me alone. Then I was free to find food for myself. I began a life of painful struggle. I'm called Moti. The people in the locality threw the left-overs on the road side, and I lived on them. I've not met with any accident so far. I lived a peaceful life after my separation from my mother. I grew up to be strong and swift. Freedom was the very essence of that part of my life. I was the happiest on Earth. I had no work to do. I couldn't run about anywhere I liked. I would romance with myself. But that didn't last long.
One day a man came into the village in a car. He saw me eating a loaf of bread. He liked me at once. He ordered one his men to fasten a leather collar round my neck. I protested, but in vain. They dragged me into the car and took me to a house. I barked and barked. They left me unfed for two days. I could only whimper, and at last I kept mum. My kidnapper then sold me for five hundred rupees to a gentleman in a neighbouring village. My new master was a man of means. He took me home and gave me a good meal. He was accustomed to a princely style of living. I was very faithful to him. This faithfulness was the high point in my new life. I was always on the alert at night to guard his house and property from thieves.
Time rolled on. His children grew very fond of me. They would take me out for a walk. They threw a ball at a distance and asked me to bring the ball. They often fondled and patted me. I wagged my tail as a sign of gratitude and happiness. They would sometimes beat me but I never dreamt of snapping at them.
At last, this good old master died. I became a property of a new gentleman. He paid little attention to me, then started the evil days. But luck at last smiled at me. She grew fond of me and began to treat me with kindness and care.
After a few months stay I ran away and lived a life of adventure. I was companionless. One day, while I was crossing the main road, a motor car just grazed my tail. What a cruel act!
Now I'm old, they say that a dog lives up to 12 years. I don't worry about death. Welcome national death. I've grown weak, helpless, and remain Hungry all the time. I go about smelling the backyards of big houses. Sometimes I get something to eat but the younger dogs snatch it away. Now I really lead a dog's life, as the saying goes. I'll die unwept, unhindered, unsung.
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A working dog is a dog working animal, a type of dog that is not only a pet but also learns to help its human partner or breed of such a genesis or to work in entertainment, in Australia and New Zealand, a work The dog is the one who has been trained for livestock, even if it is in breeding.
Nice POV, this dog has seen it all. I have to say though, I have never seen a dog eating bread. You are turning out to be an entertaining writer. Keep up the spirit, great things await you.
La historia de Moti es aplaudible. Salud y vida para ti, buen amigo.
The sad lives of pets ...from a free being they become a property of some dominating humans! Humans don't really need any pet. Let animals live their natural life.
I'm not sure how I feel about this story. Am I supposed to feel sad, happy, or bittersweet for this dog?
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Thanks for being here!!
Very touching story 💗 i have a big heart for animals. I about cried when i was reading this.
Question where did u get your story info ? Is this a dog that you or some has now?
What an essay. It's really strong. Despite it's hard life, your dog seems to be a content creature, if not always a happy one.