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In the winter night, the wind lifted the footsteps and went to rest in the woods. The night was quiet. The village is quiet and peaceful. Above the sky is another lively scene, the heavens seem to be hosting a grand event, and the stars are flickering vigorously. Distance is just the indifference between people. Otherwise, why is the starry sky so far away, I can feel its warmth.
The wind moves Yesheng Mountain Dog to bark. There were several barks in the quiet night, barking lazily. It was the only bitch in the village, and the yellow soil dog at Lao Wu's house was catching the wind. Every time it saw me, he always looked at the blankness that he had never known before, and hesitated to bark or be silent. Even if it is called a few times, it is a symbol that is greater than reality. Rather than a warning to a living person, it is better to tell its owner to live up to the nurturing grace of the old uncle. In fact, every time it sees a stranger, it doesn't want to express maliciousness in its heart, but just barks a few words away or stares at it with impunity, then bites its tail and lies on the middle of the road, burying its chin in the grass , Close your eyes, sniff the scent of wild flowers on the roadside, keep your ears from listening to human affairs, and let strangers pass by it. I remember that in the previous villages, chickens and dogs were idle, and they roamed, and there were many dogs, yellow, black, flowery, and various, and from time to time they did some tricks to catch mice and hares. In addition to asking them to take care of the home, the villagers took them to the mountain sheds and paddy fields to protect the corn and rice. There is a dog barking in the village, and the dogs will all respond, their voices will almost overturn the roof tiles and go straight into the sky. When nothing is done, they will be shameless in the eyes of the sun-drenched field, or they will fight for a bone.
In "Story of the Difference", the poet Lu Ji raised a dog named "Yellow Ear" in Luoyang. One day, Lu Ji was homesick and said to Huang Er, "I have no letter in my house. Isn't the news? "Huang Er gladly took the lead and only took half a month to send a letter from Lu Ji to his family to Wu County, Wu County, Wu County, and brought back a reply from his family. After Huang Er's death, Lu Ji buried it thickly with a coffin, and the grave was called "Huang Erzuo." I can't say I like or dislike dogs, but I like Lu Ji's respect for life. Most dogs in the world are not as lucky as yellow ears. For example, the home of our village dogs is basically at the table. During their lifetime, they looked after the nursing home for the host. After death, the body was used by the owner to drink and eat, and even the bones would be taken away by its peers. When they were bored, they slowly bite.
Therefore, there is a saying in our village: "Dogs don't recognize bones" refer to those who are ruthless and meaningless and forget their ancestors. My family had a clever flower and soil dog, who followed his father to work in the mountains every day, and came out early and returned home. One year, the camellia seed was harvested, and the work was finished in the evening. My father and I each picked up a load of camellia seeds, and there were two bags I could n’t take home, and I was restless on the mountain. My father took off his coat and covered the camellia seeds. Then come back and pick, and let our dog guard the tea seed. By the time we got home, it was very late and tired, and my father said he would pick it again in the morning. In the early morning the next day, my father and I went up the mountain and saw that our flower dog was still squatting beside the oil-tea seed with due diligence, covered with dew. Later, two young men in the village secretly took away my dogs and sold them to dog dealers. After being found, the two young men said that they lost money, and the father didn't want to, and they had been unwilling to forgive them.
Sleeping asleep in the dog's bark next door, and waking up in the sound of chickens, what was once so common now is a luxury. Hometown is the cradle of life. When we are young, we are protected by her. Everyone wants to return to the cradle and not want to grow up. I usually live in my hometown without any strong feelings. When we are far away from our hometown, we will remember her warmth after remembering many cold events and remember her well. In today's hometown, people are not busy, and even dogs are alone. Maybe, it won't be long before this old dog from the old uncle's house will disappear. Without the roar of the dog, the village is an empty shell without a soul. Maybe, one day, my parents will grow old and I will have a hard time returning to the village. The thought of this is inevitably sad. Early the next morning, I got up and walked around the village. I wanted to see the barking dog that barked last night. I haven't met for a year. I don't know if he knows me. Its cry, like a stubborn flag, flutters with perseverance and perseverance, supporting our confidence and hope.
I saw it. This dirt dog is aiming around the village aimlessly. It must be looking for bones. It can't be cute or abominable, it has thin legs, a thin body, and yellow hair is sparse and dense. It stopped in front of a house and looked up at the rusty iron lock on the knocker, as if trying to remember the person in this house. It saw me, turned a blind eye to me, neither barking nor flicking. Passing by me, it didn't run or stop, seemed very calm, and walked towards the old five uncle's house unhurriedly. I followed it and stopped in front of Uncle Wu's house. Uncle Wu was working outside the construction site, Wuyi said. Suddenly, two fat puppies ran back and forth behind Wuyi, not three, oh, two more puppies, a total of five puppies, pounced on the dirt dogs-their mother.
What a lovely puppy, yellow, black, and flowery, stumbled, swayed, like many of our childhood friends.
Edit: Wen Chao