In recent days, people in the neighborhood have been in a state of panic.

A social incident of dog attacks has caused a great uproar.

I live in a pet-friendly community, yet there are still unidentified individuals who have infiltrated and spread poisoned dog food.

The Samoyed owned by Miss Duilou unfortunately fell victim to this and has already gone to the doggy heaven.

Now everyone is even more cautious and dare not take their own furry babies out for walks anymore.

My little dog, Da Fu, hasn't heard me say "let's go downstairs and play" for a long time.

Its wet little nose is pressed against the French window, gazing sadly at the grass below.

Then it turns around and gives me a resentful glance.

Da Fu is a spectacled mutt, a pure-bred Chinese village dog. Running and chasing is its nature.

I'm sure its little head can't understand why I'm keeping it locked inside.

Perhaps it's secretly cursing me.

Sometimes I really wish I had the ability to communicate with animals.

That way, I could scold Da Fu back in stern dog language when it pees everywhere and grins at me.

Originally, this was just an impractical fantasy.

But a few days later, I heard the voice of a pet dog.

It was the dog owned by my boss.