At the entrance of my house, there's a very special neighbor - a little gray dog. I can't recall when it started, but it and its friend, a small yellow dog, have been staying in our building. They bark at domesticated dogs passing by, at homeless people, at vehicles on the street, to the point that I am afraid of them.
These two dogs act like bullies, and whenever I come home, I make sure to avoid them.
They are like brothers, enduring hardships together. When it rains, they huddle under a car, scavenge through garbage piles for food, and share water from puddles. On rainy days, they even huddle together for shelter.
One day, it started drizzling, and in my haste to get home, I encountered the two menacing pairs of black eyes staring at me – the two little bullies. Fearful of their potential aggression, I slowly backed away, pulled out my phone, and called my husband for help. Just as the call connected, the two little dogs pitifully emerged, walking towards me along the windowsill. Stunned and unsure of what to do, I watched as the yellow dog tilted its head towards the entrance. I uttered, "Thank you" to the dogs. The next day, I found two piles of dog poop at my doorstep.
I shared the story of these two dogs with another neighbor. They said these dogs must have a special connection with me. However, my husband is afraid of dogs, and keeping a pet, let alone a stray one, is out of the question.
A few days after the New Year, I heard a dog howling at night, as if it were crying. Curious and scared, I didn't dare go outside to see what was happening. That night, the dog howled for a long time, and I listened in my room for an extended period. Since that day, I haven't seen the little yellow dog again.
The following night, the little gray dog stood on the neighbor's motorcycle, howling at the sky.
Winter is always cold, and I can see the little gray dog sitting at the warehouse entrance, trembling with cold.
The window by the dining table faces the warehouse and the little gray dog. My husband remarked that the dog looked thin and wondered if it could survive the winter. Later, I heard from the neighbor that the little yellow dog had died in the cold wind.
Out of pity, I mustered the courage to go outside with some sausage. Instead of eating, the little gray dog came over, licked my leg, and then lay down, exposing its belly, inviting me to play. To my shock, I noticed surgical scars on the little gray dog; it wasn't a stray but a discarded pet.
Since then, the little gray dog has been lying under cars. It follows me whenever I leave, accompanies me when I take out the trash, walks me to the roadside to catch a cab, and runs towards me from a distance. It recognizes me regardless of what I'm wearing.
Every night, the little gray dog lies on the mat in front of my house. When my husband comes home, he tells it, "Go away." The dog, without ever barking, sadly runs outside.
In ten days, I'll be leaving home for work far away. During these days, I deliberately avoid encountering the little gray dog, hoping it will stay away from me. Today, I waited at the entrance for a friend, and not far away, the little gray dog ran over and quietly lay down in front of me.
I know it lies at my doorstep every day, so I rarely go out at night. Each night, I hear my husband repeatedly saying, "Go away." I know it's guarding me every evening.
I hope the little gray dog forgets about me, finds a new owner, eats well, and doesn't have to endure the cold wind.