What chances can just a shadow of a deadly thin dog, full of demodicosis and with a chopped off leg have?
He was walking on the ring road, probably to escape the crowded areas where everyone was shooing him here and there. The things he’s endured, the kicks he’s received because he is sick, with scabies, the times he’s searched in garbage for a bread crust; the rainy, cold nights he’s spent on the edge of the road in Bucharest….- only his soul knows about these. Continue reading