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I carry my day. A neighbor is strangely walking a dog. The dog runs on its own, and this healthy thick forehead in the middle of the yard walks in circles, but not in circles, but in squares. Hands behind the back, eyes to the ground.

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I ask Betty, what is it?

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Bata grit - yes, he is sitting, he is hard off from the sunrise, as he is used to walking in the morning, and he goes out. Sometimes I forget the dog.)