Two years ago, a new dog, with long pointed ears, entered the colony I live in. Nobody wanted the new stray to stay in the premises, and so all the watchmen were kept very busy every day chasing it out of the gates, but somehow it managed to enter again and I marvelled at its perseverance.
Not only did it have to contend with the watchmen, the pump man and all the sweepers who ran after it with their brooms and sometimes empty dustbins but it also had to deal with the three existing strays in the colony.
These three dogs who were a gang ran after this fellow and there wasn’t a day when there wasn’t a dog fight. But this fellow was big and strong, and soon I found that the lead black dog and this chap had become friends and he was part of their gang. The watchmen, the pump man and the sweepers gave up, especially when an influential gentleman in the colony and his wife, took a fancy to this fellow and started feeding him every day.
So Mr Pointed Ears had won. He stayed on in the colony; soon the black dogs, who were quite old, died one after the other and this fellow was the only one. He was petted, pampered and stopped running around or exercising himself and became fat and lazy.
This morning, a new dog entered our colony.