When we were here in Palung a dog used to come to our home. We gave that dog some left over rice, sometimes even hot, milked rice. One day the dog had babies, because the dog was not really ours we asked for one male puppy. We fed that small puppy, made a small cozy box for him, patted him, but usually he slept. After awhile Baba named the puppy ‘Winnie’. He grew up to be a fierce and bad dog ate eleven live chicks, bit some children, and ruined the vegetable fields. Who would like such a dog? We didn’t let him enter to the house and gave him a small portion of food. Winnie hated me most; he tried to bite me too. One morning he was romping around and being a nuisance just as usual…that was the last time we saw him. The next day we were a little alarmed when he didn’t turn up. Then we heard that a large cat-like animal had killed several goats. Well, that was the end of Winnie.
Winnie and his sister
Winnie
Unite my heart to fear thy name 