What the hell do they think? Moving in a pack makes them look good? A sense of self-righteousness to me, nothing else! Moving in packs and losing one's individuality isn't my way. More so, because I like doing it my way. Living my own sordid and dull life in this lane. Kids sometimes play with me, and sometimes throw stones at me. I like this type of existence. Cold is getting on to my nerves now. I won't deny that I am jealous of that stupid Pomeranian who has that stupid orange jacket on him. But would trade my neck being leashed for that warm jacket? Never. I am better off sleeping under the blanket of the chowkidaar at night. Sun, thankfully is still there to warm me on the road. That chowkidaar is an idiot of the first rate though. He sleeps so sound that he doesn't even know when I barge into his little hut which the residents (who are equally idiot to hire a chowkidaar who sleeps more sound than they do!) to put his stuff in. He even forgets to return the keys ...
Trotting on, a regal symphony. Mighty yawn, teeth glowering ominously. That aberrated bark, are my Pug Marks!