Then he swung the door shut.
I tried to get a taste of what was in that bowl, but my mother nudged me away with her nose. It didn't smell as nice as milk anyway. The man moved on, coming back with more bowls in his hands. He put the bowls of food down in the grass and went to the cage of our right. He opened the door, and then he did something that suprised me--he left it open! The puppies with the wiry fur--terriers, the man had called them--tumbled out onto the grass.
"No, not you," the man said to their mother, pushing her back from the door the way he had pushed me.
I watched jealously as those little furballs romped all over the grass. Their mother whimpered quietly behind her closed door. The man had walked away, leaving the yard by a gate in the wooden fence while the puppies rolled on the grass and bit it and barked at it. One peed on it, and then everybody else of course had to sniff that spot carefully.
Then one of the puppies discovered a bowl of food by falling face-first into it. He came up with a snort, licked sticky brown glop from his nose, and fell in again. All of his brothers and sisters crowded around and did the same thing.
After the food was gone, the puppies came over to our cage to sniff us. I licked at the leftover food on their faces while one of my brothers stood on my head
