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 My track record is amazing: Since I started living in my house, I've ripped eight notebooks, twelve books, I damaged four watches of all kinds, made five pairs of shoes and six pairs of sandals unusable, and especially lost dozens of pairs of socks for all family members with the close cooperation of the neighboring dogs.

 Ni's father shrugged:

 - The sly boy!

 Ni's mother shook her head:

 - What a robber!

 Ni patted my head:

 - When our dog grows up, he will stop messing around.

 Ni's great-grandmother came to visit and smiled:

 - Such a dog is a real dog. A dog that is not naughty is an unreal dog.

 I crouched under the bed, touching her leg with my nose. How profound are the old people's words! I wanted to shout it out, but there was an invisible levee blocking my desire to be revealed.

 After a while, I realized I was standing in the middle of the house, although I don't remember when I came out of hiding. Maybe it was the excitement that led me.

 Nobody said anything to me. All eyes were silently looking at me.

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