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The worn out face peers at me as I greeted her each morning. Sometimes, she would be beneath my car, just next to the tyre. She would look at me sleepily and walked away to another car, and continued with her snooze. I am still wondering where she got food, staying on the third level of the car park.
She probably has outlived a dog which was also a resident in the block. While she belonged to an owner, she walked as if she owned the whole block. She would join us to take the lift, choosing the floor to get out, take a walk and wait for another lift down. The word life has taken its second meaning, literally. Bless her soul, she must have gone now as I have not seen her for a year.
Will this grand old dame still be around? Each morning looking out for her underneath one of the cars, I am assured that she lives out another peaceful day. I guess, her days are numbered, naturally.
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