The plastic bag runner This Friday, when I was waiting for bus at a bus station, I saw a black dog. Let us call him black. I guessed Black was a homeless dog for his fur was dirty and messy. Black swayed his tail to a woman, but the woman stepped backwards and kept playing her phone. I had an eye contact with Black. Sometimes, I like animals more than human but I am not good at expressing my adoration through eyes. So maybe in Black’s point of view, I was a strange guy who stared at him with a poker face. Then a gust of wind blew, and a plastic bag rode on wind and flew to the middle of the road. Black was so excited and chased the bag without hesitation. “Don’t! Please...” I said it in my mind, because Black would be crashed down by the stream of traffic. He ran to the other side of road and jumped to bite the plastic bag. I was watching at him and afraid seeing him being crashed. Fortunately, Black turned over and ran back safely. He was so happy to get that plastic bag. Although the bag couldn’t be eaten or liven in, it brought happiness to Black.