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Read the passage below and choose the correct answer 191-195 :
   He came out of a stormy February night. Two large eyes glared at me through the darkness of my rain-drenched cabin window and in the gleam of lighting, I saw a large brown body and huge jaws. I feared it was a lion. I had gone to British Columbia, on the Pacific Coast of Canada, to write a novel. For seven months I had lived all alone in my wooden cabin. Scared, I slowly backed into the kitchen for my torch and an axe. I shone the torch through the window to find myself facing a large black and brown dog, his tailwagging wildly. I opened the door slightly and he rushed into the room, bringing pools of water, going half-mad with delight. In spite of his big head he was very thin. The bones showed through his coat. But the look in his eyes said more clearly than any words that he was hungry. I gave him all the meat I could find in the kitchen. Then he spent the next two hours finding different ways to thank me; whining, burying his wet head in my lap, pawing at my legs, reacting to my every look or movement. Every time I looked up from my work, his deep brown eyes were on me, and his tail thumped the floor. So that night in 1967, Booto, the wild dog from forests, came into my lonely life.
   He came out of a stormy February night. Two large eyes glared at me through the darkness of my rain-drenched cabin window and in the gleam of lighting, I saw a large brown body and huge jaws. I feared it was a lion. I had gone to British Columbia, on the Pacific Coast of Canada, to write a novel. For seven months I had lived all alone in my wooden cabin. Scared, I slowly backed into the kitchen for my torch and an axe. I shone the torch through the window to find myself facing a large black and brown dog, his tailwagging wildly. I opened the door slightly and he rushed into the room, bringing pools of water, going half-mad with delight. In spite of his big head he was very thin. The bones showed through his coat. But the look in his eyes said more clearly than any words that he was hungry. I gave him all the meat I could find in the kitchen. Then he spent the next two hours finding different ways to thank me; whining, burying his wet head in my lap, pawing at my legs, reacting to my every look or movement. Every time I looked up from my work, his deep brown eyes were on me, and his tail thumped the floor. So that night in 1967, Booto, the wild dog from forests, came into my lonely life.
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