Of dogs and mates

She was a small, hairy, full of energy maltese dog. Her name was Negrita, which I picked up after a cuban novel I read as a child. The main character was this half breed black dog who runs away from her brutal owners and joins the "jibaros" , the wolves of the mountains. I guess that´s the spirit I tought she had.
My first canine companion were Akela and Gray Brother, two indian wolves who adopted me into their pack, after Bagueera the black panter paid with a buffalo for my life and Baloo, the old bear who teach the cubs the law of the jungle, spoke on my behalf. With them I went to the monkey city and fought the dholes, nasty dogs from the north. I learned about the holy men of India and colonialism and how, at the end, men must return to men. My second dog was a half wolf, half dog named White Fang. I met him as a child and he has been with me for more than twenty years, living adventures next to the Yukon and experiencing the hard life of the tundra. After them there has been a number of canines who have been my friends, from the ridiculous looking Benji to the mystical experience of Never cry wolf.
In this other side of reality, my first love was with Mariachi, a street dog who decided that he had finally come to find home living outside my building. He was black and brown, brave and tender, and he use to take long walks with me when walking around seem to be the only cure for a troubled mind. He would accompany me the two blocks to take the school bus and every afternoon when I got down of it he would be waiting there, looking cool, as an old soldier who knows enough about life to choose his own battles. I gave him food and medicine and he gave me love and companion. Eventually his hair turn gray and his sight wasn´t as good as it used to be. He would still pick up a fight now and then with other dogs, but on those last days he just prefered to lay in the shadow. When the time came for him to go the Walhala across the rainbow, he came to me and put his head on my legs, gave a big sigh and stay there, with his look fixed on me, maybe saying thank you for all the years, saying goodbye to go and fight another battles where the stupidity of human kind could not reach him anymore.
A couple of years before, Negrita came into my life, a small thing that fit into my hand and who would stay with me for fifteen years. When young, she used to run after sheeps in my aunt´s woodshed, lambs crying at this little thing who would bark and bite as she was a big shepard dog. She would came and sit on my lap during my long music listening sessions and kissed me when some tears escape down my cheeks, eventough she didn´t like hugging. She also loved to play and she became my mother´s companion, helping me to keep an eye on her.
Not long ago, I discovered a lump on her belly. No cure they said. A couple of months at the most. And so, she and I had a talk, and she went to sleep in my arms, and stay there all night, and next day I carried her to the vet´s. I hold her tight and watched as she slowly went to sleep, her breathing and pulse becoming more and more slow until finally they stopped. Now she is waiting for me, guarding the part of myself that she took with her, my child years, my teen´s, the part of my concience that she never let me forget, that showed me the meaning of loyalty and responsability and a safe place where you could always go. And I miss her.
So does my mother.

Now someone new is my life. She can´t take Negrita´s place, not that she intends to, but she is working hard to have a place in my heart. She doesn´t need to, though. In the moment I saw her for the first time I knew that I was destined to have the precious gift, the honour, of having a new friend. She doesn´t belong to any breed, and she has a very silly tail, and she is sort of a crack baby, hyperactive crazy thing. She wakes me up early, and she loves to chew G´s underwear, but everytime I look into her eyes the world seems a little bit like a better place, and you can´t help to believe that everything is going to be allright. And that might be true.