When I was eight, I went to a party in Brazil with my parents's friend. I noticed a moving object under the table while we were eating. It was the cutest and skinniest puppy I had ever seen. I was hesitant to pick it up, for it might have had fleas or ticks. My parents's friend said the puppy had been abandoned at their doorstep that day in a shoe box. The poor thing! I couldn't help but caress it, comfort it...
I slowly reached down and picked it up. It didn't move at all. I held it in my arms until the party was over. I almost cried while holding her. Yes, we realized it was a her. I grew a love for her that I will never forget. I don't even know why. It was just a dog, I thought. With the owners's help, I named her Perdida. It means the lost one.
Now, Perdida is a full-grown dog with five pups. She lives happily with her husband and kids in Brazil. I wonder if she still remembers me...
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