Yesterday the family pet died. She was a beautiful dog, with no pedigri, neither class.

One day she arrived home, knocked down by a car, skinny, weak, young, almost a cub. At the beggining my fathew didn't want her, my mother tryed to give her away to the dog pound, but Sara Montoya convinced to my parents to keep her, only for a few weeks, until miss Montoya find a home to the dog. Finally, she got a home in our house.

Orejas was her name, because the naistiest part of her body was her ears. She resembled a German Shepherd, a dwarf german shepherd, with big and hairy ears.

She was a graceful dog: when my mother brought her food, she used to look her with big and thankful eyes. Every piece of food was eaten carefully by Ore, if a small piece felt apart from her bowl, she stopped eating and looked for the piece until she finds it and swallowed it, and then returned to the bowl. Be a homeless dog teachs you be a grateful dog.

She loved to hike. Being younger, when my parent pronounced the word "vamos", Ore started to jump and complain until my father opened the fence and start to walk aside her.

Once she got impregnated, having 10 cubs! All of them were given away by my mother.

Yesterday she laid down in the morning and never wake up. I want to die as she did.