Old and alone, I thought that a dog would fill my existence.
I found him street, dirty, hungry, I caressed him, he followed me without fear.
Now he is my dog, I am the owner of him.
I talk to him, he answers me by washing my hands.
“Fido tomorrow we won’t have anything to eat, retirement is over, we’ll have to wait!”.
That blessed day arrives, in line, with the other retirees, the libretto shattered by time, tight in my hands, I wait my turn. Fido shakes happily.
He knows that today we will eat more and a little better.
It’s already winter. My house is cold without fire. He is close and warms me. The beginning of spring finds us united thanking the sun, while from my heart, a prayer is born: ′′ Thank you Lord for creating the dog “.
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