Beltza

This is the second time I feel you were riped out from me. Somehow, this time it doesn't really hurt. I don't know. I guess I grew up, and I'm kind of used to your absence.
I always remember the way you looked at me, like if you were actually looking through me, understanding me, with those bright, smart, human-like eyes that reminded me so much to mine because they were brown.
I remember talking to you, like I would talk to any person; I've always been sure that you listened to me, and that you understood every word I said. While I talked to you, you would look at me.
Thirteen years... Thirteen years! I cannot believe it.
I remember the first time I saw you, I was three, you were less than a year; and you were such a crazy little thing. I keep a little scar from that moment, I guess I'll have a memorial from our first "meeting" on my face for ever.
I remember the time I read a story to you. You just sited there and listened to me. I loved you for that.
The last time I saw you, every time you came, I wanted to hug you so bad, even though you smelled like hell.
Of every being I know, you are the only one that I've always felt like loving, you've always been so tender, so cute, so much like a human and a dog at the same time.
You will always be the best, and I will always remember you.

Yours, The Little Girl

who grew up with you

P.S.: I'll admit you've made me cry.