The Dog Who Loved Tortillas. Benjamin Alire Saenz

      

      ne Saturday morning, Little

      Diego’s big sister Gabriela

      looked out her window and saw a

      man singing to himself as he walked

      his dog. People who had dogs were

      always happy. They smiled more than

      regular people. She wondered what it

      would be like to have her own dog. A

      girl dog, that’s what she wanted. A girl

      puppy that would be all hers.

      Just about the same time Gabriela

      was thinking about a girl dog, Little Diego

      was playing catch at Memorial Park with

      his friend, Manny. As they were throwing

      the baseball back and forth, Diego noticed

      that a dog was sitting there watching them.

      “Do you think he bites?” Little

      Diego asked.

      “I don’t know,” Manny said.

      “Some dogs are mean.” Manny

      stuck his hands out like they were

      claws. “GRRRRRRR,” he said.

      “GRRRRRRR,” Little Diego said. He

      looked at the dog, so calm and peaceful.

      He didn’t look mean, not mean at all.

      n sábado por la mañana, la hermana

      mayor de Dieguito, Gabriela, vio por

      la ventana a un hombre que cantaba a la vez

      que caminaba con su perro. “Las personas que

      tienen perros siempre están felices. Sonríen

      más que los demás”. Se preguntó cómo sería

      tener su propio perro. Quería una perrita. Una

      cachorrita que fuera completamente suya.

      Casi al mismo tiempo que Gabriela

      pensaba en una perrita, Dieguito estaba

      jugando pelota en el Memorial Park con su

      amigo Manny. Mientras lanzaban la pelota

      de béisbol de un lugar a otro, Diego se dio

      cuenta que un perro los observaba.

      —¿Crees que muerda? —preguntó

      Dieguito.

      —No sé —dijo Manny—. Algunos

      perros son malos.

      Manny mostró sus manos como si

      fueran garras. —GRRRRRRR —dijo.

      —GRRRRRRR —dijo Dieguito.

      Miró que el perro parecía tranquilo y

      en paz. No parecía malo, nada malo.

      Just then, a woman walked up to the

      dog and put a leash on him. “He got away

      from me. I hope he didn’t scare you.”

      “No,” Little Diego said. “What’s his

      name?”

      “Pinto,” the lady said. “He’s very

      gentle.”

      “Can we pet him?” Little Diego asked.

      “Sure,” the woman said.

      Little Diego petted the dog, then

      reached over and hugged him. The dog

      licked Little Diego right in the face and

      made him laugh. He wished Pinto was

      his. But he knew the lady would never

      give him away. When you loved a dog,

      you didn’t give him away, because a dog

      wasn’t like a toy or a glove or a baseball

      bat. And then, all of a sudden, an idea

      came into his head.

      “I have to go,” Little Diego said.

      “I have to go home, now.”

      Justo en ese momento, una mujer se

      acercó al perro y le puso un collar. —Se me

      escapó, espero que no los haya asustado.

      —No —dijo Dieguito—. ¿Cómo se llama?

      —Pinto —dijo la señora—. Es muy

      mancito.

      —¿Podemos acariciarlo? —preguntó

      Dieguito.

      —Claro —dijo la mujer.

      Dieguito acarició al perro, y después lo

      abrazó. El perro le lamió la cara y lo hizo reír.

      Dieguito deseó que Pinto fuera suyo. Pero

      sabía que la señora jamás se lo regalaría.

      Cuando quieres a un perro no lo regalas,

      porque un perro no es como un juguete o un

      guante o un bate de béisbol. Y así de repente

      se le ocurrió algo.

      —Me tengo que ir —dijo Dieguito—.

      Ya me tengo que ir a la casa.

      4

      Little Diego ran into the kitchen where

      his mother and father were drinking coffee

      and eating marranitos. “I want a dog!” Diego

      yelled.

      Gabriela heard him shouting all the way

      from her room. She ran into the kitchen and

      yelled. “No fair! I want a dog, too!”

      “You’re a girl. Girls shouldn’t have dogs.”

      “Dad,” Gabriela said. “I want a dog!

      Diego gets everything he wants. Remember

      the time he wanted a Superman suit? He

      threw it in the trash.”

      “It was supposed to make me fly,” Diego

      whispered. “And, anyway, I took it out of the

      trash.”

      Diego hated to be reminded of that

      Superman suit. “Dad, I want a dog.”

      “No, Dad, it’s me who should get a dog,”

      Gabriela said.

      Dieguito