"Buenos días Señor Red Dog," I said. "Anoche soñé que éramos pájaros, y que volamos con alas por la música. Cada vez que oímos los violines y cellos, volamos por nubes de colores distintos... ""Buenos días Señor Red Dog," I said. "Anoche soñé que éramos pájaros, y que volamos con alas por la música. Cada vez que oímos los violines y cellos, volamos por nubes de colores distintos... "
Red Dog's eyes sparkled with what at other times I would have considered to be understanding. My trick was working...
"Y, ¿es que me entiendes, aunque sé por cierto que nunca has oido ninguna palabra de español en toda tu vida?" I asked with a mocking laugh.
Thinking I had said, "Let's take our morning walk," Red Dog led toward the gravel road, glancing at me over his shoulder.
But... Red Dog was not catching on to what I was doing. I began feeling ashamed for tricking him.
"And I even use a language I learned when every day I lived my life without you, Red Dog," I said in English. "I thought it would be funny to see what you did if today I spoke nothing but Spanish. But now I feel as if I've betrayed you... "
Hearing the remorse in my voice, for the first time Red Dog sensed that I was saying something different from what I always say. He came and stood close by me, for this was his way of comforting me.
I hugged the big red dog, and then we walked on the gravel road.