After the call, and without thinking that you won't be here tomorrow:

I bathe you, hoping that the warm water will mitigate fears, attachments and you enjoy it without thinking that you won't be here tomorrow.

I take you for a walk in the parking lot that witnessed your encounters, growth, stumbles because of the years and, although the walk now was from my arms, I do it without thinking that you won't be here tomorrow.

I put you to bed in our frequented place to enjoy the vehement sunbath together, without thinking that you won't be here tomorrow.

I insist on eating, as usual, guided by my fears and responsibilities, because I'm not thinking that you won't be here tomorrow.

I regret not being able to buy those forbidden sweets that you like liked so much, so that I could see you happy without thinking that you won't be here tomorrow.

And I see you resting, recovering the hours of late nights for the fear of silence, but the distrust makes me think that maybe you won't be here tomorrow.

I love you so much, and I say it with tears that proliferate the sorrows of the neglected grass because I know you won't be here tomorrow.

«Preparations when the inevitable comes» was written on November 24, 2022, one day before my 16-year-old dog, Huesito, died.

Huesito came into my life when I was 6 years old. He was always a dog with lots of energy, health and love to give us. But over the years his health began to deteriorate. To the point where he couldn't eat or walk by himself.

There were many sleepless days because like us, he was afraid of loneliness. And we were afraid of losing him.

Finally we had the money and decided to leave our ego behind and let him go, after several days of convulsions and loss of appetite. We called the vet and agreed to put him to sleep the next day. But it wasn't necessary.

Huesito understood that we were ready to let him go, and that same day he slept peacefully, I took him for a walk as usual and he said goodbye to us. At dawn he asked me to hold him for the last time, he vomited what little he had left inside and in my arms I felt how his soul left his body. And so I said goodbye to 16 years of the purest love I could have experienced.

Today, two years later, I still remember him and his death still pains me. But I take comfort in knowing that where he is, he is free of pain.