Lisa Perez

Kringle

In the wild and dangerous streets of Tijuana, a small puppy was born. He was brindle, mostly brown and had short hair and dark, happy eyes. The little boy was happy and played in the sun with the other street dogs there. Although being a street dog in Mexico wasn’t easy by any account, the little boy found bits of food to eat and felt happy to be alive and play with his other pup friends as they ran and ran and ran and sometimes wrestled or played tug of war. He loved laying in the sun and closing his eyes. He thought nothing else could feel so nice. Occasionally, a kind human would stop to share a morsel with the tiny pup and offer a few pets, something the boy loved more than anything. The unfortunate reality, though, was that evil people exist in the world. Some of them didn’t care about his life at all, and the poor pup learned this the hard way one night as the shadows were beginning to descend on the streets.