Gods made mortals in their own image, and they paid them back in kind
“This is a story that I seldom share,” commented Angelica, “and on the rare occasions I have done so, I have never included my own particular interpretation of the facts…”
Intrigued, Pilar, immediately asked what she was referring to.
“You see, my dear Pilar, the thing is that I could understand what the dog what saying, or perhaps, communicating. Besides, that dog of such a strange way of barking, so particular in its style, is the same dog that we have heard today.”
“But! My dear Angelica, that cannot be. With all due respect, my dearest mother-in-law, however, just consider that if effectively that is the same dog that you heard when you were five-years old… Well, I’d say that too many years have gone by since then. It would have to be an extraordinarily long-lived animal, at that. As far as I recall, dogs just don’t live so many years.”
“And you would be so perfectly right, Felipe. As a rule, dogs live, perhaps, for fifteen years. I suppose, fifteen years can be quite too much for some of the breeds. So, in effect, I admit that more that fifteen years have gone by since then.” Laughing, she went on saying, “But, I rather believe it’s a matter of discretion and perhaps a bit of delicacy, to never indulge into asking a woman, how many years, these would amount to. Wouldn’t you agree?”
With that light joke, Pilar’s grandmother seemed to dissipate the gloom that had caught them all in its thrall. It would appear that the sun was shining once more… in Bogota’s blue skies.
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