Fátima Reyes, Grade 12
UWC Costa Rica
Growing up, I always thought it a beautiful sight. A little kid throwing dry corn at the sky, a flock of pigeons descending gracefully from the skies, the bells of a local church orchestrating the scene. Although my Protestant background didn’t allow me to visit the Catholic churches at which this sort of painting-like show took place, I always delighted at it as a simple bypasser.
One day, however, not long after my ninth birthday, my childhood wishes came true. A beautiful May morning, my mom answered my heart’s craving and took me to a small Catholic church. She bought me a small bag of dry corn and showed me how it ought to be done. “You take a little out of the bag, and delicately sprinkle it into the sky,” she said while demonstrating the movement. It was a majestical thing to witness, and I couldn’t contain my excitement at getting a chance to be part of this harmony. The next I know, whoever, I am running from an angry flock of urban pigeons, desperate to get their sharp claws on my bag of corn.
I don’t recall how it happened; all I know is how miserable I felt while and after the shameful event. My mom enjoys to this day telling the story of how her cowardly daughter ran away from pigeons, while she yelled at me to drop the corn, and everyone at the plaza laughed at my misery. That day, at barely nine years old, I decided to forever despise animals.
And I did, for many years. Unlike any normal kid, I didn’t like to pet dogs at the park, hated cats' arrogance, and often purposefully missed field trips to the zoo. Then, one day, while I am away from my country at school, I get a message. My mom sends me a picture of my brother holding the cutest puppy I have ever seen. I ask her whose it is, and get the answer I never thought her capable of. “It is ours”, she says. My mom, probably the only person who tries to get as far as possible from animals as I do, has adopted a dog! To live, poop, eat, and grow in our own house! To say that I was shocked at the revelation would be an understatement. Not only had they replaced me, but they had replaced me with a four-legged, hairy animal.
Many months went by until I got to finally meet Cosmo. By the time of my first encounter with him, he had stopped being a puppy. He was quite a big and stray-looking dog. While I was away, I had forbidden him to even enter my room, a rule I was not planning to abolish once I got back. I avoided as much interaction with him as possible, and only interacting with him on his walk to the park, an opportunity I took to hang out with my father and get some fresh air above anything else.
However, as time passed, and Cosmo became one of only three living things I interacted with, I started to grow some sympathy towards him. He was now welcomed in my room, fed on occasion by me. Even at times, if his behavior has been acceptable enough, he was allowed to take a nap in my bed. The canine, as I affectionately call him, slowly made its way into my pigeon-traumatized heart. With his happy wagging of the tail, his puppy head resting on my legs, his excitement at a simple treat, Cosmo broke my shield and made me fall in love.
Cosmo now spends more time with me than with any other house member, and I pay him back the same way. We are the first ones we each see in the mornings when I open him the door, we go together out to play catch, we fight over a pillow he’s not supposed to eat, he chases pigeons even without knowing how much I still dislike them. I spoil him more than I should. I guess I am just that kind of aunt.
Cosmo has taught me what true, unconditional love looks like. He has changed how I interact with the living world around me and opened my eyes and heart to a whole new realm of relationships. He is, perhaps, the best friend I have and will ever have. His excitement for every little thing and person we take for granted reminds me to be thankful for what I have and enjoy it as much as possible. His careless attitude for the world and ease with everything reminds me to not take life too seriously.
In a few weeks, I will leave again and may not see Cosmo for several months. Nonetheless, I will always remember to live like canine. To simply live.
One day, however, not long after my ninth birthday, my childhood wishes came true. A beautiful May morning, my mom answered my heart’s craving and took me to a small Catholic church. She bought me a small bag of dry corn and showed me how it ought to be done. “You take a little out of the bag, and delicately sprinkle it into the sky,” she said while demonstrating the movement. It was a majestical thing to witness, and I couldn’t contain my excitement at getting a chance to be part of this harmony. The next I know, whoever, I am running from an angry flock of urban pigeons, desperate to get their sharp claws on my bag of corn.
I don’t recall how it happened; all I know is how miserable I felt while and after the shameful event. My mom enjoys to this day telling the story of how her cowardly daughter ran away from pigeons, while she yelled at me to drop the corn, and everyone at the plaza laughed at my misery. That day, at barely nine years old, I decided to forever despise animals.
And I did, for many years. Unlike any normal kid, I didn’t like to pet dogs at the park, hated cats' arrogance, and often purposefully missed field trips to the zoo. Then, one day, while I am away from my country at school, I get a message. My mom sends me a picture of my brother holding the cutest puppy I have ever seen. I ask her whose it is, and get the answer I never thought her capable of. “It is ours”, she says. My mom, probably the only person who tries to get as far as possible from animals as I do, has adopted a dog! To live, poop, eat, and grow in our own house! To say that I was shocked at the revelation would be an understatement. Not only had they replaced me, but they had replaced me with a four-legged, hairy animal.
Many months went by until I got to finally meet Cosmo. By the time of my first encounter with him, he had stopped being a puppy. He was quite a big and stray-looking dog. While I was away, I had forbidden him to even enter my room, a rule I was not planning to abolish once I got back. I avoided as much interaction with him as possible, and only interacting with him on his walk to the park, an opportunity I took to hang out with my father and get some fresh air above anything else.
However, as time passed, and Cosmo became one of only three living things I interacted with, I started to grow some sympathy towards him. He was now welcomed in my room, fed on occasion by me. Even at times, if his behavior has been acceptable enough, he was allowed to take a nap in my bed. The canine, as I affectionately call him, slowly made its way into my pigeon-traumatized heart. With his happy wagging of the tail, his puppy head resting on my legs, his excitement at a simple treat, Cosmo broke my shield and made me fall in love.
Cosmo now spends more time with me than with any other house member, and I pay him back the same way. We are the first ones we each see in the mornings when I open him the door, we go together out to play catch, we fight over a pillow he’s not supposed to eat, he chases pigeons even without knowing how much I still dislike them. I spoil him more than I should. I guess I am just that kind of aunt.
Cosmo has taught me what true, unconditional love looks like. He has changed how I interact with the living world around me and opened my eyes and heart to a whole new realm of relationships. He is, perhaps, the best friend I have and will ever have. His excitement for every little thing and person we take for granted reminds me to be thankful for what I have and enjoy it as much as possible. His careless attitude for the world and ease with everything reminds me to not take life too seriously.
In a few weeks, I will leave again and may not see Cosmo for several months. Nonetheless, I will always remember to live like canine. To simply live.
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