Here I leave the sad story that is behind many dangerous breed dogs excited ... hope you like my Gabriel will be happy .... morning in his new rainbow where there will color her life. I just hope the owner of this dog, not worth your life, and hopefully have some accident where their lives are shattered and I is back in this world.
I wanted this afternoon sad to be alone with you. We do not know anything, we have never seen, but on this day, I feel I have to sit in front of you. And it has to be this afternoon for tomorrow .... you will not be.
going to sacrifice your life, not to mention the fact that, you're crying. It was dusk, the horizon has turned red, like the trickle of blood that falls from your mouth. And is that just looking at you is scary. You need a little eye and I can not help but think of your suffering when you tore it in one of many fights illegal where you have seen involved and where, and
much against your will, for sure, sadists have forced you to participate, fight, fight, fight, kill .... A fierce struggle, death pact, bite here and there, tears, your skin torn and tattered
, and you, poor souls, fighting to death, blindly obeying the gods, demons disguised idolatry.
I can not even imagine that moment, not all those who preceded them in your long and gloomy life. I think you have 13 or 14 years. Many, too many days of sorrow.
You had to be for your torturers around a "champion." Big and beautiful "issue" has been and still you are. Corpulent
"wide head," as bloodthirsty rogue prefer. Now you show me old, sick and finishing .... through the bars of Chenil.
I stare, the poor darling is you, well, impassive, static, tired, and paralyzed by a life that has treated you so unfairly.
Occasionally, I have to look away. Impose a mob while you wake up very compassionate, very sorry. Have made you an unhappy ....
Sitting in front of you, fall afternoon, sad but beautiful stained with blood, but crossed by a white line on your horizon. You and I know that that line is tomorrow. Is hope your days so that your suffering has finally, before you expect, is that nothing can be done laboriously by your miserable existence.
Viejo, resigned, hurt, suspicious .... do well not to trust a longer anyone because nobody gave you anything, except hitting, beating and screaming. And I did not want or know your name, the name of the murderer with whom you have called out and beaten. Today I have called Gabriel, just between you and I, as the fallen angel who now are.
And I keep looking, something curious, so intently ... and I know what you're thinking.
not hard to imagine that everything you are indifferent, they're not going to believe that going to happen to you something good, that nobody at this point will give you a poor stroke. And do not expect anything for nothing and I know that tomorrow, when they come to sleep forever, not even attempted to escape the death friend. Look, you oléis that distance .... And you can understand, such as being intelligent and you are evicted, it will be the only act of love that the human race has committed cruel you in your very long and bloody life.
Spend the afternoon and you and I continue watching, alone in the kennel. Other dogs are quietly respecting perhaps farewell when we are wrapping this evening, your last evening ... And I think back to all damage you have been violated, embedded and hardening your heart, cheered for matases other miscreants, who have mistreated you endlessly and finally, when you can not even with your soul in tatters, just your days in a kennel and never go out alone, so alone and sick ...
And I look at last, grieving and broken, and I call you in an affectionate tone of voice with the trickle that is me, this afternoon you die, but you are unable to move a muscle in your body exhausted. There is no language in the form of joy in your tail, or in your ears mutilated. I rise and follow with your eyes, you put a mattress in a corner. All I can give you. Is my desire, to spend the last night of your dreary existence, acomodadito. Spent your bones isolated from cold soil. Your last look
I appreciate it. I would have done much more for you, but as so often, I have not arrived on time. Hopefully before you leave, you might understand. With slow steps, you go to him, and finally, you're asleep. I wish this dream last night with the Rainbow in the soon will be. Sleep fallen angel. Rest once, and tomorrow, when you wake, a brief moment, is to glimpse the color palette that invites you to leave the dark world in which you put and, finally, sales forever.
night has come. The red horizon was hidden, but there remains a white, fluffy, floating in the sky bleak: your last hope.
Nuria Martin.
APAP "THE LAIR" Puente Genil
going to sacrifice your life, not to mention the fact that, you're crying. It was dusk, the horizon has turned red, like the trickle of blood that falls from your mouth. And is that just looking at you is scary. You need a little eye and I can not help but think of your suffering when you tore it in one of many fights illegal where you have seen involved and where, and
much against your will, for sure, sadists have forced you to participate, fight, fight, fight, kill .... A fierce struggle, death pact, bite here and there, tears, your skin torn and tattered
, and you, poor souls, fighting to death, blindly obeying the gods, demons disguised idolatry.
I can not even imagine that moment, not all those who preceded them in your long and gloomy life. I think you have 13 or 14 years. Many, too many days of sorrow.
You had to be for your torturers around a "champion." Big and beautiful "issue" has been and still you are. Corpulent
"wide head," as bloodthirsty rogue prefer. Now you show me old, sick and finishing .... through the bars of Chenil.
I stare, the poor darling is you, well, impassive, static, tired, and paralyzed by a life that has treated you so unfairly.
Occasionally, I have to look away. Impose a mob while you wake up very compassionate, very sorry. Have made you an unhappy ....
Sitting in front of you, fall afternoon, sad but beautiful stained with blood, but crossed by a white line on your horizon. You and I know that that line is tomorrow. Is hope your days so that your suffering has finally, before you expect, is that nothing can be done laboriously by your miserable existence.
Viejo, resigned, hurt, suspicious .... do well not to trust a longer anyone because nobody gave you anything, except hitting, beating and screaming. And I did not want or know your name, the name of the murderer with whom you have called out and beaten. Today I have called Gabriel, just between you and I, as the fallen angel who now are.
And I keep looking, something curious, so intently ... and I know what you're thinking.
not hard to imagine that everything you are indifferent, they're not going to believe that going to happen to you something good, that nobody at this point will give you a poor stroke. And do not expect anything for nothing and I know that tomorrow, when they come to sleep forever, not even attempted to escape the death friend. Look, you oléis that distance .... And you can understand, such as being intelligent and you are evicted, it will be the only act of love that the human race has committed cruel you in your very long and bloody life.
Spend the afternoon and you and I continue watching, alone in the kennel. Other dogs are quietly respecting perhaps farewell when we are wrapping this evening, your last evening ... And I think back to all damage you have been violated, embedded and hardening your heart, cheered for matases other miscreants, who have mistreated you endlessly and finally, when you can not even with your soul in tatters, just your days in a kennel and never go out alone, so alone and sick ...
And I look at last, grieving and broken, and I call you in an affectionate tone of voice with the trickle that is me, this afternoon you die, but you are unable to move a muscle in your body exhausted. There is no language in the form of joy in your tail, or in your ears mutilated. I rise and follow with your eyes, you put a mattress in a corner. All I can give you. Is my desire, to spend the last night of your dreary existence, acomodadito. Spent your bones isolated from cold soil. Your last look
I appreciate it. I would have done much more for you, but as so often, I have not arrived on time. Hopefully before you leave, you might understand. With slow steps, you go to him, and finally, you're asleep. I wish this dream last night with the Rainbow in the soon will be. Sleep fallen angel. Rest once, and tomorrow, when you wake, a brief moment, is to glimpse the color palette that invites you to leave the dark world in which you put and, finally, sales forever.
night has come. The red horizon was hidden, but there remains a white, fluffy, floating in the sky bleak: your last hope.
Nuria Martin.
APAP "THE LAIR" Puente Genil
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