Milo's Journey

Chapter 12

Milo looked down at the sleeping puppy still nestled in his arms. At that moment, Juan de Dios returned. Milo felt his familiar presence.

“Well, is this little one someone’s lost puppy?” Milo said out loud.

“As far as I can tell, Caballito, no one has lost a dog. It is a little strange.”

Milo looked down at the little dog. “Where did you come from, Piyelito?”
Hearing Milo’s voice, the puppy took the opportunity to raise his head and lick Milo’s cheek.

“Rfrff,” the little dog yapped, looking at Milo.

Milo laughed. “I guess Jose is in luck. It looks like you belong to him.”

Piyelito simply looked at Milo with his great big brown eyes, then settled down again in Milo’s arms.

“Well, come inside. I will introduce you to Mama,” Milo said, opening the screen door and entering the house. “Mama, I have someone I want you to meet.”

Milo’s mother came out of the kitchen and looked down at the puppy resting in Milo’s arms.

“Ay, qué bonito, Milo. Where did he come from?” Natalia said as she looked at the ball of fur.

“Jose found him in the barn, in Cachita’s stall. He had made himself comfortable on her hay, and she was licking him like he was a newborn calf,” Milo said, putting the puppy down and walking into the kitchen.

“Jose and Piyelito fell in love at first sight. I asked El Negro Juanito to check the nearby farms, but no one has lost a dog. So I guess Piyelito is Jose’s.”

Milo walked over to the sink and got the puppy a small bowl of water. He placed it on the floor and waited.

Piyelito walked over to the bowl, looked at it, then looked at Milo.

“Yes, Piyelito. The water is for you.”

The little dog bent his head and began to drink.

“He is very intelligent, Milo. It is as if he really understands you. Piyelito—how did he get that name?” Natalia asked.

“Jose chose it. He said it just came to him,” Milo replied, getting a Malta out of the fridge.

“Hmmm,” Natalia said thoughtfully. “You know, the Taíno believed that the god of the dead had a demigod companion whose name was Opiyelguabiran. He was portrayed as a dog.”

“I didn’t know that, Piyelito,” Milo said, looking at the little dog.

Natalia moved back to the sink, washing her hands so she could continue preparing dinner.

“I was going to make arroz con pollo for dinner. I guess I will add another chicken to the pot for the baby,” she said, smiling.

The rest of the day went by as usual. Milo fed the animals and settled them for the night. Piyelito followed him everywhere, even helping to corral the chickens. The little dog was a bundle of helpful energy, working with an intelligence that left Milo speechless.

As the sun set, Milo looked down at the little dog.

“I think it’s time for dinner, and you definitely earned your meal tonight, little one.”

Piyelito barked and ran toward the house.

“Okay, you go ahead. I’ll catch up,” Milo laughed.

Piyelito stopped, ran back, and walked calmly beside Milo until they reached the house.

“How are my two hungry boys?” Natalia asked, placing plates on the table. She brought a small dish of rice and cut-up chicken and set it on the floor.

Piyelito looked up at her, barked once, and began to eat.

“You are welcome, Piyelito,” Natalia said, laughing.

Milo ate in silence, devouring his meal.

“Wow, mijo, you must have been hungry,” Natalia teased.

Piyelito lay by Milo’s chair, his belly round and full.

“Yes, Mama. You know how much I love your rice with chicken.”

Piyelito barked and wagged his tail.

“See? He likes it too,” Milo said.

Natalia could only laugh.

After dinner, Milo cleaned up and then went to his room to finish homework. Piyelito followed and hopped onto the foot of the bed.

“Okay, just for tonight. Tomorrow I’ll make you a proper bed.”

Piyelito thumped his tail and closed his eyes.

Later, Milo opened the window to let in the night air, ruffled Piyelito’s fur, and went to sleep.

Jose said good night to his parents and lay in bed thinking of Milo and Piyelito.

“Good night, Milo. Good night, Piyelito. I love you both,” he whispered.

Piyelito raised his head and tilted it, as if he were hearing something far off. He let out a small bark and thumped his tail a couple of times before lying back down and closing his eyes.

Jose tossed and turned in his sleep. No matter where he turned, he couldn’t get away from the shadows that followed him.

Milo will leave you just like Santiago. You aren’t worth it.

The shadows grew longer, and no matter how much he tried to run, they were still right behind him.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of lively music, but he couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. It seemed to calm him, and the shadows retreated a little. His mind cleared enough for him to think.

It is the music for the pasodoble, a famous gypsy dance.

He thought of the intricate steps of the dance, playing them over in his mind. The shadows retreated a little further.

But suddenly, they gained strength again.

Your gypsies cannot save you from us. You are not strong enough to fight us. Give in, Jose. No one will love you. You will be alone.

Jose was barely holding on when he thought of the little puppy he had found and how much he loved Piyelito—and how he knew Piyelito loved him.

“Piyelito,” Jose whispered, the name like a prayer.

Suddenly, the little dog was in the room. Jose, still locked in his nightmare, was unaware that Piyelito stood at the foot of his bed. The puppy jumped up and stood there as the room filled with light. The small dog began to grow. His black and gray coat caught fire, and a collar of human skulls hung around the now gigantic Rottweiler wreathed in flame.

The dog looked back over his shoulder at the Gypsy Prince and Campanita de Plata, who stood protectively over Jose at the head of the bed. The boy had calmed, bathed in the glow of the flames radiating from the towering Piyelito.

Piyelito turned back to the shadows reaching out of the darkened corners of the room toward the bed. He growled, the sound like thunder, and the shadows retreated, quickly disappearing into the darkness.

Piyelito turned and was once more just a puppy.

Jose’s two gypsy protectors bowed their heads in respect to the little dog before fading away.

Piyelito walked over to Jose and licked his face once.

“Thank you, Piyelito. I love you,” Jose murmured in his sleep.

The little dog hopped down from the bed, and with one last look back at the boy he had chosen, trotted off into the darkness.

Piyelito spun around a couple of times on the foot of Milo’s bed, and once he had found a comfortable spot, he lay back down.