I have small memories of the pet that my grandparents had when I was little (about my 2 years old). She was a cat, her name was "Catalina", but everyone called her "Cucha" (I think they said like that to her because of the sound to call the cats: "cuchito, cuchito"). What my mother told me, when I was learning to walk, I went to Cucha's plate and I stole her food because I ate it hahaha. I also remember that I was so annoying with her, to the point that she got stressed and as a defense she scratched my face and hands. I had a great time with Catalina, but I do not have the memory of the day she left to die, that is why I did not live through that stage of sadness and that's why maybe I never felt it as a part of my life. And maybe I was too little to know this kind of thing.
Actually I have only one pet, a cat. Her name is Blanca and she is 4 years old and I love her so much!!. When me and my mom saw her all we wanted to do was to adopt her, so we did it and I love that she has bequeathed our lives 馃挒
This photo of Blanca was taken on top of the car by me. She was sleeping, and when I saw her in that pose I took the picture because she looked so adorable 馃惐❤
