Rosa stood at the edge of the dusty road and gazed off into the distance. The unforgiving South Texas sun baked the landscape and buildings, and brought out beads of perspiration on Rosa’s arms and forehead. She had no idea why she continued waiting by the road each afternoon, Jimmy wasn’t coming home. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. The slender, young woman turned to see Pablito, a young pitbull, standing in her shadow. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, and brushed back her long, dark hair.

“Come on cachorrito,” she said to the dog, “it’s too hot today, let’s go in the house.”

Rosa had given Jimmy the dog for his birthday about a year and a half earlier; she noticed how much he had always admired pitbulls that belonged to his friends. Whenever he saw people walking them on the street, he would remark that he was “gonna get me one of those dogs.” Rosa smiled briefly as she remembered the expression of utter delight on Jimmy’s face when she had plopped the fat, gold-and-black brindled puppy into his lap. It was Jimmy’s twenty-first birthday, and his friend Pablo had stopped over with a couple of six-packs to help him celebrate. Pablo offered beers to Jimmy and Rosa, and spotted the pup in Jimmy’s lap.

“Hey, you guys got a puppy! What kind is it?”
“It’s a pitbull. I’m gonna train him to bite you if you come here when I’m not around!,” Jimmy joked.
“Aww, I wouldn’t do that, Jimmy. Rosa’s all yours, and she don’t even like me! That reminds me, when you guys gonna get married anyway?”
“Next year… maybe June, we’re thinking.”
“Cool. You could name a kid after me, maybe.”
Jimmy grinned. “I think I’m gonna name the dog after you instead, Pablo.”
“Hey that’s OK, too. He’s gonna be a tough guy like me, and not one of those wimpy li’l Taco Bell dogs!”
“Ohh, he won’t be too tough,” Rosa chimed in. “And he ain’t gonna bite nobody. We’re gonna raise him gentle…..”

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