I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of “a wolf in sheep’s clothing”, but what I would never imagine is that someone would accuse Maky of such a thing. When Maky ate a flock by MasTorrencito
Maky, the calmest dog in the world, almost a furry philosopher… Maky, the tamest of all mastines in the area!
But there I was, in front of a shepherd with a face like a Greek tragedy, swearing and perjuring that Maky had killed his entire flock. “Sir, I swear on my life, your dog killed two sheep,” he said in a serious tone. And what a shock I got! Because, of course, the first time something like that happens, you don’t know whether to believe it or not. So, to avoid problems, I decided to pay. After all, 40 or 50 euros are not enough to ruin anyone, and the last thing I wanted was to get into trouble with the shepherds of the village.
Although, to be honest, something didn’t add up…. I mean, if I had been told that the culprit was Mastitwo, Mamas or even Mastiff, well, maybe I would have believed it, but Maky! For God’s sake, Maky doesn’t even kill a fly! Well, unless he goes with his cousins from Zumosol, then he gets brave… but alone, never. I doubted it very much.
Well, the other day, another call from the shepherd. This time with more drama:
-Your dog killed two of my sheep this afternoon!
I froze. Maky? My Maky? The same dog that was frightened by his own reflection in the water and ran for cover if a cat hissed at him. It couldn’t be. I thought Casimiro was wrong, but his tone brooked no doubt.
-Are you sure it was him? -I asked, feeling my disbelief begin to waver.
-Of course I’m sure! -he replied, with a determination that almost convinced me that my poor Maky was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
I sighed, trying to calm the water before it overflowed.
-Look, come home. If it’s really Maky, I’ll pay you on the spot. But you have to be sure, okay?
Don Casimiro agreed, and in less than half an hour, he arrived at the door of my house. His silhouette was silhouetted against the dusk like that of a dueling sheriff. He wore his usual wide-brimmed hat and carried a wooden cane that looked like a scepter of authority. I opened the door for him, greeted him with a nervous smile, and told him to wait while I took the dogs out into the yard.
-Let’s clear this up once and for all,” I said, with more confidence than I really felt.
When I opened the back door, my four dogs shot out. They were a squadron of barking and unbridled energy. Maky was in the lead, wagging his tail like there was no tomorrow. As soon as they saw the shepherd, something happened that I had never witnessed before: all four of them lunged at him, barking as if they wanted to eat him. My wife and I started screaming like crazy.
-Maky! Mastitwo! Freeze! -I shouted, but it was useless.
The dogs seemed possessed, and for an instant, I feared the worst. Casimiro, however, did not flinch. In the midst of the chaos, he raised a hand, made a simple, emphatic gesture, and as if by magic, the dogs stopped. They stopped! Not only that: they sat, silent, like obedient pupils awaiting instructions.
-What… how…? -I stammered, unable to comprehend what had just happened.
The shepherd smiled with an air of mystery, as if he had just performed a trick he had no intention of explaining. As I tried to close my mouth, which was still open in amazement, he pointed to the dogs.
-Let’s see who the culprit is,” he said, approaching them.
He inspected each one with hawk-like eyes, and finally stopped in front of Maky.
-It looks like the one I saw, but this one is smaller. And, well… fatter.
I laughed nervously.
-Well, it’s the only one I have. There are no others.
The shepherd frowned and scratched his chin.
-Last year something similar happened to me. A dog like this one killed a sheep. But now that I have a good look at it, it can’t be the same one.
Suddenly, he pulled a 50-euro bill out of his pocket and held it out to me.
-This is what you paid me last year for a sheep. And seeing as it wasn’t your dog, it’s not fair to charge you.
I tried to pay him back.
-No, no, keep that. Buy another sheep. I’m going to find out who the culprit might be.
The pastor nodded, but before he left, I couldn’t contain my curiosity.
-Don Casimiro, one more thing. How did you manage to calm them down like that?
He turned, smiling with that expression of ancestral wisdom that only old shepherds have.
-Respect, authority, and above all, that they know who is in charge. If you are afraid of them, they notice it.
Those words stuck in my mind. From that day on, Maky regained his reputation, but the question of whether he could have ever eaten a flock was left hanging in the air. After all, in this town, every dog has a little bit of wolf in him…or at least that’s what we say when we want a story to be funny.
And so the mystery remained: Who was really to blame? No one knows, but every time Maky crosses paths with a neighbor, there is always someone who looks at him with a raised eyebrow, as if expecting to see him howling at the moon. Unfair? Maybe. Funny? Undoubtedly.
From MasTorrencito we wish you a good day and may your dogs be with you!!!!
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