The night before had been one of those that test anyone’s patience and endurance.
The rain was falling with an intensity that can only be described as the universal deluge version 2.0. The drops were hitting the MasTorrencito roof tiles with fury, filtering here and there, forming small improvised waterfalls in the house.
Of course, Mamas, with her doggy radar for detecting weather chaos, decided it was the perfect time for an existential crisis. She kept crying, whimpering, rolling over as if the end of the world was just around the corner. Between the thunder and her complaints, sleep was utopia.
When dawn finally broke, with my eyes like two raisins wrinkled from lack of sleep, I went down to the kitchen in the hope of a refreshing coffee… but I found the surprise of the day: DROPS. Buckets here, rags there, mop in hand, and an impromptu concert of «drops on metal surfaces» in C minor. So that it didn’t sound like I had installed a percussion orchestra in the living room, I had to place towels over the buckets to muffle the sound. Because yes, when everything is silent, the «ploc-ploc» of the drops is capable of driving you crazy.
And right in the middle of this water war scenario, they arrived.
A German couple, one of those travelers that just by looking at them you know they have traveled half the world and are still looking for something they don’t know what it is. She, with clear eyes and an easy smile, he, tall, with a calm air but an expression that said he was analyzing every detail around him.
They walked in, looked at the house, but instead of being amazed by the beauty of the farmhouse, they remained transfixed on the place. They didn’t blink, they didn’t speak. They just stared…
To Mr. Markos.
«Oh my God… oh my God…» repeated the woman with a trembling voice.
They looked at each other, then back to D. Markos, holding their hands to their mouths as if they had just seen a miracle or a ghost.
I, who with my years in Mas Torrencito had already seen everything, watched the scene with interest. Something was happening here, something beyond the normal.
The man took out his cell phone with trembling hands, searched through his photos, and when he found what he wanted, he showed us the screen.
Therein lay the reason for his astonishment.
A dog identical to D. Markos. But identical.
Same color, same posture, same elegant bearing, and the most incredible thing… the same limp.
In the photo, that German dog had exactly the same little bow on his paw as D. Markos. As if they were clones. As if they were the same soul in two different bodies.
The woman could not take it anymore. She put her hands to her face and burst into tears.
«It’s impossible…» he whispered.
But the impossible sometimes finds its place in Mas Torrencito.
They took a deep breath, tried to calm down, but still couldn’t believe it. They went up to the room we had assigned them, and then something even stranger happened.
D. Markos, who was a dog with a «I do what I want and when I want» personality, followed them.
Not in that casual way, like when a dog is curious about a guest. No. He went upstairs with them, entered the room and lay down at their feet as if it were his own.
And that’s where it stayed.
He did not move an inch. Neither when they brought the suitcases, nor when they settled in, nor when the woman, with tears in her eyes, caressed him tenderly.
Two full days.
D. Markos did not leave their side at any time.
She accompanied them to breakfast, walked with them in the garden, lay under their table when they ate, followed them if they went for a walk… And at night, instead of staying in her usual corner, she slept in their room.
I had never done that with any guest before. Never.
The woman kept looking at him with a mixture of love and sadness. She caressed him as if she didn’t want to lose him again.
The day of his departure was a moment no one expected.
She bent down, hugged D. Markos and whispered something in his ear. He, far from pulling away as he usually did with long hugs, stood still, eyes narrowed. As if he understood every word. As if he was also saying goodbye to someone very important.
They left, but the connection did not end there.
Every Christmas, every New Year, every birthday of the farmhouse, they send us a WhatsApp to congratulate us.
They could only come back one more time. And when they did, exactly the same thing happened.
D. Markos was again their shadow. He did not separate from them. As if no time had passed. As if, in fact, time did not exist for true bonds.
But time does pass.
And when Mr. Markos left us, I knew I had to let them know.
I sent them a message to tell them.
Her response came instantly:
«It’s very hard news. It’s like we have to bury our dog a second time.»
Sometimes, MasTorrencito is not just a rural house. Sometimes, it is a place where destiny decides to close stories that were left open.
And D. Markos… wherever he is, I am sure he is still walking by your side. 💛🐶✨
Reflection:
Life gives us encounters that seem casual, but that actually hide something much deeper. What were the chances that this couple found in Mas Torrencito the exact reflection of their lost dog? What mysterious connection made D. Markos feel so attached to them? There are stories that defy logic, that force us to accept that love, even the love we share with our dogs, transcends time and space. Perhaps, in some corner of the universe, the bonds we create are never completely broken, they just find new ways to manifest themselves. But Torrencito is not only a refuge for travelers, it is a meeting point for souls that, in one way or another, were destined to cross paths. Because true love, even doggy love, does not understand definitive farewells.
From MasTorrencito we wish you a good day and may your dogs be with you!!!!
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