Boreby is a guarani word which refers to the tapir (also called anta). It seems beautiful and more enigmatic than their equivalents in the Spanish language. I heard from very early associated to the River, fires or reddish sunset, and trajine with the intention of using it as they should at some point. Neither suspected that the occasion would be in a house under construction in the city of La Paz where coexist Pinky, a lasye of good hair and impeccable behaviour, and Wolf, a grandfather picked up from the street that after a few years regained their weight and returned to rely on their peers. So, Pinky is usually stand half a dozen puppies that go to houses of neighbors or unknown groupers, in quality of gifts. Between the penultimate level of offspring became one quite often and that was delayed more than necessary in open your eyes and look at the world. Took that, by pure instinct, preliminary affection or love at first sight. You were all, less of him, who was frolicking under the name of Boreby, son of Pinky and adoptive grandson of Wolf.
His hair is less fine than that of his mother, but the same brown color that contrasts with the shiny black of his grandfather. Months later, Boreby left crying and left also of meddling in the Affairs of her mother, except title comrade minor, jovial and quarrelsome during the day and ear alert at night. Although at the beginning his relationship with Wolf was marked by the Insolence of his age, he soon began to lavish the respect the elderly deserve. And thus Boreby, edipillo looming, won independence, because something warned him that should urinate as older man, since he was four-legged on the threshold of the adults. When after midnight pass trampling shadows and voices, Pinky is sleeping soundly, and Wolf is considered chicato and deaf without remedy, therefore, pays no attention to these fugitives beings.
The only elevation in arms is Boreby that instead of barking, as he did in his hours of beginner, sharpens the ears and decrypts with the look and smell the mysterious transit and the no less mysterious voices. One can sleep, but Boreby still ensuring and probably merced to his profession as a guardian had learned to recognize all the figures that descend and walk up the street: the cripples, graduates in economics, drunkards, the politicians, the newcomers from distant regions, the bankers, the afflicted and physics students, unmistakable even for a dog named Boreby. The next day, Boreby is the first to lap around the yard, with renewed vigour and clumsiness, unfit a Pinky or a Wolf, for education in the first, and for experience in the second. In the case of Boreby prevails, before all, an inhospitable world, aftertaste of other ages and other deserts, without being so indifferent to the affection showing you the owners of the building under construction. Pushes him, thus the memory of their species, and stopped the civilized world, where biting is not a crime, provided that the individual teether is not the dog. Konrad Lorenz, an eminence in the ethology, had considered Boreby a typical copy of the wild dog that vacillates between their instincts and intelligence that should accrue to not startle it or ROAR among men. I guess that is why Boreby plays during the day and is, also, a melancholic nocherniego, because for him the voices of shadows and wind are not trivialities, but the wrapper fatal mystery which others call future.