Huahua

Her name was Huahua. A mixed breed, a little like a Pekingese, with no papers and no pedigree — just a whole heart.

她叫花花。串种，有点像京巴，没有血统证书——但有一颗完整的心。

A car hit her when she was young. Her spine was damaged. She lost all feeling in her back legs. But she didn't lose herself.

她年轻时被车撞了。脊椎受损，后腿失去了知觉。但她没有失去自己。

She still tried to run. She dragged herself across the yard just to follow me. When her skin tore open from the ground, I built her a small wheelchair with my own hands. She used it proudly.

她还是想跑。她拖着身体穿过院子，只为跟着我。当地面磨破了她的皮肤，我亲手给她做了一辆小轮椅。她骄傲地用着它。

And then, in one quiet moment, she went still. A butterfly. Moving through the flowers. She watched it the way she used to before the accident. And then something shifted in her eyes. She turned away from the butterfly. She walked slowly to where I was sitting and leaned against my leg. Just leaned there. Quietly.

然后，在一个安静的瞬间，她停住了。一只蝴蝶，穿过花丛飞过。她看蝴蝶的眼神，像受伤前一样。然后她眼中有什么东西变了。她转身离开蝴蝶，慢慢走到我身边，靠在我的腿上。就那样靠着。安静地。

I picked her up. Twelve minutes later, she was gone. Still in my arms. Warm.

我抱起了她。十二分钟后，她走了。还在我怀里。还是温的。

I buried her under a tree behind my house, on a hill where the sun reaches every morning. Wild flowers grow there that I cannot name. It is very beautiful.

我把她埋在屋后的树下，一个每天早晨都有阳光的山坡上。那里长着我叫不出名字的野花。很美。

"I know she crawled into my arms on purpose. She chose where she wanted to go. And I was holding her."

我知道，她是故意爬进我怀里的。她选择了她想去的地方。而我，抱着她。