This is one of many stories I have heard countless times from my padre.Quando I was little, I had seven or eight years, I followed my father already in his work in the fields one day, the furious barking of the dogs there warned of the presence of some wild animal, but as we look around us we could not see anything until one of the dogs slipped into a large patch of mastic, followed him and saw what at first glance might seem a little lamb, he was everything trembling at the deepest point of the spot, I walked slowly, tried to reassure him and took fuori.Era stroking a baby mouflon, a female (a wall). Perhaps his mother had been killed and it was very frightened and hungry, we brought her home and my mother invented to make it suck, a rudimentary bottles, was too small to eat alone. "BELLEDDA", so I called was my constant companion, following me wherever I went, and in the countryside, while I helped my father stood guard at the small "haversack" where I kept my dinner one night I came home and after a while I realized that "BELLEDDA" had not followed me, I called loudly, but had decided niente.Pensai to leave me and I cried for a long time and nothing earned him the assurances of my parents who said they were certain of his ritorno.L 'next morning, as usual but with a heavy heart, follow my father in the fields .... and my heart jumped throat with joy, "Belledda" slept curled up next to my "haversack" dimenticato.Sempre in his voice there was a note of emotion in remembering his old playmate and loyal.
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