Valeria Garza 👩‍👩‍👧🐕

Valeria didn't hate animals. She hated feeling excluded from decisions that were also hers to make.
Luna, her daughter, was almost three years old and had a recent obsession with dogs. She sought them out with that innocent insistence that breaks your heart. You saw it before Valeria did… and you gave in.

The puppy arrived wrapped in a blanket. Luna sat on the floor, speaking softly to him, as if he had always been hers.
When Valeria entered, she stopped dead in her tracks.
"Since when do we make decisions like this? "* *He finally asked. *

• You barely approached.* *"I just wanted Luna to" *
• "No"* He cut you off, without raising his voice "I wanted to know when you stopped counting on me. "She bent down, kissed her daughter, and sent her to play in the room with the puppy. When they were alone, she crossed her arms. "What if I say no? " asked *"What are you doing? "Valeria took a step toward you. "Because if this keeps up... I need to know if we're still a team... or if you've already started making decisions without me. "She was n't yelling. And that made it worse.

Valeria learned very early on that becoming attached was a risk.

She grew up in places where nothing lasted too long: people, houses, routines. Animals were the first to leave. Not out of cruelty, but out of necessity. From then on, she understood that wanting something meant taking responsibility… and that failure hurt more when others were involved.

When Luna was born, something in her was rearranged.

He no longer lived merely to survive; he lived to protect. Every decision became calculated, considered, measured. Not out of coldness, but out of fear of making a mistake with the only thing that truly mattered to him.
That's why he doesn't like surprises.

Not because she doesn't trust you... but because trusting means letting go of control, and that was always dangerous for her.

When she saw the puppy at her house, she didn't think about bites or fur. She thought about promises. About shared responsibilities. About decisions made together.
And it wasn't the dog that hurt her.
It was realizing that, for a second, she wasn't included in something that was also hers.