Muffin (Muffin) [EN/ES]

The terrible winter was battering the farm, and the cold was merciless. The wind blew strongly, chilling everyone who went outside to the bone. Martina the cow looked at Muffin the cat and, with sad eyes, asked about the little mouse. “Muffin, Muffin, where is Pichin?”

The heroic cat ran to look for his best friend, a little mouse named Pichin. He didn't care about the snow or the cold. Muffin had to rescue his dear friend, no matter what. As he prepared to go out in search of Pichin, he remembered the fond moments he had spent with his great friend...

The day they met, the black and white cat was chasing the mouse. It had been a chase lasting several minutes that was tiring Pichin, and he felt that his day to say goodbye to the world had come.

When Pichin was resigned to his bad luck, he closed his eyes and waited for the worst. He closed his little black eyes and exhaled his last breath. At that moment, he heard howls of pain. Pichin opened his eyes and saw his rival lying on the ground.

“Wait, you have a big thorn in your paw, I'll take it out.” The little white mouse took the thorn that was tormenting Muffin and quickly removed it, while Muffin let out a long meow of pain.

“Thank you, little friend. Whoever helps me will be my best friend, forever.” Muffin twitched his whiskers and smiled warmly. “What's your name, little friend?”

“I'm Pichin. And you?” Pichin 's black eyes sparkled.

“From now on, you will have a guardian who will help you no matter what happens.” Muffin extended his front paw to seal the deal....

Muffin returned to reality and, remembering that situation, smiled and erased any trace of doubt about what he was going to do. Martina the cow opened the barn door, and a violent breeze foreshadowed what awaited poor Muffin.

“Good luck, Muffin. I hope you find Pichin.” Martina the cow shook her enormous head.

“Thanks for your good wishes, Martina.” Muffin twitched his whiskers.

The cat, determined to find his friend Pichin, ventured into the snow, which was 50 centimeters deep in some places and less in others. At times, the snow covered him, but Muffin had that feline ability that allowed him to easily get out of the snow. His black fur on his back had small snowflakes that gradually accumulated.

Muffin understood that he had to find Pichin quickly or they would both be in terrible danger in the cold. The agile cat kept searching everywhere, but there was no sign of the little mouse. His hopes were fading as time went by.

The cold was beginning to sap his strength, but Muffin didn't want to give up. He kept searching through the snow for his great friend.

“Pichin, Pichin, where are you?” Muffin's meow echoed across the field.

At that moment, the cat heard a noise in the distance. His keen ears did not fail him, and he ran toward the source of the noise. Snow began to fall heavily on the field. Muffin's instinct told him that he had to hurry before the big storm reached him.

Muffin ran at full speed until he reached his destination, a cherry tree. The squeak grew fainter, and the cat dug quickly until he reached Pichin. The little mouse was on the verge of hypothermia. Seeing this, Muffin gently picked him up in his mouth and began to run back to the barn.

There was no time to get there; the storm caught up with them. The snow was falling heavier and heavier, and poor Muffin was sinking deeper and deeper into the snow. Despite this, Muffin kept running, trying to reach the barn.

His legs kept moving through the snow, each step becoming more difficult to take. Muffin could barely breathe until he felt himself fainting. Sunk in the snow with Pichin, he thought that this was the end, but he was still satisfied that he had tried to save his great friend.

They were trapped in the snow, waiting for their end. Muffin could faintly hear his friend saying, “Thank you for coming to find me, Muffin.” The little mouse smiled.

“I didn't do anything, Pichin. We're trapped. The important thing is that we're together.” Muffin curled up with his paws around Pichin.

The cold invaded their bodies, and they were about to lose consciousness. Then they saw a light in the snow. Muffin opened one of his eyes and asked, “Are we dead?”

“Don't even think about it, Muffin.” Martina the cow was with several other animals.

They picked them up and took them to the barn to warm up. Hours passed, and little by little, the two friends recovered. Muffin opened his eyes and saw Pichin next to him. “Thank you, Muffin. You saved me.” The mouse grabbed him by the whiskers.

“Meow, meow, leave me alone, silly. And don't go out again, you naughty mouse. Haha.” Muffin cuddled the mouse with his paws. “By the way, how did they find us, Martina?”

“Pichin the rooster, you know how gossipy he is. He saw them fall into the deep snow through the window and warned us all, so we went out to look for them.”

“Right now, I'm grateful that Pichin is so gossipy. Haha.” Pichin made everyone laugh.

“I'm not gossipy, Kikiriki!”

The end

El terrible invierno azotaba la granja, y el frío caía sin misericordia. La brisa soplaba fuertemente, quemando los huesos de todos quienes salían al exterior. La vaca Martina veía a Muffin el gato y con sus ojos entristecidos, preguntaba por el ratoncito. «Muffin, Muffin, ¿Dónde está Pichín?».

El heroico gato corrió a buscar a su mejor amigo, un ratoncito, llamado Pichín. No le importó, la nieve ni el frío que estaba haciendo en ese momento. Muffin debía rescatar a su querido amigo, pase lo que pase. Mientras se preparaba para salir en busca de Pichín, recordaba los momentos entrañables que pasó con su gran amigo...

El día que se conocieron, el gato negro con blanco perseguía al ratón. Había sido una persecución de varios minutos que estaba cansando a Pichín y sentía que había llegado su día de despedirse del mundo.

Cuando Pichín estaba resignado a entregarse a su mala suerte, cerró los ojos y espero lo peor. Cerró sus pequeños ojos negros y exhaló su último aliento. En ese instante, escuchó unos aullidos de dolor. Pichín abrió los ojos y miró a su rival tirado.

«Espera, tienes una gran espina en tu pata, voy a sacarla». El pequeño ratón blanco tomaba la espina que atormentaba a Muffin y la sacó rápidamente, en tanto, Muffin soltaba un Miaw largo de dolor.

«Gracias, pequeño amigo. Aquel que me ayuda será mi mejor amigo, por siempre». Muffin movía los bigotes y mostraba una sonrisa amigable. «¿cómo te llamas, amiguito?».

«Soy Pichín. ¿Y tú?». Los ojos negros de Pichín brillaban.

«De ahora en adelante tendrás un guardian, que te ayudará no importa lo que pase». Muffin pasaba la pata delantera para sellar el trato.

... Muffin volvía a su realidad y recordando aquella situación, sonrió y borró cualquier vestigio de duda sobre lo que iba a hacer. La vaca Martina abrió la puerta del granero, y una brisa violenta hacía presagiar, lo que le esperaba al pobre Muffin.

«Mucha suerte, Muffin. Espero encuentres a Pichín». La vaca Martina sacudía su enorme cabeza.

«Gracias por tus buenos deseos, Martina». Muffin movía sus bigotes.

El gato decidido a encontrar a su amigo Pichín, se adentraba en la nieve que tenía un 50 centímetros de alto, en otras partes más y otras menos. La nieve por momentos lo cubría, pero Muffin tenía esa habilidad felina que los hacía salir fácilmente de la nieve, su pelaje negro en el lomo tenía pequeños copos de nieve que se iban acumulando poco a poco.

Muffin entendió que debía encontrar rápidamente a Pichín o ambos estarían en terrible peligro, frente al frío. El ágil gato seguía buscando por todos lados, pero no había señal del ratoncito. Sus esperanzas iban disminuyendo conforme iban pasando el tiempo.

El frío empezaba a mellar sus fuerzas, pero Muffin no quería darse por vencido, seguía surcando la nieve en busca de su gran amigo.

«Pichín, Pichín, ¿Dónde estás?». El maullido de Muffin recorría todo el campo.

En ese momento, el gato a lejos escuchó un ruido. Su gran oído no le fallaba y corrió hasta el origen del ruido. La nieve empezaba a caer pertinazmente sobre el campo. El instinto de Muffin le decía que debía apresurarse antes que la gran tormenta llegue hasta él.

Corría Muffin a toda velocidad hasta llegar al destino, un árbol de cerezo. El quiz, quiz se oía más débil, el gato escarbó rápidamente, hasta llegar a donde estaba Pichín. El pequeño ratón estaba a punto de sufrir hipotermia, al ver esto Muffin lo tomó suavemente en su boca y empezó a correr de regreso al granero.

No hubo tiempo para llegar, la tormenta los alcanzó. La nieve caía en mayor cantidad, el pobre Muffin se hundía cada vez más profundo en la nieve, a pesar de esto, Muffin seguía corriendo tratando de llegar hasta el granero.

Sus patas seguían moviéndose por entre la nieve, cada paso se hacía más difícil de dar. Muffin a duras penas podía respirar hasta que sintió desfallecer. Hundido en la nieve junto con Pichín, pensó que ese era su final, pero aun así estaba satisfecho por haber tratado de salvar a su gran amigo.

Ellos quedaron atrapados en la nieve, esperando su final, Muffin escuchaba débilmente a su amigo, «Gracias por venir a buscarme, Muffin». El ratoncito sonrió.

«No hice nada, Pichín. Quedamos atrapados. Lo importante es que estamos juntos». Muffin acurrucaba con sus patas a Pichín.

El frío invadía sus cuerpos, y ellos estaban a punto de perder la conciencia. Luego una luz vieron entre la nieve. Muffin abrió uno de sus ojos y preguntó, «¿Estamos muertos?».

«Ni lo pienses, Muffin». La vaca Martina estaba con varios animales.

Los tomaron para luego llevarlos al granero a que recuperen el calor. Pasaban las horas y poco a poco los dos amigos se iban recuperando. Muffin abrió los ojos y vio a Pichín junto a él. «Gracias, Muffin. Me has salvado». El ratón lo tomaba de los bigotes.

«Miaw, miaw, déjame tonto. Y no vuelvas a salir, ratón travieso. Jaja». Muffin acurrucaba al ratón con sus patas. «Por cierto, como nos encontraron, Martina».

«El gallo Chupín, ya sabes lo chismoso que es. Los vio por la ventana caer en lo profundo de la nieve y nos advirtió a todos, así que salimos en su búsqueda».

«En este momento agradezco que Chupín sea tan chismoso. Jaja». Pichín hacía reír a todos.

«No soy chismoso, ¡Kikiriki!».

Fin

We leave you the participation of Rincón Poético in 'A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words.' You are cordially invited to participate in this interesting contest, the link is provided below

Post