My name is Pixy. I am two years old. I live in a rock den with my mother and father. Our den is near a river. Every morning when I wake up I walk out of our den to smell the fresh spring air. Then I go and look for something good to eat. After I eat my breakfast I go and see my best friend foxy. We either go to the forest or river to play. We play all day until it's time for our evening meal. Then we run home very fast in time to eat our meal. When I get home my food is ready for me on the table, which is the middle part of our den. Before I go to eat my mother tells me to wash my hands and face. Then I run to the little ditch in our den and wash up. After washing up I go to the table to start eating. But just before I start eating my mother tells me that we have to say our prayers. We pray, then I start to eat. After everyone is done eating we all wash up and get ready for bed. My father goes to bed first, then my mother tucks me in bed at the back of the room.

The next morning when I woke up and went outside, my mother and father were already up. I ate my breakfast, and when I was done my mother asked me if I wanted to go for a walk in the woods. I said, yes, but could Foxy come along? Mother said, yes, but only if it was okay with her parents. So I ran down to her house and asked Foxy and her mother. Both of them said it was okay, and Foxy and I ran back to my mother and father. We walked far into the woods, and on our way we met many friends that lived in the woods. There were five different families that we saw. After we talked to them we said our good nights and left for home. When we got to our den I asked my mother and father if I could walk Foxy home. Both of them said yes, and when we got half-way to Foxy's house we said our good nights and headed on our different ways home. When I got home my mother told me to wash up and get ready for bed.

The next morning when I woke up my mother was already up. Then she told me that my father was killed by a hunter. Boy was I shocked to hear that! After his death I hated the people that killed my father. But life had to go on anyway, and even though it was harder to live, my mother and I lived our lives like it was before my father died. My father always remained in our hearts though. Nothing could take my father away from my heart, or even my mother's.

Palassa Sergie