The lake on Dogavios was smooth as a mirror. It had trees in it, clouds in it, and even stars, when it was night. Everyone loved the lake. Everyone except Pigúiça.
“Come on, Pigúiça!” shouted Bolota, who was already in the water, her long ears floating like two little boats. “It feels wonderful!” “I'm fine right here,” answered Pigúiça. Right here was three steps from the edge.
She was brave about tall rocks, giant puddles, and weird beetles. But that lake was so big! And out in the middle, the water turned dark, and she couldn't see what was underneath. Just thinking about it tied her tummy in a little knot.
Fofuxo came over and sat at the edge, without saying a word about swimming. “I'll stay here a bit,” he said. “The sun feels nice.” Pigúiça sat next to him. They both looked at the water, and there they were too, side by side: a blue-eyed husky and a golden retriever, all golden.
“Want to just wet one paw?” asked Fofuxo. “Just one?” “Just one. If you don't like it, you take it out.”
Pigúiça stretched out her front paw and touched the water. Ripples spread from the spot, opening circles, and her reflection shivered as if it were laughing. It was cool. It wasn't bad. It was even kind of interesting. “It's cool,” she said, surprised.
Then, two paws. Then all four, there in the shallows, where the water barely covered her toes. Bolota stayed nearby, floating slowly, in no hurry and without pulling anyone.
“The water holds you up,” said Bolota. “If you let your body go light, it lifts you. Want to see?” And she rolled onto her back, tummy up, looking at the sky like someone looking at the ceiling of a very pretty room.
“I'll stay here, where I can touch the bottom,” said Fofuxo. “I'll hold you from underneath, just a little.” Pigúiça took a deep breath. Once. Twice. And she let go of the ground.
The water held her up, soft, like a bed that rocks. She moved her little paws, and Fofuxo slowly let go. “I'm floating!” she shouted. “Fofuxo, look! I'm floating!”
She didn't go very far. Just as far as Pigúiça wanted, about three paddles, to the shade of the tree. But it was enough for her to come back to the edge with a dripping nose and a smile that went from one ear to the other.
At the end of the afternoon, the three of them lay on the grass, drying in the sun, while the lake turned pink with the sky. The lake no longer seemed too big. It seemed like a calm friend who had waited until she was ready.
At night, lying in her bed, Pigúiça could still feel the water's sway, slowly, up and down, like a cradle. She closed her eyes and pictured the smooth lake, with a star inside, and herself floating there, light, light, light.
And she slept like that, rocking, without any fear at all.
