I found her this morning.  La Perra was lying besides one of the creek's pillars under San Jacinto.  I don't think she had been dead too long  because her body was not very cold. The men at the Picnic tienda where I fed her last Sunday across the street tell me that she's been going down for a month.  I know that she starved to death, and that is the worst death of all. Last Sunday I wanted to take her to the dog shelter here in San Anto, but they're closed on Sunday. I have two dogs in my tiny yard, and I was afraid to keep her with me.  On Monday I had to deal with my 91 year-old father's pre-funeral wishes in Raymondville, four hours away, and I was afraid to delay his wishes.  La Perra ate a little barbacoa on Sunday morning and I left food with the men, who promised to feed her.  I looked for her on Monday night, Tuesday, Wednesday, all week.  She must have been alive, just waiting to die.  I should have pressed Juanillo the homeless...