Brielle took her dog to the park at seven. She went every morning. The dog was a brown dog named Pickle. He was small, fast, and very silly.
布里埃尔七点钟带她的狗去公园。她每天早上都去。那是一只棕色的狗，名叫皮克尔。它个子小，跑得快，还特别爱闹。
The park had a green fence. It also had a long bench. On the bench sat a man with a sketchbook. He was there every day. He drew the dogs. He did not talk to anyone.
公园有一道绿色的围栏，还有一条长椅。长椅上坐着一个拿速写本的男人。他每天都在那儿。他画狗。他不跟任何人说话。
Brielle watched him for two weeks. He drew a big white dog. He drew a dog with one ear. He drew a tiny dog in a red coat. His pencil moved fast.
布里埃尔观察了他两个星期。他画过一只大白狗，画过一只只有一只耳朵的狗，还画过一只穿红色小外套的小小狗。他的铅笔动得很快。
"Is he drawing me?" Brielle thought. "No. He draws the dogs."
“他是在画我吗？”布里埃尔想，“不会的。他画的是狗。”
On Monday, Pickle ran to the bench. He jumped up. He put his nose on the man's bag. Brielle ran after him.
星期一，皮克尔跑向长椅。它跳了上去，把鼻子凑到男人的包上。布里埃尔追了过去。
"I am so sorry," she said. "Pickle, no!"
“真不好意思，”她说，“皮克尔，不行！”
The man laughed. "It is fine," he said. "He smells my sandwich."
男人笑了。“没关系，”他说，“它是闻到了我的三明治。”
"He smells everything," said Brielle. "I am Brielle."
“它什么都闻，”布里埃尔说，“我叫布里埃尔。”
"I am Cedric."
“我是塞德里克。”
Pickle sat down on Cedric's shoe. He looked up with big eyes. Cedric gave him a small piece of bread. Brielle said, "Please do not do that. He will want it every day."
皮克尔坐在塞德里克的鞋上。它睁着大眼睛抬头看着他。塞德里克给了它一小块面包。布里埃尔说：“请别这样。它以后天天都会想要的。”
"Then he will come every day," Cedric said.
“那它就天天来吧。”塞德里克说。
Brielle felt her face get warm. She looked at the sketchbook on the bench. "May I see your drawings?"
布里埃尔觉得脸在发烫。她看向长椅上的速写本。“我可以看看你的画吗？”
"Yes," said Cedric. He gave her the book.
“可以，”塞德里克说，把本子递给了她。
She turned the pages slowly. There were many dogs. Every dog had a different face. Some looked happy. Some looked tired. One looked angry about a ball.
她慢慢地翻着。里面有很多狗。每只狗的脸都不一样。有的看起来很开心，有的看起来很累，有一只看起来在为一个球生气。
On the last page, there was a small brown dog. He had a long nose and one ear up. He ran across the grass.
最后一页上，有一只棕色的小狗。它鼻子长长的，一只耳朵竖着，正跑过草地。
"That is Pickle!" Brielle said.
“那是皮克尔！”布里埃尔说。
"Yes," said Cedric. "He is my favorite. He runs like a small horse."
“对，”塞德里克说，“它是我最喜欢的。它跑起来像一匹小马。”
"You draw him every day?"
“你每天都画它吗？”
"Not every day," Cedric said. "Only the days he runs."
“不是每天，”塞德里克说，“只在它跑的那些天。”
Brielle laughed. "He runs every day."
布里埃尔笑了。“它天天都跑。”
Cedric went red. He looked at his hands. "I know," he said.
塞德里克脸红了。他低头看着自己的手。“我知道。”他说。
For a moment, nobody spoke. The wind moved the leaves. Pickle snored on the shoe.
有一会儿，谁也没说话。风吹动着树叶。皮克尔在鞋上打着呼噜。
"I want to ask something," Cedric said. "Can I draw you too? Only your hand with the leash. People are hard for me."
“我想问你件事，”塞德里克说，“我也能画你吗？只画你握着牵引绳的手。人对我来说太难画了。”
"My hand?"
“我的手？”
"Yes. Hands are easier."
“对。手比较容易。”
Brielle sat on the bench. She held the leash out. Cedric drew for ten minutes. She did not move. Pickle slept. The sun came over the fence.
布里埃尔在长椅上坐下，把牵引绳伸了出去。塞德里克画了十分钟。她一动不动。皮克尔睡着了。太阳越过围栏升了起来。
Then Cedric turned the book. The drawing showed a hand and a leash. A small dog sat at the end. The dog looked up at the hand with love.
然后塞德里克把本子转了过来。画上是一只手和一根牵引绳。绳子的另一头坐着一只小狗。小狗满怀爱意地抬头望着那只手。
"It is very good," Brielle said. "Can I keep it?"
“画得真好，”布里埃尔说，“我能留着吗？”
Cedric tore the page out carefully. He wrote something in the corner. Then he gave it to her.
塞德里克小心地把那一页撕了下来。他在角落里写了点什么，然后递给了她。
She read the words. They said, "Saturday, seven o'clock. Bring Pickle. Bring your face too."
她读着那些字。上面写着：“星期六，七点。带上皮克尔。你也一起来。”
Brielle looked up. Cedric looked at the grass.
布里埃尔抬起头。塞德里克看着草地。
"I will bring both," she said.
“两个我都会带来的。”她说。
She put the page in her bag. Pickle woke up and shook his ears. Then he pulled her toward the gate. She waved at Cedric the whole way.
她把那一页放进包里。皮克尔醒了，甩了甩耳朵。然后它拉着她往大门走去。她一路上都在向塞德里克挥手。
