Dia for María Ratona was a cat named Mouse. She was small and gray, and had a tiny squeaky meow. She liked to sit in a hole in the shed wall. Ratona lived for a long time. Eight months ago, she died. I'm not sad anymore, but I think about her often. One day, Mamá was setting up Tía Teresa's ofrenda, a special altar, for Day of the Dead. Teresa passed away when I was a baby. "Mamá, can we celebrate pets?" I asked. "This is mostly for family, though I suppose Ratona was part of ours," Mamá said. "We can celebrate her the day before," I suggested. Later, Mamá and I went to the market in Puebla. We got paper banners, sugar skulls, and marigolds. On October 31, my friends came over. Adriana brought her dog, Sal. or Salt. She had a photo of Sal's sister, Pimienta, or Pepper, who died last summer. Gloria had a picture of Raúl the rooster, a pet she had lost. We set up the banners, marigolds. and photos where Ratona used to sit. "Once, Pimienta stole a pound of cheese from our cooler. She got into the trash and ate it later! I have cheese for Pimienta," Adriana said. "My mother makes pumpkin seeds for my great-grandfather's ofrenda. Raúl jumped up and ate them! My mother was so mad. I brought some for Raúl," Gloria said. "If someone had ice cream, Ratona went Squeak! Squeak! until you let her lick the bowl. I have ice cream for Ratona," I said. I gave Adriana and Gloria sugar skulls before they left. I thought about funny little Ratona. On the last day of celebrations, my family walked to the graveyard. Everyone from the area came. There were fireworks and even a band. Tía Teresa's gravestone was piled with flowers, sweet bread, and candles. Mamá smiled to herself. "One day, María, your Tía Teresa heard a tiny squeak coming from the grass. It was a little gray kitten. Teresa named her Ratona," Mamá said. She continued, "When Teresa died, I took Ratona. You loved her right away. You reminded me of Teresa." Everyone was laughing and dancing. I was too young to remember Tía Teresa, but we had both loved Ratona. That made me happy. Mamá took my hand. "I think it's time to dance!" she said.