Venancio Flies Low

By Graciela Montes


Ramiro Villalba


About the book:

Venancio, Mr. Fito’s beloved dog, is learning to fly. And this is amazing, but it’s causing some trouble in the neighborhood. This is a story for our little ones, depicting our everyday life through city habits and customs.

This new edition of a classic by internationally renowned author Graciela Montes is illustrated by O’kif. The successful careers of both the author and the illustrator contribute to making this book a big name in an award-winning collection that keeps the story as lively as ever and gets it into the hands of new readers.


Of course, dogs can fly. They just like to fly low. For example, there’s a doggy in my neighborhood who can fly; he’s called Venancio. Mr. Fito, who is a very patient man, taught him how to fly. Actually, he taught him how to jump first. This took him a long, long time.

“Up, Venancio!” Mr. Fito would say, lifting his finger. And Venancio jumped. He jumped higher and higher: from the floor to a chair, then from the floor to the table, and finally, from the floor to the top of the fridge.

Venancio enjoyed what he felt flying in the air. The feeling was so awesome that one morning he didn’t even wait for Mr. Fito to tell him, “Up, Venancio!” and he reached the roof in a single bound. He just wanted to see the sunset from up high!

Mr. Fito was really proud of Venancio. Mr. Fito thought Venancio was a very smart dog.

“I’m going to teach you how to fly,” he would say. “Up, Venancio!” said Mr. Fito, lifting his finger. And Venancio leaped to the roof in a single bound.

Then, when Venancio wasn’t watching, Mr. Fito would tiptoe to Mrs. Enriqueta’s, who lived across the street. He would climb to the rooftop and shout, “Venancio, over here!”

And Venancio would jump from Mr. Fito’s roof to Mrs. Enriqueta’s rooftop! It was a truly unbelievable jump.

The hardest part was teaching him how to swing around in the air. But remember, Mr. Fito is an extremely patient man.

“Up, Venancio!” he would say to lead the dog to the roof again. And right before Venancio stepped on the tiles… the man would suddenly shout, “Venancio, over here!”

So, Venancio, who had always been a good boy, would swing around in the air in a full spin. It was an incredibly difficult test. At first, Venancio would lose his balance and roll down the sidewalk like a flowerpot. But at some point, he learned how to land properly.

Mr. Fito’s pride grew every day.

“You’re about to learn to fly, Venancio!” he would say, patting him on the head. And Venancio replied “Arf, arf,” and wagged his tail.

One day, the dog was asked to fly to the butcher’s, two blocks from home.

“Up to Gorosito’s, Venancio!” Mr. Fito shouted (Gorosito is the butcher).

And Venancio flew all the way there! (Partly because he was a good boy, and partly because Gorosito always gave him some free bones.)

And this is how Venancio learned how to fly. In the beginning, everybody loved seeing the dog fly over the neighborhood. But soon everyone started to voice their complaints. Because, truth be told, Venancio didn’t fly like a butterfly. Nor like a little bird. Rather, he flew like a wild pillow. For starters, he was fat. On top of that, he flew very fast. And lastly, he liked to fly low. Being fat, fast, and a low‑flyer, he caused countless accidents. One day, while crossing the street, he ripped off a police officer’s helmet, so Mr. Fito was charged with a fine. On a Saturday evening, he crashed into Martinita Pérez’s head, right when Martinita Pérez was leaving home in her wedding gown and covered in flowers to get married to Tito Nicoletti. Another day he unintentionally flew through Professor Gutiérrez’s window, which was open, and fell on his meat pie. But nothing compares to the soccer incident. Venancio flew over the field right when a team was about to score, but the ball, instead of going right into the goal, ended up in the stands, and so did Venancio. Those who had missed the goal were furious, so they started kicking, shouting, and biting the ears of those who had been saved by the dog. And those who had been saved did their best to protect themselves.

“It’s not our fault,” they said, while covering their ears. “Blame the dog.”

Everyone in the neighborhood was angry at Venancio and Mr. Fito, his owner.

“Flying dogs are very annoying,” they would say. “They’re even worse than flies!”

And the kids would jump in the street and sing:

“No more flying! No more flying!”

These days, it’s not that easy to see Venancio fly over the neighborhood. But he’s still training. Every morning, Mr. Fito wakes up at the crack of dawn, and they go for a short flight by the seaside.

“You have to learn to go higher, Venancio,” he explains, but to no avail. Venancio likes to fly low.

“Arf, arf,” he says, while flying around and around Mr. Fito’s head.


Translated by Mariel Kozynski Waserman - Edited by María del Carmen Propato