Growing up in the suburbs had its perks, but for the most part it was an individualistic environment. For me, my small neighborhood wasn’t anything like the ones that you see on TV. No friendly next-door neighbors brought us casserole for moving in, there were no children in my age group for miles, and for the most part the only people to keep me company were my siblings. My parents were never ridiculously strict, but they had one rule that they would never change their minds about; no dogs. Growing up there was nothing I wanted more than a dog. Dogs are the perfect childhood companion, they’re only tired when you are, they love to play outside, and because they can’t speak they make the perfect companion to listen to all of your problems. My parents both had three dogs each while they were growing up, and they stuck to their rule because they knew how much effort it took to take care of one. Upset over the fact that I would never know what it would be like to own a dog, I went back to my old boring routine; until one day, he appeared. The “he” in question was a small hound with black, white, and brown colored fur; a beagle to be exact. A medium sized dog with a collar in the shape of a bone which read “Jango” and the address of his owner. In most cases, in the event that a mysterious dog was to appear in your backyard my first reaction would be to stay away from it, but for some reason I was drawn to him. After showing my two siblings we decided to take him in as our own.
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In 2008, I spent the summer with my Uncle, Aunt and 2 cousins in Missouri. They picked me up at the airport, and the car ride was filled with discussion about a puppy they had just gotten 2 days prior. It was explained that my cousins wanted a dog since their friends’ family had gotten a dog recently. My Uncle, happy to oblige, stopped at a neighbor’s house one day, who was giving away puppies they could not care for, as is common in small town America. He picked out the cutest one and went on his way. The family was so happy to have “Roxy” in their home and on their farm.
Everyone must have had a pet before, even if it was as small as a fish or as big as an elephant. We’ve all had that one pet, that we will forever remember. The loving relationship between a dog and a person is so unexplainable but very special in its own way. I’ve had a dog when I was born and it would always be there from my first time to talk to being with me my sophomore year. I had a Chinese Shar-Pei, whose name was Kane. He was the most precious pet to me and not one other pet can replace his 1,000 rolls or the two different colored eyes. Everyone thought he was ugly but he’s beautiful to me. The relationship we had was unique. In this relationship it contained us both knowing what we thought and getting in trouble together. The loving
I looked at my dog and made eye contact with his large brown eyes. Time seemed to slow down as I read his eyes like an open book. I still remember the look today, while I was laying on the couch next to him. It was the most terrifying sight I’ve ever seen. My dog, my best friend, and the only thing to trust me with everything calmly could show that he had accepted death. For me though he was still could wagging his tail for us. The night I saw this was October 22nd at 8:02 PM. This dog changed my entire perspective on life. He was a dog that could instantly make a room bloom as a flower would, but with joy. He loved life and those around him and that caused us to love him so much.
My first dog was named Toby, he was a very white, ball of fluff. He blended in with the shiny white crispy snow on December 25, 2006. My sisters and I were on our way home from my dad’s house when all of a sudden we pulled into my mom’s house. On Sunday, December 25, 2006, Toby was waiting at our house. We all got out of the car on that cold snowy day and walked on the slippery sidewalk. The snow was like a chilling carpet on the bottoms of our feet. My mom opened the door with a camera so my sisters and I knew something was up. A shocking step in the house and we saw a very fluffy dog, we were very excited. He was like a deer in headlights. There was a bunch of screaming and yelling going on at that moment between the three of us. We
As a little kid I had always feared dogs. Actually, I guess you could say I was scared to death of them. I never knew why, but the moment I spotted one of those little, fluffy demons, I was running for my life.
Dogs are considered man’s best friend and an important part of the family I even own a dog myself. I’ve had mine for almost seven years, and while I do care greatly for his health, and happiness I’ve grown sick of his complete disregard of commands, constant whining, and an unwarrantable need for attention. Not to mention the fact that this dog is constantly rolling around in the filthy grass getting all kinds of germs on him. My beloved dog has also cost me hundreds of dollars to simply raise him into the healthy and happy dog he is now. I have grown sick of caring for him and I will no longer the tyranny from my own dog.
It was our first Christmas married we lived in a decent size house no kids just me and you also our dog biscuit. We are laying on the couch cuddling being sweet then I get up to get something to drink and you being you smack my butt and I cry out in pain and continued my walk as I’m fixing my drink the dog comes up and starts humping my leg right when you started walking in and then you say “But you want let me do that” and I said, “catch me and you can hit it all night”. I ran and you started to chase me all through of house when I reached the master bed room you tackled me on the bed and flipped me over and hoovered over me and just stared me in my eyes and started to kiss passionately. You slowly pulled away and we sat up slowly then we took my top off then yours. We started another heated make out session. You took your hand and traveled my body then shoved it in my shorts and found out I wasn’t wearing panties also found out I was dripping wet. I moaned softly which made you go deeper inside of me making me moan louder. You pulled your finger out and then stuck two in and was going slow for about a minute then speed up and I started to lose my breath so I flipped us over and I was on top. I got off top and slid my shorts and unbuckled your pants and slid them off and then slid your underwear down, I then grabbed your dick and did circles around you tip with my tongue I then took all of you in my mouth causing you to sit up and garb me by my hair making me go up and down
Think about something that can’t be lived without. The first thought coming to mind may be food, water or shelter, but for others that unlivable material could be an object. It could be a phone, a favorite shirt, a toy or any other assortment of items. Now imagine how that item can influence a life and decide if it does produce a long term impact in people’s thoughts and actions. A narrow mirror hanging on a wall or a pair of shoes on one's feet may appear trivial, but any item can have a story behind it and generate a lifelong impact. Can an object actually shape who someone is? Any object can influence someone’s life, no matter what it may be. I’m confident this is true since at one year of age, I acquired an item that helped craft who I am today and without it, my attitude and values would be drastically different.
The whole event might have only lasted 30 seconds, but I swear time was stopped. Every afternoon, I run my dogs on the golf cart around the neighborhood. When I first started this tradition, it was because of my dog Milo. Milo has extreme amounts of energy, that requires a full-speed 2-mile golf cart run. One afternoon I began to run my dog Shylow who is not particularly a fast runner; unlike Milo who can run faster than the golf cart at full speed. It was going well until I drove past the house with the two Great Danes; these Great Danes were the true opposite of friendly; they were vicious.
Beep!… Beep!… Beep! The alarm clock roars in my face awakening me from my short slumber. “Already! I just closed my eyes and it’s already time for school!” I grunted. I slid out of bed and into my clothes. I can hear my younger brother, Dylan, rustling upstairs doing the same as me. This was one of those mornings where I would do just about anything to close my eyes and catch some shut eye. The man was I tired! As I began drinking my hot chocolate, I decided to get some fresh April air so I took my dog out. It was a quiet day… unusually quiet. Not too many cars passing, birds chirping quietly, and school was coming to an end. Ah yes, school is almost over, so I can finally sleep in for however long I want. The school makes the thought of eternal rest sound appealing. “James, take the dog outside!” yelled my mother. Little did she know I was already out and about doing my morning chores feeding the dog, boiling water, and making my lunch. I noticed that my dog was glued to the front door of my house; barking nonstop. “Hmm strange,” I thought, she barks a lot but this was unusual because nobody was in sight. It was a peculiar Monday, but I brushed off these strange events and continued on with my boring day.
Sitting on the midnight black piano bench, I heard my friend Samantha’s dog panting behind me. I wait to turn around to pet the dog for I was having too much fun with Samantha banging on the piano keys while her parents were in the kitchen cooking spaghetti for dinner. I turn around finally having enough of banging on the keys to see their dark brown bull mastiff sitting directly behind me.
Every Saturday morning when the trees are still tinged with blue, Coco and I would stroll down the road leading out of our house. We enter into the endless preserve of saguaro and dirt. Coco, for a fifteen-year-old Jack Russell, is a fun-sized, furry firecracker. She doesn’t say much, but the bounce in her step and sassy saunter is enough to put a smile on anyone’s face. Her collar jingles as she sprints in front of me with her signature lopsided grin and a crazy look in her eyes. She has been, and always will be, a mischievous puppy. One time she dug a hole under the gate and slipped out. My eyes bulged when I saw her swimming in circles in my neighbor’s recently cleaned pool. She looked like a drenched rat as she scurried back to the house. I expected a good yelling when my neighbor saw what she had done, but all he said was “Your dog is a hell of a good swimmer.”
When most people think about dogs, they say that they are man's best friend. Although this is true, they are much more than that. They are your family. They are the only animal in the world who does not care if you are not perfect, and will love you not matter what you do. This is what dogs truly are. When you realize this is true about all dogs, it makes it even harder to let them go.
Most of Wyatt’s prepper friends warned him that bringing a dog into the bunker would create a new set of problems to be dealt with, such as extra medical supplies, storing food, and creating space for her to run and relieve herself, but as Wyatt saw it, he didn’t have a wife or kids to stock supplies for so he had space to spare. He kept Sugar on a diet that consisted of dry kibble and a variety of homemade meals and treats which were made from ingredients he would already have in the bunker stores anyway. He also fitted the door to each compartment with a doggy door so that she could go between the “house” and the “yard” unassisted. Then, he divided the second unit into three parts. The mudroom entry led directly into a gym that had been