Descriptive Essay On The Day At A Dog

Once upon a time there lived a dog named Charlie. He’s a beautiful black lab and german shepard mix. He has an amazing owner who has a mom, dad and siblings. His owner’s name is Emma. They have the best times together. They always take “road trips” together, as Charlie would consider it, to get yummy treats.

We invited Baby’s best friend Sadie (a poodle down the street), and Mika (Bridget’s bulldog), over to enjoy the festivities. We were going to pick out some toys for gift bags for Mika and Sadie. When we were in Pet Smart, Baby was running through the isles pulling me along behind him. When we rounded the corner with the toys, this lady was standing there. She had a little Boston terrier. That little dog started showing his teeth and growling at Baby, so I shortened the leash and brought Baby closer to me. I did

“Hi guys, who wants a bath?” I said as I got out of the truck. Neither of them like baths so they just backed away with their heads down. Then I asked “Who wants a treat?” They both perked back up and came running towards me again as I walked towards the house. It is a simple two bedroom, one bath, cabin in the woods type house. It is far enough out that I can’t hear the hustle and bustle of the City, but still have neighbors not too far away. The dogs followed me into the house, as I dropped the files on the table the two ran into the kitchen and sat patiently waiting by the pantry. I gave them both a bone and went back to the

It seemed like an average day, when suddenly, Brooke’s mother and father said they wouldn't be home all day and they trusted that she takes care of Anthony and her dog Gunner while they’re away. They also said Anthony and she would get grounded from electronics for three days if they weren’t on our best behavior. However, because Brooke’s living with the world’s biggest troublemaker as a little brother, it’s a hard achievement to receive. While Brooke was cleaning the dishes, Anthony toke Gunner out to the back of our house. At first, she thought nothing of it, what could possibly go wrong? Ordinarily, it’s healthy for any dog to get some fresh air. Then, without warning, Brooke heard the gate creak open and heard Gunner scampered like a lightning

It was September 29, 2014. I was at the Bloomsburg Fair with my parents and my dog. You know how hard it is to hold on too a helium balloon, right? Well, imagine that but with a leash and a 70 pound great dane. It is not the easiest thing to hold on to when you are trying to eat a burger or look at art. But yet, I was stuck holding Ellie, the Great Dane, when she was about my height. But, after I realized that I had a Lemonade in one hand and a burger in the other, but no leash I realized what I had done. My dog was lost at the Bloomsburg Fair!

Do you want to know what excites me about babysitting my little brother as well as my dog? Well, I’ll give you a tiny hint, absolutely none of it does. My mom and dad are gone all day and they trust that I take care of Anthony and my dog Gunner while they’re away. They said me and Anthony would be grounded from electronics for three days if we weren’t on our best behavior. However, living with the world’s biggest troublemaker as a little brother is a hard achievement to receive. While I was cleaning the dishes, Anthony toke Gunner out to the back of our house. At first, I thought nothing of it, what could possibly go wrong? I mean, it’s healthy for any dog to get some fresh air. Then without warning, I heard the gate creak open and heard Gunner

“I’ve always wanted a dog, Josh. You can’t ruin this for me.” There was an awkward silence, and that meant to me that the conversation is over. We both walked over with our sister, mom and dad, without making a vision of each other. As we walked, still we had made no eye contact.

“Mady, we’re already here… I think.” I looked around. This was where our dogs usually stayed, but none of our dogs were there. There were new dogs. I knew the difference, because we’ve had our dogs for three generations. I know them like the back of my hand. And Mama wouldn’t just get rid of them; they are some of her most precious possessions.

On Wednesday, June 18, 2003, I had finalized the decision to put my incapacitated dog to rest. It became a reality. I clearly remember the warm, breezy day that occurred two weeks ago. As I sat in the freshly cutgrass of my front yard, I paid no attention to the sounds of the birds that were singing or the leaves that were dancing on the trees. All that was on my mind was the details of the last 13 years and remembering the times we shared together. As I kept trying to convince myself that he would not have to suffer another day from his ailments, I kept thinking of the first day that he came into my life. I was 15 years old when I got Valen. It was Valentine's Day in 1990. Earlier that week my mother was near Port Jervis, New York on a business trip. She had some free time before she had to come home to Pennsylvania so she decided to stop at the local SPCA. Her intentions were to simply look at the animals and then leave. She made her way to the area that housed the dogs. There she found a shy, but friendly, golden retriever. He was a bit apprehensive at first, almost as if he was neglected and abused, but it didn't take much of my mom's gentle touch and her soft, subtle voice before this dog realized she was his savior. She decided that she would like to adopt this dog however, the policy was strict, and there was a seven-day waiting period before you could adopt an animal.

“Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t, “ said Mrs. Minter. “I’m sure your mutt is just as pure and innocent as the new fallen snow.”

When the dog preceded to walk towards us like a hyena I began to clench on the leash in order to try to prevent the slaughter that was about to happen within an arm’s distance. The walking milk quart sized dog began jumping like a ninja because it wanted to somehow prove that it was the dominant dog. When it realized that didn’t intimidate us it began jumping and circling us. The circles were nerve racking because I did not know if it was going to bite Mayson or me. I did not know whether I should let my dog loose and hope for the best or to keep my hand gripped onto the red leash that now was the same

My owner Ella, her first name is Eileen, but I call her Ella. She got home from work today, she picked me up and gave me a big kiss on the nose. I hate when she does this, it makes me feel icky like I’m being forced to go on a waterslide of spit. When she sets me down I look up at her with the face telling her I need to go to the yard. It is hard for me to get Ella to do things I need her to do. For example, I give her sad eyes when I have to go, I give two barks when I want food, and one bark when I need water. Ella knows all of these signals, so when I look at her with sad eyes she says in her high-pitched voice, “Oh! Wellington, do you have to go pee pee!” She opens the front door to let me out.

She came home, and immediately I knew something was off; even though I used my usually effective methods of persuasion, she did not want to play. Even her favourite squeaky toy didn’t make her want to play. She told me to go lie down, and I did—because that’s what good dogs do.

When I woke up in the morning, there was a dog in my lab. The dog was not very pedestrian, as he looked very strange and awkward and wasn’t moving. I did my best to remove the dog from my lap as he was very warm. My parents must have brought the dog home yesterday, I thought. Nothing seemed to work. The dog was very tenacious. All I wanted to do was get ready for school. The previous night, I had stayed up until midnight finishing my homework which required being very scrupulous. I am very particularly and demand the best of myself.

When I was in Idyllwild on a family trip to play in the snow one day, we stopped at a convenience store to get something to snack on and drink. When we walked inside there was a man walking around trying to sell a pitbull puppy with faint black spots hidden behind his fuzzy white fur. It was close to my step brother’s birthday at the time, and he wanted the puppy as an early birthday present. My step brother, Nathaniel, wasn’t the only one who wanted that puppy. In truth, the rest of my family on this trip also wanted the puppy. As we left Idyllwild that day, we left with one more puppy than we came with. At the time, the puppy’s name was Carlitos, but we decided to name him Rosco instead.