What Does Digger Mean

Today, Candy gave me a puppy. Its black and white, and real soft. I like petting soft things. I promised George that I ain’t gonna hurt it, because if I do I won’t get to tend the rabbits like he promised.

I was scared to find out if that box is still in there. I sighed deeply and got out. I trudged my way up to the house and walked inside. I threw my stuff in the living room and went to my bedroom. I looked around trying to find the box but I couldn't find anything. That's weird, I guess it was my imagination. I wonder where Levitican is. "Levitican!" I didn't hear a single sound throughout the house. It was quiet. Eerily quiet. I started running around the house checking every room and yelling out my dog's name. I couldn't find him anywhere.

It has been almost 3 years since he has passed and there is not a day that goes by in which I do not think of him. This really hit me hard and it took a while for me accept the fact that I will never get to see him again. From going through the experience of a loss I have learned that life can take you in a blink of an eye and that you need to make the most of it because you never know what is going to happen

The time I adopted my dog bella, I knew it would be a mystical time. I adopted her when she needed a place to stay in October. She’s a Poodle and her fur white as snow and a brown nose, “she’s beautiful” I said the first time I saw her. She has colored eyes and sleeps with me at night. She runs towards me when I get home. She cries for I can give her food.She just loves when I call her “Beladora”.I love her so much she sometimes prefers me than food and if you know her she loves food a lot to much sometimes.She will always love me as I will always love her even when she steals food out of my hands.

It was a hot, summer morning in late June when I heard barking outside my door. It was my dog, lucky, trying to wake me up. I got up and went downstairs.

I was barely crying until I was nearly 10 ft. away, then it hit me. It was the worst feeling of my life, I can’t explain it. I didn’t want to make a big scene so I made it quick and just turned and followed the family. We then walked out of the room as they were closing the lid and preparing the casket and Bob to go in the hearse. We all huddled together and moaned and expressed our emotions, the most we ever have.

In Anglo-Saxon culture blood feud was a common occurrence and if left unchecked could leave an entire area devoid of people that once called it home due to infighting. To avoid furthering conflict one could also pay the wer-gild but if the murderer refused to pay the wer-gild they would be exiled from their society of forced to live on their own on the fringes of civilization. The Wanderer is from the perspective of one man who was exiled after a blood feud and this part of his story is critical to understanding the poem within the context of the culture it was written. However The Wanderer has a backdrop of blood feud and punishment by exile surrounding it but it is not by itself a poem that condemns either of those things instead it contends with the idea of wyrd or fate and how it is inescapable.

It was a summer day the sun was out, the ground was hot, the shade was dull, the sweet smell of the flowers, the icy water on the sprinkler, the perfect day to go outside and play. The birds were chirping, the trees and were green,

There is a fierce competition going on every night in the woods, a secret ritualistic meeting of disenfranchised businessmen. Each armed with a shovel they challenge is to dig for as long as you can. The nightly competition attracts a nameless and silent protagonist, an office worker who spends his days fantasizing about the act of digging. He must face some fierce competition in order to make it to the top and beat the man who silently watches over the event.

Anyone who knows me, will most likely know that I am a car nut. I can name a very wide variety of cars, from American cars to import cars, junkers to supercars. I am also really into trucks also. It is funny, because I used to despise it when people lowered them, Now I wonder why?

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

Children of different ages ran around our park bench, playing chase. Families set up picnic rugs, while dogs exercised with Frisbees and balls. This park was a beloved and familiar place, with long rolls of purple carpet pathways from blooming jacaranda trees, wooden benches, and luscious green grass standing tall against the afternoon breeze.

I didn’t think that anything was wrong. So, once again I was wrong. I got in the car and asked him why he looked so depressed. He gave me a certain look, and I immediately knew what was wrong. It seemed as in an instant I broke into a screaming tear. No, my dog is not dead, well yet anyway.

Once, in the first week following his passing, I came through my front door and looked at the area where he would usually be sitting or lying. I called for him with the foolish notation that he would appear and come running to me. But of course, he did not. Then, I walked past his empty food bowls and tears started running down my face. It was a shattering reminder that he was gone and never coming back.

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