Personal Narrative: Home And Her Behavioral Specilist

On 05/31/17, at 4:36pm, I was dispatched to the area of Noe Bixby Rd and Sedalia Ave on a dog at large, patrol only. I arrived in the area and drove around. As I was driving north bound on Noe Bixby Rd when I was flagged down by the caller that originated the call. I pulled over and exited by vehicle. The complainant stated the dog was running loose in the area; she was able to capture the dog (medium mix black/white) and wait until I arrived. I had the complainant completed an animal release form. I place the dog in my vehicle; the dog had no identifying markers indicating ownership. As I was in the process of putting information into our database (Shelter Buddy) Franklin County Animal Care and Control (FCACC) Dispatcher B. Grotsky advised me that he just received a phone in regards to someone possible owing the dog I had in my vehicle.

"More than anything, I just want you to know that there is more than one person you can lean on. You may have someone up their who you are relying on, but you have two incrediably strong sons who would never wish to see their mother in pain like this. Whatever the outcome we finally get your boys will be strong for you and in return I'm sure you will be strong for them."[/b]

"You can't keep holding on to stuff like this, James." Natasha sighed, slipping a delicate hand through her hair. "It's not healthy."

I woke up on a warm sunny Saturday morning and went down stairs and called my friend Joey Gliech and said “Today is the day!”

I left my radio in the back room in was most likely with the volunteer who was covering for me. He yelled at me to "get up" and told me lets talk in Joshs' office (which was a few steps away). Daniel storms in Joshs' office, turns on the light and sits down in the office chair in front of the desk with his arms crossed and a sticky note in his hand. I follow him and prop the door open with the door stop is I say "lets keep the door open it's hot in here." The real reason I did this was because I was extremely uncomfortable. He then yells, "Do you want to tell me where you have been?". I was standing in the door way, not completely in the room when I told him that I met with HR. He asked very angrily who I got permission to leave from and then stated that I left my post without permission.

I HAD BEEN ASLEEP QUITE SOUNDLY FOR A COUPLE HOURS, WHEN I WAS AWOKEN BY AN ALL TOO FAMILIAR SOUND. IT SEEMED LIKE EVERY TIME MY BRAIN REGISTERED CERTAIN NOISES - EVEN WHEN I WAS DEEP IN SLEEP, IT SENT OFF A PANIC TRIGGER THAT FLOODED THROUGH MY MIND. THIS WAS ANOTHER ONE OF THOSE TIMES.

In my seventh-period P.E. class Mrs. Greene announced to us, “That it is cold outside so you can either stay in the gym or go outside.” Faith, Jessica, and I stood up from the hard black unappealing plastic bleachers to go outside. As I opened the door, the wind whipped around my bare skin and leaves whirled along the ground. “It is freezing; I'm going back inside.” I retorted. We were walking along the narrow hallway going back to the gym when we met Carlie. She gave us no room to walk by her so I retreated to the wall that way we wouldn’t collide with each other. I turned around and saw Carlie bump into Faith. “Move outta my way.” Faith screeched ferociously. Carlie looked at Faith with her eyes glaring, but preceded to walk onward down

I didn't want to go to the dinner because Frank would be there with Gloria. Earlier I told Wes we shouldn't go to the dinner with his parents. He got mad and said what was he suppose to do, break it of with them. I just left it alone because I didn't feel like arguing. When we was close to the ranch Wes shouted to us we could go camping at they Yellowstone to see the geyers. I told him a real vacation would be to see the mountains. This vacation promise he made to us meant Wes and I wasn't fighting anymore. I was relieved. When we finally arrived I saw Franks truck covered in dirt. They were already here. I didn't like Wes parents house. It was too much for my eyes. My parents home was much better. Wes father was already outside waiting for

This week I got to take a trip to Gates Estate with Heather so that she could take a lesson with her trainer friend JJ Lavieri. At UNH I have learned to always dress professionally because you never know who you are going to meet and second people will take you more seriously when you dress professionally because you look like you know what you are doing. The night before this trip I set out my nice tan breaches, my UNH equestrian polo, and my tall boots. That morning I arrived to work a little early so that I could get the horse Deelite ready to goon the trailer. Heather had asked me to do standing wraps instead of shipping boots since it was only a short smooth trailer ride. Yet again keeping in mind that appearance is everything I dressed

Mama shoved me under Daddy's church desk, and laid on top of me with her hand over my mouth. I broke free long enough to say, "Daddy's flying away, Mama."

I sat there less than 50 yards from the Borbous River in Leslie, Missouri on the amazing 150 acres of land. Sadly though I have been left, abandoned. My loving family gone, never to return. Once they ran and played outside next to me but now I am alone. The land is overgrown, left without care. The fence that once keep out animals and other things has fallen and left me exposed. The watery air that once caused me to radiate and glisten now leaves nothing but crude marks of oxidation on my aluminum roof. I remember the days that little feet would run through my halls, the sweet smell of breakfast being cooked, and the sharp smell of whiskey being poured. Now all of those things are gone. I no longer hear those feet or smell the breakfast or the whiskey. I witnessed the children grow and leave and the parents

The cold snap of the previous week was over; the sun was shining brightly as Clary hurried across Luke's dusty front yard, the hood of her jacket up to keep her hair from blowing across her face. The weather might have warmed up, but the wind off the East River could still be brutal. It carried with it a faint chemical smell, mixed with the Brooklyn smell of asphalt, gasoline, and burned sugar from the abandoned factory down the street.

It's the smell that hits you first. As you lug open the big and awkward, reddish-brown-painted door decorated with its tired hinges, that creak like the moaning of difficult and crabby old men, a puff of the sweet, old and bad-smelling odor of last summer's straw presses from your first, slow breath into your nose. Then you detect the undertones: the hot and humid, snobby musk of animal fur and the sharp smell of old, oily metal and machinery. Soon after the smell, your eyes make up for the dim paleness of light, and you begin to make out the shapes of dusty frames of wooden stalls and poles, and the heavy chest of the loft that hangs from the ceiling.

Kathryn, my enchantress, oh how rereading through our messages brings nostalgia to all of our preceding periods of excruciatingly voluptuous intercourse, or, rather, as close as we can get for now. Each word you spout is so delicately plucked from my cravings it's astounding we aren't the same person, you're adept at manipulating my mood at your inclination. Leaving me aroused at a moments notice, or illumination the dingiest of evenings with your sentiment pampering my each and every concern, fear, and worry. I have far surpassed the point of being merely fortunate for what I have, there isn't enough wailing I could do in order to display my gratification for you. There's not a moment that passes that lacks mention of you, whether it's be

We live in a world where different does scare us, which is why we come up with all these labels of “gay”, “straight”, “black”, “white”, etc… we feel like we have to have a way to identify each other. Why can’t we all just be? We’re all people, that much we all have in common, so why can’t we just accept that, that we are all “human”? Why do we have to come up with all these labels? Let me tell you my story, a story of many places, races, and countless labels where nobody seems to fit in, and for that exact same reason everybody like me fits in.