Summary Of A Dog's Short Story: Tracker

She was an organized killer, making it harder to find her even though she had committed many crimes in the past. An organized killer is intelligent and hard to capture. They think things through and are extremely meticulous. Everything is planned ahead of time and they know exactly what to do. Stalking their victims is a common thing these people do to ensure they have as much information they need to commit the crime. To carry out this deed, they will trick the victim

stories. Not always she was willing to tell one of them, but, fortunately, this was not one of those nights. She asked everyone to come closer and showed them one of her tattoos, on a spot on her left shoulder, usually hidden by her long black hair.

A girl, who looked no older than ten, had her hands pressed up against the window. She had blood covering her from head-to-toe, including her fingers, which creating crimson patterns against the glass. The girl looked terrified, her eyes widened and mouth wide open in shock. She screamed again, which shook Lauren from her stupor.

On 10/03/16 at 4:00pm, I Deputy Warden N. Christian was dispatched to 669 E Jenkins Ave on a dog on dog or cat attack, owner known. I arrived at the location and was met by Columbus Police Officers (CPD) who stated that they have been dealing with the male subject that resided at 659 E Jenkins Ave for a long time. CPD Officers explained that three dogs owned by that resident got loose and attack a dog at 669 E Jenkins Ave. I talk to witness Clarissa Rodriguez who owned the dog that was attacked. She stated her dog was in their yard when three dogs got into her yard and started attacking her dog. Ms. Rodriguez wrote out a statement of facts in regards to the incident. I took pictures of Ms. Rodriguez injury, a small wound on the right

A small girl was curled by the next door, hands gripping her ghastly white knees as she shook. A rusted hook laid by her side, and I winced as I came to the conclusion that it's was covered to the brim with blood.

She was small and certainly young, perhaps fourteen or so. Her eyes looked hungry, and her frame was slight. The clothes she wore looked too large for her - hanging like drapes on her thin body - and they were torn and muddy in places. Her hair, which looked as though it had been blond once, was tangled and so dirty you could hardly tell.

Chase the dog is a bat boy who was trained to go out on the field and fetch a baseball or a baseball bat. Later on Chase met a dog named Princess and had puppies with her; then they had Derby who had became the second bat boy after Chase. Soon after that Chase had gotten arthritis and was forced to quit the bat fetching business. In January twenty thirteen Case went to see the vet then was diagnosed with cancer. Three days before Chase died he was put on the Yankees stadium field just three day later Chase had died from cancer on July 8, 2013. Derby said goodbye to Chase right before he had passed away.

It's awful. I hate going to vet because I'm so fearful they will give us similar news or just try to sell us something we don't need. It's so sad doggies don't live longer. Our doggies have been there thru good times and bad and true members of the family. I truly feel your pain. A couple months ago when Decky almost passed I was basket case and it hurt more than I ever could of imagined. So sorry for you guys. I know flames knows she is

Burying her head in her hands, she let her tears mingle into a puddle on her dark dress. The relentless wind howled around the house and the rain pattered roughly against the wood siding. A sudden rapping at the front door aroused Gwilan from her mournful meditations. Gwilan rose from her seat and opened the rugged green door. A young sopping girl stood timidly at the doorstep, her shining eyes gleaming with hope. Gwilan gasped and pulled the girl inside.

As I held on to Dogger and his brown leather belt, all I could think about was the thick, wrinkled packet I picked up at the Admiral Benbow from the Captain’s chest. “How long ‘till we get to the Doctor’s place, Dogger?’ I asked. “I’d say ‘bout a few hours or so,” replied Dogger. I felt slightly disappointed as I thought about riding in this icy cold weather one minute more. I decided to keep myself occupied for this long trip ahead by making small talk. “So, what kinda work is Dr. Livesey doin’ up here?” I curiously questioned. “I’m not quite sure what he’s exactly doin’, but I know he’s workin with a small family,”

Lying beneath the rubble was a battered young girl of fourteen years. She was scrawny and frail in appearance, though I knew she must have anything but weak to survive as long as she did. The colors of death and murder blended into an awesome display of pale pink and deep red hues, painted by war and terror.

The small wooden door slid open to reveal 3 girls of different ethnicities guarded by four men. Fear was stricken in their innocent and tears eyes. The first girl was lanky, with dark hair and brown eyes, who also appeared to be of Asian descent. She had multiple bruises running along her body and a deep gash running along her cheek.The second girl had bright red spirals for hair, vibrant green eyes, and freckles scattered around her round face. Lastly, the third girl was short with messy blonde hair. She had prominent icy blue eyes and smudged makeup under her eyes. All of men guarding them had a dark mask covering their features. They pushed the group of ladies forward and slammed the door

She was a pretty girl, though rarely did anyone pay much attention to the frail creature huddling in the darkest of alleys. Her once blonde hair was now coated with grime and dirt, matted and knotted, straggly and unkempt. Her angelic face was unwashed and smeared; coal dust had taken up residence

The girl bolted to the door, eyes darting wildly through the smoke-filled room. The flames licked at her heels as she ran, barefoot, out the front door of the once friendly dwelling. She panted, her glazed eyes looking back at her former home. Her small body collapsed onto the pavement, tears crashing down her tanned face. She heard the muffled cries from her parents in still inside. The parents she couldn’t protect. The parents she killed.

Well hello, my name’s Carley! I was brought in to the shelter as a stray, and can be a little shy around new people at first. However, it doesn’t seem to take me long to start warming up to people. When you first go to pick me up, I tend