Six years ago, My Mom, Dad, Sister and I started fostering a kitten named Buttercup, then named her Stella after we adopted her. Buttercup was her old name, along with her sister Butterscotch and brother Butterball. My family and I loved Stella. Stella is my version of a living treasure, even with her flaws I wouldn’t change anything about her. She's sweet, loving, and gives me someone to talk to who doesn’t criticize. She was my world, and still is. Stella has pure vanilla white hair, chocolatey-brown spots, and yellow eyes like sunflowers. Now she is six years old and I hope she stays with me for a long time. I’ll tell this story starting at the beginning at my house in Atlanta, Georgia, the place where I grew up. Six years ago, when I was seven, my family fostered kittens. I lived in Georgia for …show more content…
I would stay up, for hours until midnight or longer, sitting in my bed thinking and doing nothing. after I begged my mom and dad one million times to let Stella sleep in my room, they finally said yes. Once Stella started sleeping my room my sleep trauma went away. I don't know, maybe it was Stella's soft fur, or her soft purring that was like the waves at the beach or like white noise, but something about her just soothed me and I could sleep again. I guess you could say she saved me, she's like my unsung hero. After about a year of having Stella and living in Georgia we packed our bags and moved to Florida. We tried everything to get Stella in her crate but she was stubborn and smart and would not go in no matter what. The last time we put her in a crate was when we went to the vet's office and she did not like that; her nose got a blister that looked like she got sunburned because she would rub her nose on the metal door. She never went into the crate again after that. So, I put a handful of treats at the back of the carrier and left it in the kitchen. Finally after a little less than an hour Stella went in the
Far back, in the midst of a time when the world was very young, there lived a princess named Lucille and a bunny named Fluffy. Lucille was a beautiful girl with chocolate brown hair, and eyes as blue as the sweet summer sky. Fluffy was as white as snowflakes and as soft as clouds. He offered plenty of razzmatazz but little manners. They lived together in a tall castle, covered in green vines and grey cobblestone, hidden in the dense forest filled with animals and nature.
You wouldn’t believe everything that's been going for the past two weeks. Remember Betty Parris? She fell into a “sickness” but I heard that there's something darker to the story… witchcraft. . Eventually she woke up and started screaming some nonsense about wanting her mother, who’s been dead for what feels like ages now. That's how you know something sinister is afoot. The only thing that could calm her down was Rebecca Nurse. I don’t know about you, but I think that's pretty suspicious that out of all the people in town, only Goody Nurse could get some sense into the child. Rumor has it that she was caught flying over the Ingersoll’s barn the just a few nights ago. That's just the beginning of it..
was about eight years old--I was living in this foster home that took in boarders
Well carl you are my cellmate and i have known you for a while.Carl you should know what I did to be in here.
Acting: During the film Asa Butterfield playing Bruno and David Hayman’s portrayal of Pavel stood out to me on screen. While watching the film astonishment struck me as I did not expect a young actor, Butterfield, to perform so well and bring to life a character involving such a touching subject. Hayman’s role as Pavel also stood out to me as he represented the life of Jews put in camps very well, and I especially liked the scene were he first brought in the vegetables as I thought he represented the health level of most Jews in the camps. All the major characters fitted their roles very well, especially David Thewlis as Ralf and Henry Kingsmill as Karl during their actions at the kitchen table.
Buttercup, as presented in the book The Princess Bride, by William Goldman, lacks the many characteristics to claim the title “Princess.” In her world she may be considered princess material, but in this world, the modern world, my daughter as a much better chance of becoming a princess.
This elderly patient was so bossy just now. If you don't your doing don't stick me I need a butterfly. So I get the butterfly stick me right here on my hand. Me: that's your bone shit see you don't know what your doing.
Sticking two black button eyes on our snowman, I turned and gave Charlie a high-five. "Finished!" I said. "And there's not a finer snowman in the whole neighborhood." But Charlie wasn't looking at me. He was staring at the snowman, his face almost as white.
I find that it works well to use a small treat to lure the dog into the crate. When the dog first arrives, do this several times so he begins to understand. Also when he is going in the crate I use the command "kennel up".... ... middle of paper ...
Yellow Cardigan: Just when I was going to take off my shoes There on the rooftop I can clearly see A girl with pretty long braided hair there before me Despite myself I go and scream, "Please don't do it!" Wait a moment what did I say? I really couldn't care less either way!
Hello I'm Alice. I live in Berwick, England in 1222 ,and I have a dream. My dream is to become a knight. I know this sounds crazy in my time but I think that it's possible. You guys reading probably are in the future.I'm going to tell my story. This is where the fun begins.
Ever since I was a boy I--I saw things, things that people did not really understand. They did not understand the bond I had with Rose. He was my friend- my only friend- up until my parents gave me away. That is when Rose started speaking to me through a Rose. I knew it was him because when I did something wrong it would start to die. The rose would glare at me, and give me a bad feeling, which is what would make me do things, things that hurt other people. It calls to me in the middle of the night --I hate that he wakes me up -- I have to wake up or he gets angry. One day a girl came in the house, I was shocked no one ever comes to visit. I heard something -- it was the rose- he was telling me to kill her. Rose told me to stab her over and over again, but I could not because I could tell there was something special about her.
As the wind wailed outside our house on a freezing January night, a night so cold not even the thickest skinned animal would even dare to be outside, there was a thunderous screech outside of my house. I first ignored the atrocious sound, until I heard the screech once again and finally urged my mom to go see what was outside. To our surprise, she came back with a little nappy white kitten once freezing to death on this frosty winter night, now curled up in mom’s loving arms. My family brought this little fur ball into our house to warm her up, and we instantly fell head over heels in love. Being instantly attached, we named her Mufossa (Moofy for short), even though my parents were only planning on keeping her on the heated porch until
1.) First Experience: The first experience that I remember as a memorable day was when my children and I adopted our cat. I let my daughter chose between six kittens, but then I chose her name, Luna, moon in Italian. She is just a cat, but she was like a baby to us, cried at night and kept us awake, playing with her during the day and laugh at the funny things she did. It was a tough time for us, especially for my husband. He was very vulnerable and depressed, when we were out for school and work he would stay home take care of her keeping him busy. She is attached to my children particularly to my son Gabriele because he is also very gentle with her. She would like to come in my room, but I don’t allowed her to do it, if I don’t see her, she
When discussing the poetic form of dramatic monologue it is rare that it is not associated with and its usage attributed to the poet Robert Browning. Robert Browning has been considered the master of the dramatic monologue. Although some critics are skeptical of his invention of the form, for dramatic monologue is evidenced in poetry preceding Browning, it is believed that his extensive and varied use of the dramatic monologue has significantly contributed to the form and has had an enormous impact on modern poetry. "The dramatic monologues of Robert Browning represent the most significant use of the form in postromantic poetry" (Preminger and Brogan 799). The dramatic monologue as we understand it today "is a lyric poem in which the speaker addresses a silent listener, revealing himself in the context of a dramatic situation" (Murfin 97). "The character is speaking to an identifiable but silent listener at a dramatic moment in the speaker's life. The circumstances surrounding the conversation, one side which we "hear" as the dramatic monologue, are made by clear implication, and an insight into the character of the speaker may result" (Holman and Harmon 152).