There once was this dog named Carl. Carl is a special kind of dog though he can see the past which is weird since we are all reborn with new memory i guess he can see what things were like back in his other lives.Carl was a full blood American Pitbull. One day his owner took him to the underground fight club. As Carl’s first fight is underway, he starts getting overtaken by the other dog. Meanwhile, they give the dogs a break as he was getting out of the ring he suddenly had a vision of a black panther taking down a tiger which is a much larger opponent. He realized it was not just a random black panther it was himself in another lifetime. As the vision went on he studied the way He fought the tiger and figured he could use some of the same things he did in his past life, to win this fight. …show more content…
Suddenly, he jolted to his feet barking and growling at what he thought was a centipede. As Carl took a closer look he realized it was no centipede it was a Burmese python. Once again, he another vision of the black panther but this time there is no tiger there is a snake. IN this vision the panther takes his time when he chooses to lunge at the snake because he knows the snake is poisonous and can really hurt him. He has to wait until the snake loses focus then he goes in the for the kill. As the vision faded away the snake was now much closer, now he is starting to get scared. as the snake inches closer and closer, he get more confidence he stares the snake right in the eyes. Locked in he now waits for the snake to lose focus so he can strike and make the kill. now as he waits in complete non motion he sees him time to attack. Bang! He has the throat of the snake and now rips the snake head off. as he pushes the snake's head and body out of the cage he is feeling really good and geeked up. As he falls back asleep he is feeling really accomplished with himself over the long week he has
This adds to the reader’s sympathy because he didn’t provoke the man’s attack and did nothing to deserve what happened to him. He was punished despite being completely innocent. Though the snake does not pose a direct threat, he is an extremely powerful creature and a great asset to the beauty of nature. He “felt no necessity of getting out of anybody’s path,” showing his confidence in himself. Though he is confident, he is not arrogant. He does not cower at the sight of the man, nor does he try to threaten him. He simply stands his ground confidently, waiting for the man to dictate his next move. This trait of the snake causes the reader to respect him and appreciate his position of power, reinforcing their sympathetic feelings. The snake’s death was slow and painful, and the author described all of the gruesome details in order to further affect the reader. The man himself admits that “it was a nasty sight”. First, he hacked about in the paper bag bush until he “dragged
As the deer fed at the marsh's edge, it's tail flickering as it nibbled tender and ripe green growth. Then the nervous animal pauses in it's feeding and lifted its head to listen. Whatever hint of danger the deer had sensed was ignored once the threat could not be located. It stamped a forefoot, lowered its head and began to eat once more, this deer had failed to detect a Florida panther that was downwind (going into the wind) crouched low in the underbrush. Amber eyes however, estimated the distance between himself and the deer. Then at the right moment attacked the deer, with bounds at over twenty feet at a time the panther exploded out of the underbrush pouncing on the deer and forcing it to the ground. Within fifteen seconds that panther stood breathing heavily over his unfortunate victim of life and death. This scene has been going on for many years, the battle of predator and prey, but know the new predators are humans almost virtually wiping out the entire population leaving only an estimated 30 - 50 Florida panthers left.
Looking through the thick pines, Apollo stops and points his tail. His mouth is bearing the ivory-like jaws ready to greet the threat. The stench of death is blowing through the wind. Bruce looks around. First he spots dead carcasses everywhere, then through an opening in the trees all he can see is the gigantic head of a mountain lion mouth dripping with crimson droplets from its fresh kill. The big cat backs away, snapping every branch on the way out. With the adrenaline racing through his veins, Bruce charges through the limbs raising his knife. He gets to where he last saw the beast and then he sees nothing. Not a single track. He kneels down to examine the lions fresh kill. It was a… just then the sensation of knives jabbing into Bruce’s back awakens him from his confused state. The razor sharp claws sink deep into his flesh. Bruce lets out a blood curdling yell as the pads of the enormous feet slide down his back. The only thing Apollo could do to save Bruce is snap at the legs of the mountain lion. As the weight of the giant cat pushing down on Bruce’s back, his legs collapse. The cracking of bone sends shivers up Bruce’s Spine. As he lays there in pain as motionless as can be, he can hear the fight between the cat and Apollo. Bruce cannot move to help Apollo. The snarls and growls rage on for several
Joseph Campbell studied ancient greek mythology for many years. Joseph filled each stage of the journey very well. He accepted all the challenges he got and all the help he needed. He really knew how to fulfill all those stages. Like everyone goes through a heroic journey everyone has to have a story to tell. My story is very contrasty from Joseph’s because he really knew what all the stages meant. My hero's journey consists of my threshold crossing which was when I started depending on myself more than I did on others, my helpers/mentors like my parents, teachers,my sister and many more influential people in my life and my rewards were getting awards in school, having a nice family, and many friends.
On the way out the game had been plentiful and he had been eating rabbits for all 3 meals. The Night that he had finally settled it snowed about 3 feet and boxed him into the shelter he had made. When he finally got out and stumbled above the snow he realized he had made a mistake, he had not brought snowshoes. He decided to try to make a pair. 3 hours later he had the crudest pair of snowshoes he had seen, he wasn't even sure if he could call them snowshoes. He grabbed his brand new .22 and headed out to get breakfast. On his way out he saw a couple of tracks that he had identified as canine.
Growing up an African American female in poverty is hard. You constantly see your parents worry about making ends meet. They wonder will they be able to make their paycheck reach to the next paycheck. Being young and watching your mother struggle is something you do not understand. I was born in Cleveland, Ohio and raised there until I was 5. In 2005 I move south to live in Abbeville, Al. By this time my mother and father separated and I was being raised by my mother, a single parent. Having moved to a smaller town from the big city was one of my very first obstacles. Everything is done differently in the south from how I was raised. They spoke differently and acted differently. This was just something I was not used too. I always knew how my mom raised
The sight of the snake is so heartbreaking that even the man is left to rethink
So, seeing Devon pull out his revolver, in addition to the other four guns pointing at me, didn’t erupt too much fear in my heart nor did it convince me to bargain off my hidden, life-saving stash of money. At this point, I’m fed up with life and won’t put up a fight. Guess today’s the day I meet God, who probably won’t be pleased with the account I will give. Glancing to my right, the man at the bar is cupping a glass of whiskey with shaky hands. Melissa, who is standing behind the counter, avoids my eyes and pretends to clean a cup. Just last week, we were laughing about politics over two glasses of Sprite and speaking kindly of her government-working husband. This transition in loyalty is disheartening.
The Hero’s Journey is a basic template utilized by writers everywhere. Joseph Campbell, an American scholar, analyzed an abundance of myths and literature and decided that almost all of them followed a template that has around twelve steps. He would call these steps the Hero’s Journey. The steps to the Hero’s Journey are a hero is born into ordinary circumstances, call to adventure/action, refusal of call, a push to go on the journey, aid by mentor, a crossing of the threshold, the hero is tested, defeat of a villain, possible prize, hero goes home. The Hero’s Journey is more or less the same journey every time. It is a circular pattern used in stories or myths.
“Yes I did because you deserve it,each of your brothers got there own car and so do you.Ellie you lifted the family up when your father died and I can’t thank you enough.”
Adrienne was mingling with friends on the bus, or that's what I assumed. All of the children were excited because the basketball team had just won their last game that would qualify them for regions. Over the course of the journey back to the school, I heard bickering, but I thought nothing of it. I proceeded in talking to the bus driver and looking over some late work turned in by my students. Suddenly, the bickering got louder! As a first instinct, I jumped up, as I was alarmed by all of the chatter. In a swift manner, I went to the back of the bus and discovered that Adrienne and another student were involved in some sort of altercation. I watched as one of the students began to charge at Adrienne, so I wasted no time in trying to diffuse the
“You’re definitely not black. At least, not African American black. And you’re not West Indian either. Whatever country is not in the West Indies.”
My life intersects with Into The Wild because I never had a good relationship with my mom or stepfather Dan who was 21 years older than my mother. So I “escaped” to Columbia much like Chris did from his own reality. Dan would drink every day; you would rarely see him without a drink in his hand. His drink of choice would be either whiskey or beer depending on what he could afford. You could always tell when he was smashed and when he was I was the person he wanted to tear down with his words the most. I remember one night after my grandma just had surgery and she was staying with us my mom asked me to cook. I told her I would. I then went outside to check what I was grilling and I knew Dan was out there intoxicated.
Dr. D is a cardiothoracic surgeon. He was my hero. He may well still be, even though he is a throw-back to the days when I was more concerned about science than symbolism.
feelings in the man and the dog, of a constant battle with this world of