Childhood Memories of Time Spent With My Dog Essay

Childhood Memories of Time Spent With My Dog Essay

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It was one life-changing experience, and I would never forget it. Everything fun begun from the first time we met, the year of our friendship building up, until something fairly poignant happened. It was a tragedy, and all I could think of was how much his heart was aching. I wanted him to know that he was a trustworthy, unique, caring, intelligent, and a loyal companion. However, he never got to know in time.
The day we met started from when I got home from school. I decided to go biking in my compound, since it was a peaceful, and breezy day. I hummed my favorite song, and stepped on the pedals to move the bike. Right that moment, I discovered just two houses away from mine, sat a puppy. From my distance, the ginger ale tinted fur was like a coat, gleaming in the warm sunlight, his chest was covered with white fur, on the tiny ends of each were the ginger ale dye. Moving closer, I could see that he was staring right at me, his eyes immense and the color of caramel, it made a great match with his pupils that were chocolate brown. He had white eyebrows, and on the rim of his eyes, it looked as if he was wearing thick eyeliner. His two ears were floppy, shaped like upside down triangles, and his tongue was hanging out from the edge of his mouth, it was rose pink. He was absolutely adorable. I leaned my bike against a tree trunk and walked a little bit closer. It seemed like he was a mixed breed of a golden retriever and some other dog. As I examined him, I realized that he didn’t have a collar. He must be a wild dog that sneaked into the compound. However, I observed that he was spotless, healthy looking, and only a size of a shoe box. I kept a distance, even though I wanted to pet him. Unexpectedly, the puppy scurried over to me...

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... compound, I decided to rest. Therefore, I tied him to a wooden post, and sat on the swing. A few minutes later, Gingerale started to whine in alarm. I didn’t get his message at first, but once he started to bite the leash and growl, like he was saying: “Release me!” I got off the swing and put my hands on the leash. Right that second, Gingerale lifted his leg, and urinated all over the leash, and worse, my hands. I was angry, but soon found myself laughing out of control. Holding a leash that was peed on wasn’t fun, but it was an interesting experience. That was only three things out of a million we did, but they were the most memorable ones. A year and few months of our friendship was stronger that the Great Wall. Sometimes it seemed like Gingerale was a guy stuck in a dog’s body. I told him all my secrets and he understood my feelings. We were practically pals.

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