Personal Narrative: George The Basset Hound

Let me introduce myself, I am George the Basset Hound and I am 44 years old (dog years that is). Today my mom Betty, and my dad Bob, are taking me on a walk to the park down the road. I heard them talking about it from across my house, but it was a little muffled due to my luxurious ears. I hear them walking down the hallway now, and I hear the sound of my leash jingling in my mom’s hand. We are walking down the side of the road now, and I hear all sorts of animals scattering in the leaves and trees. I love listening to these beautiful sounds, I wish my parents could hear as wonderfully as I can. It’s not as great as you would imagine though, you think that all these cars are loud up close and make your ears ring, but they are 2 to 4 times …show more content…
My mom told me to stay out of the tall green grass but I don’t know what “green” is, all I see is yellow, blue, and shades of gray. She hasn’t let go of the leash yet because we are still a reasonable distance away from the park, but my long distance sight is great and I can see everything moving on the playground, from the dog’s tails, to the mom’s fingers on their phones, all I want to do is go play with the frolicking children! My mom just let go of my leash and I have full freedom to do anything I want in this small penned in area! I’m so excited as I chase the other dogs as if they are gazelles and I am the lion quickly gaining speed before I pounce on my …show more content…
It turns out my parents agreed with me and we were going to have a picnic on a hill next to the park. I was too busy with all the other sights, scents, and sounds to even realize that my mom had brought a basket of food with her. When we got to the top of the hill my mom was handing all these types different types of food to my dad so they could have “sandwiches”. I was getting a little too excited and began to drool and my wet nose didn’t help my situation with my mom, she thinks I’m “gross”; unlike my parents when it is hot outside, I don’t have sweat glands all across my body to keep me cool, just on my nose and paws (this explains my wet nose). As I get more anxious to eat and I’m seeing all the different food, my tail begins to wag furiously and I bark loudly; this causes my mom to drop a piece of bread and I got to eat it. I tried to bark again but it didn’t work like the first time. My mom then pulls out a bag of my kibble she must have tried to surprise me with because it worked! She pours it into a bowl for me and I get so excited I eat it all before they finished their sandwiches. Needless to say, I received more bread. The bread wasn’t really that great, but it made me feel special. My ancestors used to eat nothing but raw meat, so I don’t have near as varied tastes as my parents do, but I still love their special